StarShip Down

by Darrell Bain

  “I certainly will!”

  * * * *

  The rest of the day was spent reporting back to Brandon, arranging for more supplies for an extended stay, and talking with Terrell on the com about the wounded tender. He had to call on one of the former captives, Sergeant Wong, as the closest person on hand to a tender mechanic since the one they'd brought had died in the fighting. She and Terrell spoke back and forth for an hour, until she finally gave up.

  “I'm sorry, Captain. I was a relief pilot a few years ago for the military equivalent of the tenders but I'm not a mechanic and neither is Jimmy.”

  “She helped,” Terrell's voice came over the com. “At least she convinced me that I need to bring Effers and a few techs out and let us see what we have to work with. Maybe we can fix it, maybe not.”

  “Thanks, Terrell. We'll be sending the tender back this evening and you can return with it tomorrow and bring whatever parts and supplies you need.”

  “That's will put you out of contact, won't it?”

  “The damaged tender's com is down but Lieutenant Freeman can relay through the satellite when it's in range.”

  “The aliens don't bother you?”

  “We haven't found their weapons, if they even have any.”

  “You will,” the engineer said confidently.

  * * * *

  Samuel Gordon still thought of himself as captain. He also believed he was being held prisoner by mutineers. For weeks or possibly months—he wasn't sure which—he had seethed under the restraints. Sometimes he remembered shouting and screaming at his guards but that hadn't worked so he'd changed tactics. For an interminable period of time now, he had acted as if he accepted the situation and no longer intended to contest the usurpation of his captaincy, and of mutineers controlling his ship. It was only an act of course and finally it had paid off.

  The surgeon and most of his medical technicians had gone somewhere, no doubt to help suppress legitimate contenders for control of the ship. That provided his chance, finally. The young steward who brought his meals was wearing a sidearm. He had been acting subservient for so long that she got careless and that was all it took. A moment later she was his captive.

  He stalked toward the control room with her in front of him and his gun poking her in the back. It was quite some time since he had set astrogation parameters but he still remembered how. Or better still, just order an officer to set the ones he told him to. Couldn't find earth, could they? He'd show them how! Even if taking off from a planet had never been attempted, he was certain he could convince the astrogator to do it. He chuckled, causing his prisoner to slow her steps.

  “Go!” he ordered. “The control room. Hurry now, or I'll have you hung when I'm back in control.”

  “Captain Gordon, please. You're not well. You need to—”

  “Shut up, missy! By God I'll show you mutineers how a ship should be run! Hurry, now, hurry!” He prodded her with the gun hard enough to bring a cry of pain from her and she stepped up her speed.

  By the time he got to the control room, he was seething. All along the corridors he had seen startled glances and heard imprecations and hypocritical pleading for him to let his captive go. Each time he heard their lies he snarled at the miscreants and warned them to stay away from him or see the steward killed. He had no desire to shoot her but he was determined to do so if it came to such a pass. He hadn't thought it would and it hadn't. Now all he had to do was set the astrogational coordinates and get the ship moving. After that he was certain the rest of the crew would disperse the mutineers and restore him to his rightful place.

  He shoved the steward through the control room hatch and waved his gun at the only officer there, the cowardly Brandon Masters.

  “You!” he commanded. “Set the coordinates for earth and get the power source and main engines up and running.”

  “Sir ... Captain Gordon ... you can't—” Brandon began pleading but Gordon shut him up.

  “Do as I say or I shall begin killing these technicians. They are obviously mutineers, just as you are. Believe me, I hold your lives in very low esteem.”

  He found it hard to believe no one moved other than to shrink away from him. It made him angry. A red rage came over him at such a blatant display of disloyalty by the crew members, mutineers or not. Couldn't they see he was back in command?

  “Captain, the ship can't take off,” Brandon said quietly.

