by Mark Tufo
The irony of the question was lost on him.
“I hope for your sake these ‘savages’ take pity on you.” As I spoke the words, the lights flickered and went off, dim red lights came on a few moments later.
“What happened?” The medic asked.
“We beat the Mutes,” I told him, “and now your commander has shut off life support to every part of the ship in Genogerian hands.
“But that includes the holding cells,” the medic said as if he couldn’t believe he was being sacrificed along with the Genogerians.
“How much time do we have?” I asked him.
“Three… four hours at the most,” he said, staring at the red light as if it was the answer to the universe.
Who the hell knew, maybe it was.
“This cannot be,” the medic said, looking around wildly.
“What’s so hard to believe? That your superiors value their existence more than yours? I can assure you that leaders always believe themselves superior to those below them. Just think how you feel about the Genogerians.”
“That’s different,” the medic said angrily.
“Not as much as you would lie to yourself to believe that,” I said. Again I thought that was lost on him. “The question now is what are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it?” he asked.
“You’re as good as dead. They are not going to turn the air or heat back on until we are dead or close to death so they can collect us up and make us pay.”
What I knew for a small sign of approval flitted across the medic’s face.
“Don’t go getting yourself all excited, I will make sure each of you prisoners is dead long before we are.”
“I have a family,” he said.
“So do I—what’s your point? You and the other pilots help or we’re all dead. Simple as that.”
The medic poured another bag of 'sand' on Urlack's wound, when it came back clear he rooted around in his bag and pulled out what I would learn was an electronic needle and thread. He quickly stitched Urlack’s wound, leaving a small inch long opening for the wound to keep seeping out any toxins.
He stuffed the equipment back into his bag and then spoke. “I need to speak to some of the other pilots.”
“He’s alright?” I asked.
“He will be if the life support comes back on.”
“Makes sense. Let’s go.”
I could hear the thunderous cheering of Genogerians who had just defeated their enemy, they cared little for this newest tactic by their former captors, at least not yet. Maybe when the euphoria of the victory wore off but not now.
Tantor came running down the hallway before we had a chance to leave. “We have defeated the Mutes!” he yelled loudly. “I would not have thought such a thing possible, Michael Talbot!”
“It is good to see you, Tantor,” I said, meaning it. The warrior had a half dozen minor bleeding wounds but noticed none of them.
“Urlack has fallen?” he asked with alarm, looking on Urlack’s prone body.
“He should be fine, as long as we can get the lights back on.”
“It is not the lights being off that is of a major concern,” Tantor said, as if he were talking to a child.
“Not sure if I will ever get over the differences of how we look at the world, Tantor. I understand about the life support system. This Progerian is going to talk to his fellow pilots to discuss the matter.”
Tantor finally looked over and recognized the medic. I saw an internal battle waging in him. For his entire life, he had been taught that the Progerians were superior to him in every way and that he was supposed to, without question, defer to everything he was told to do. And now he was celebrating a major victory over the power that had kept him down for so long.
“You are now equals,” I told them both. Neither believed my words.
“I must check on my wounded,” Tantor said, extracting himself from the situation.
I walked quickly with the medic to the holding cells.
“I will need to talk as a group with some of the senior pilots. Will this be possible?” the medic turned to me asking.
“No funny stuff?” I asked.
The medic was staring at me blankly.
“Why do I ask?” I said. I motioned for a few guards to come over. “Allow him to grab five of the senior Progerians to have some time together.
“Five isn’t enough,” The medic said.
“It will have to be,” I told him. I wasn’t expecting any subterfuge, but I felt it safer to err on the side of caution. “I’m going to check on the troops,” I told the Genogerians. “Please send someone to get me when they are done with their meeting.”
With a slight bow, the nearest guard answered. “Yes, sir.”
Weird, how this is turning out, was all I could think as I headed down the long hallway.
Genogerians were all over the place, drunk with celebration. More than one would stop what they were doing to give me a slight bow. At first, I kept thinking they were just bending down to get a better look and see if I was something worth eating. None seemed concerned at all with their lives now hanging precariously to the viciousness of space.
Tantor was now surrounded by at least a couple dozen Genogerians who were talking animatedly. He immediately got up and looked around. Someone must have told him I was approaching.
“Hello, Michael,” he said, rushing to meet me. He clapped my shoulder and almost sent me sprawling. “Come, we have much to discuss,” he said as he issued me to the middle of the circle. “This is the hu-man that has delivered us into freedom!” Shouts, snarls and hisses ensued. It was actually their method of expressing pleasure, but to be surrounded by it you would have thought I was in New York City after the Yankees lost a series to the Red Sox.
“I know your species well enough, Michael, to understand the contortions of muscles on your face do not equate to a smile,” Tantor said.
“I’m afraid, Tantor, that I have not quite given you the freedom you and your soldiers are envisioning.”
Tantor laughed. “You do not understand us, Michael. We are all of us here, happy to die in the next few hours if it means we are no longer harnessed to the whims of the Progerians. Of course, we would rather live out our lives in a more natural way, but I will take four hours of freedom to forty years of slavery. And you have given that to us.” The cheering started up again.