  Gordon had noticed Masters was the only one who hadn't shrunk away from him. Gordon wanted to shoot him on the spot but he knew that wasn't possible. He needed Masters’ knowledge. However, he did know how to get the man moving.

  “You!” He pointed a finger at the technicians running the com station. “Stand up!”

  The woman slowly got out of her chair and faced him.

  Gordon fired a single shot. It hit her squarely in the belly and she collapsed with a moan. There! That would show them how serious he was and how he would treat mutineers if they didn't toe the line. The captain was the ultimate authority on a COESS ship. Everyone knew that.

  “Disarm him,” Brandon said and threw himself at Gordon. He crashed into the former captain as the gun went off but his momentum took both of them to the deck. The two other techs swarmed over them and grabbed Gordon's gun hand. Someone tried to rip it away from him, ignoring his screams to cease and desist. The gun went off and blood, bones and brains sprayed across the deck. Gordon went still. He had a small hole under his chin and a more massive one in the top of his head.

  “Get a medic! Quick! Mister Masters is hurt bad!”

  “So is Mary. God damn him!”

  One of them scrambled away to look for a medic who hadn't departed with the assault team. The other tech began giving what first aid he could. Gordon's body was ignored other than to push it aside to better help the wounded.

  * * * *

  “We need to call Captain Callahan, right now,” Addie murmured quietly a while later. A tear leaked and rolled down her face as she spoke.

  “We're trying,” Grindstaff told her. He had come to the bedside where Brandon lay dying.

  Very shortly it became evident he couldn't be contacted. The tender was in route back and its com wouldn't work for some reason despite repeated tries.

  “Most likely they're in the middle of a big thunderstorm,” the tech said. “And the satellite isn't in a good location either.”

  “How long until you can relay through it?” Grindstaff asked. He had been with Addie and Brandon almost constantly since the shooting and lending assistance elsewhere when he could, mostly by com. He and Terrell, the next senior officer had conferred and Grindstaff had assumed command since Terrell was to go back with the tender to see about repairs on the other one and the major was next in line under the Callahan reorganization.

  “About midnight, I'd think. The tender will probably get here about the same time we can contact it.”

  “What else can we do, Bill?” Addie asked.

  He could see she was about at the end of her rope. “I'll stay here until the captain is contacted. You rest, Addie, and don't worry about the ship. Everything is under control.”

  * * * *

  Travis broke into a broad grin the next morning as he was preparing to try the prisoners. He saw Jimmy approaching him with his arm around Sergeant Mirando. Travis had already been told he was alive. The grin faded somewhat when he saw the bandage on the junior officer's upper arm but then it started up again as the young man was return it. He stood up and held out his hand.

  “Jimmy, I'm glad to see you came through all right. Or mostly. And Sergeant, I'm happy to see you weren't injured in the fighting. I know you had one of the lead elements.”

  “I sort of caught the edge of a laser beam when I was trying to subdue one of the convicts who surrendered then changed his mind,” Jimmy said.

  “He saved two of our men doing it, Captain,” Maria told him. “And please call me Maria. Just as soon as Major Grindstaff will allow it, I'm resigning
from the army and getting married.”

  “Who's the lucky guy?” Travis asked with a straight face.

  She showed the tip of her tongue and leaned into Jimmy's embrace.

  “How are you feeling, Jimmy? Have you taken any pain medicine?”

  “Yes, sir, but only a pill. I told the medic to save the heavy stuff for the ones who really need it.”

  “Do you think it will have affected your judgment?”

  “No, sir. At least I don't think so.”

  “Good. I want you to serve on the jury. We're going to try the convicts within a very short time.”

  “We are? I mean, yes, sir. I'll be glad to serve. I'm not sure I can be open-minded, though.”

  “I doubt anyone can be completely impartial in these cases, Jimmy, just from what I've heard so far. Nevertheless, it's something we need to get out of the way and I do mean now.”

  “Yes, sir.” He leaned down to kiss Maria. “I'll see you in a while, sweetheart.”

  “Don't go anywhere, Sergeant Mirando. I want you to serve on the jury, too.”

  Maria opened her mouth in surprise. For a second she thought of trying evade the duty but only for that long. Her innate sense of responsibility came to the fore. She simply nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Have a seat, you two. The others will be along in a moment.”

  He had ordered the trials to be held outside and had some seats unbolted from the tender and brought to the area. He decided the accused could stand. He had also ordered them to have their hands tied behind their backs and their legs hobbled. He didn't intend for any of them to take off running when the sentences were pronounced.

  He sat quietly while the other members of the jury he had asked to serve arrived. Lieutenant Freeman and First Sergeant Gomez came to the site together while talking to a buck sergeant and two corporals.

  “We may be interrupted a couple of times, Captain,” Freeman said as he and Gomez took their seats, “but I've told the people in charge not to bother us unless absolutely necessary.”

  “That's quite all right. We'll manage. Over here, you men.” He motioned to two others he had standing by. “Take your seats here.”

  The private and a PFC sat down beside their superiors. They both tried desperately not to show how nervous they were but Travis caught it anyway.

  “Relax,” he said. “This is a simple exercise. All you have to do is use your minds and rule on the evidence.”

  “Yes, sir,” they chorused.

  “And since everyone on the jury is now present, we can get started if the witnesses are ready.”

  “Corporal Bradshaw has them standing by over there, Captain.” Freeman pointed toward a group made up almost exclusively of women.

  “Fine. Let's get started then. First—”

  “Captain!”

  He looked around.

  An army com tech came running up. He handed Travis the mouthpiece for the com unit he wore on his vest.

  “Sir, it's the ship. The relay has some static in it but they say it's an emergency.”

  He took the instrument. “Captain Callahan.”

  “Grindstaff here. Sir, I regret to inform you that former Captain Gordon somehow obtained a weapon and attempted to take over the control room. He failed and was killed. I also regret to inform you that Mister Masters was wounded during the fight and expired an hour ago. You may be very proud of him, sir. He attacked an armed man, former Captain Gordon, while knowing almost certainly he would die in the attempt, yet hoping the others would follow and subdue him. That is exactly what happened. Since Mister Terrell is due to return with the shuttle, I have assumed command.” Travis felt his heart jerk in his chest. For a long moment he couldn't speak for the knot in his throat. Damn, damn, damn, he thought through the sickness in his heart. I should have been there, not here. Can't I do any goddamn thing right? Finally he managed to get out a croaked response, knowing he had to respond and that he couldn't let his self-accusation keep him from duty, not now.

  “Thank you, Major.”

  “I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news, sir.”

  “It wasn't your fault.” He knew whose fault it was. “Very well. Continue in command there, Major Grindstaff, and please give my condolences to Addie. I will return on the next tender flight if possible. Please do your best to communicate with me if ... if emergencies come up, but if that proves impossible, use your own best judgment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “Yes, sir. Gordon shot Com Tech Abraham in the belly. She is very badly wounded. Is the surgeon on the next tender run?”

  “I'm not sure, but probably. It's possible he won't be back until the one after that. Many of the ferrets, the aliens, are very badly hurt here and we're doing our best to help save them. We also have some wounded. I hope Ms. Abraham can appreciate the priority. It was humans who killed and wounded so many of the ferrets, the aliens. I feel we are obligated to try our best to repair what damage we can.”

  “I understand. Is that all, sir?”

  “Yes. Thank you. Carry on.”

  “Thank you, sir. Godspeed.”

  * * * *

  Travis thanked the communications specialist as he handed back the hand piece. He saluted and hurried away at a fast trot, leaving Travis thinking no one had told him that he shouldn't salute civilian starship captains.

  To the others, he said, “Sorry for the interruption. Here's what it was about.” He went on to tell them what he had heard in a slow voice, giving them time to assimilate it and himself time to put his sorrow in a compartment for the time being. He would mourn later in private. Brandon had not only been an extremely competent subordinate, he had been a friend as well. He was going to miss him and he was sure Addie was heartbroken. Their budding romance had flowered into full bloom just before this crisis.

  “We'll have more answers later,” he finally said. “Suppose we carry on with this duty right now and we can talk about it later?”

  Nods of heads and voiced affirmations answered him. “Corporal Matthews, would you be so kind as to bring the prisoners forward, please? And, Sergeant Trinelli, would you please go to the ferret ship and find Ms. Wu? See if she can get over to them that we are holding a trial for the men who killed and wounded so many of them as well as our own people.”

  “Yes, sir,” they each answered and hurried away.

  * * * *

  “A trial,” Geraldine Wu said. “Punishment. No, I shouldn't say that until the trial is over but...” She threw up her hands and began to pantomime while using her limited ferret vocabulary.

  “I believe I understand,” Siessina said after the fourth different rendition of acting out Geraldine had been through. “Accountability?”

  “Yes!” Geraldine practically shouted in English. Then in a more normal tone, she mouthed, in their language, “Come, please.”

  * * * *

  Travis waited impatiently while the prisoners were brought forward. It took longer but eventually a half dozen of the ferretlike aliens were standing by the jury, three on one side, two on the other. They declined seats.

  Once they were all gathered, he stood up and faced the prisoners.

  “You men and women have all been charged with piracy, murder, rape, attempted genocide and kidnapping. Being found guilty of any of those charges carries a sentence of death. Do you all understand?”

  A few shouted imprecations. Most stood mute. A few appeared startled at the severity of the charges. One spoke out.

  “We didn't have any choice but to go along.”

  “We'll see.”

  He spoke to the members of the jury. “The prisoners have been told of the charges against them. Witnesses will now come forward.”

  One by one the former captives of the convicts were brought to the small jury he had formed and told what had happened during their captivity. After each had spoken, he or she stood to the side of the grouped ferrets, some on one side, a number on t
he other.

  Travis listened stoically as they told their stories, including the women who had just been kidnapped. He felt his anger growing and tried to stifle it. He knew he should keep a judicial attitude but the stories of rape and killings caused him to want to personally throttle the ones most guilty.

  When that part of the trial was over he waited until he could speak calmly before proceeding to the next, listening to the prisoners.

  “Do any of you have anything to say for yourselves?”

  A babble of voices ensued and he held up both hands.

  “Hold it! Hold it. One at a time. We'll listen to anyone who wants to speak, starting on the left.” He pointed to that man. “Go ahead.”

  “I already said we didn't have no choice. Morehill and Fondez done all the organizing. If we'd complained, they would've shot us down like dogs. I never raped no women. They went along with it.”

  “I have a question,” Gomez said.

  “Go ahead,” Travis gestured to him to speak.

  “Were you present when Morehill threatened to kill one of the male prisoners if they didn't agree to be raped peacefully?”

  The prisoner stood mute.

  “Next man,” Travis said.

  Their denials and excuses ran the gamut but they were all the same, just put in different words. The exception was one of the female prisoners.

  “You're next,” Travis pointed to her.

  Bukha Sunwha took a small step forward with her hobbled feet.

  “I shouldn't've been here to begin with. I would have been okay with you in the ship despite my record. And I sure as hell didn't rape or kidnap anyone and had no chance to prevent it if I tried. All I did was try to keep my head down. I didn't kill any ferrets, either.” She paused for a moment to think something through then spoke again. “I admit to having intercourse with one of those cute twins but stop and think a minute, will you? A man can't be raped against his will, not without drugs and I'll guarantee you we didn't have any here.”

  Travis thought for a moment, remembering the witnesses. The one twin well enough to testify hadn't said anything against her. Well, if he wanted to speak for her he'd get a chance if the other members of the jury went along.