“Tantor, I gave you nothing. You and your men took it. You fought for what you believed in. I just gave you the chance to start over, to have a place you could call your own.”
“For that we will always be in your debt,” Tantor said with an exaggerated bow, which was immediately followed by the rest of his men.
I could see over all the bowed heads, a Genogerian came running into the room looking frantically around. When he caught sight of me he came at a full tilt.
“Commander!” he shouted. I had no idea who he was talking to. All I could think was this wasn’t good.
“Sir, the pilot’s have finished talking,” the guard said and he was still looking at me.
Tantor had turned to look. “He speaks to you, Michael.”
“When the hell did I become the commander?”
“With Urlack down for now, the assignment falls to you,” he said.
“Oh, hell no. Why not you?” I asked Tantor.
“Perhaps in time, Michael, but I do not yet have the experience to lead.”
I wanted to tell him he was wrong. He had already proved he was a leader. But with the whole life and death clock clicking loudly over our heads, I figured maybe today wasn’t the best time to discuss the matter.
“You’re coming with me, then,” I told him.
“I would be honored.”
Within a few minutes, I was at the door of the meeting room with the medic and I supposed five of the most senior pilots.
I had about as much desire to enter that room as I did having my balls crushed under a rubber mallet. They look
ed extremely hostile, but I was to learn they were far angrier their leaders had subjected them to the same fate as the Genogerians than the fact that myself and the Genogerians had put them in that place to begin with. Don’t misunderstand me, they were pissed off that the Genogerians dared to rebel against their rule, but it wasn’t completely without precedent. And being as they considered them inferior beings they would be wrought with inferiority. But their leaders! That was inexcusable.
“We have come to a decision,” The medic told me, stone-faced.
His tone and stance did not leave me with any promise of help from this unlikely alliance. Well, shit, everything that happened today was an unlikely alliance, I thought.
“I’m listening,” I prodded when they weren’t forthcoming with any more information.
It wasn’t the Medic that spoke this time. “My name is Iserwan,” the Progerian said, standing up. It was all I could do to not back up a step or dozen. “We have come to an agreement that the Interim Supreme Commander is not acting in accordance with the laws and regulations that rule the Progerian society and as such he must be removed from power.”
“We’re in agreement there,” I told him. “Does your acknowledgement of your leader’s miscues mean you will do something to actively remove him from power?”
I think Iserwan was sneering down at me or he was just under an extreme amount of stress. Here he was, plotting with slaves and a representative from a near conquered planet to dethrone his leader. I can’t imagine what the sentence on his home planet would be for that high act of treason.
“We can force the commander to yield to our demands,” Iserwan stated.
“And by ‘our’ do you mean everyone in this room?” I asked, pointing to myself and the Genogerian guard next to me.
“I do,” he said with some hesitation. “And after we are successful, what happens to myself and the rest of the officers?”
I knew why he was asking. The conquered from his perspective did not have very good lives to look forward to. There were the feeding troughs, slavery, or the games—none were great choices.
“I’d be lying if I told you I had all the answers and even if I did, I would not unilaterally be able to make those decisions. I would imagine, at least for a while, you would be considered prisoners of war. You would be treated far better than the reception I got. And in time I would think there would be some part of my world that would be carved out for you to start over.”
“We would not be allowed to return to our homes?” he asked.
“No,” I stated flatly.
“That is a death sentence, Michael.”
“It’s better than the one you gave me.”
“I will have to confer with my officers again.”
“You’ve got half an hour.”
“And then?” Iserwan asked.
“I’m going to see how dirty your Supreme Commander wants to get his hands.”
Iserwan looked at me for further explanation.
“At that time I will begin to execute your officers,” I told him as I walked out of the room.
There must have been something in the set of my eyes because it wasn’t five minutes later when I was summoned back to Iserwan’s cell.
“Your terms are acceptable,” he told me.
'Of course they are,’ I wanted to tell him. Nobody wants a bullet in the brain.
Iserwan laid out his plan. “Is it getting hot in here?” I asked.
“It has actually dropped fifteen of your Earth degrees,” my guard told me.
"Fahrenheit or Celsius?" I asked not that it mattered, I just wanted to know which standard they were using.
“We do not have much time, Michael,” Iserwan told me. “If it gets too cold, our internal systems will begin to shut down.”
“Sorry, man I'm burning up and the temperature is falling, it's got to be stress. How can I trust you enough to take five fighters?” I asked. The amount of sweat pouring off my body was in direct proportion to the feelings of dread washing over me.
“Because I have told you so,” Iserwan said as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
“This is hard for me, Iserwan. Words on my planet do not carry as much weight as they do with your kind. People have a habit of saying one thing and doing another.”
“Perhaps that is why we were able to take you over as swiftly as we did.” He was not boasting when he said it.
“Perhaps.”
“Do you agree to our terms?” he asked.
In exchange for his help, he wanted the immediate pardon of all of the officers in the holding cells, the rest of the crew would be on their own for their allegiance to the Interim Supreme Commander.
I didn’t think I had the power to authorize it, but he thought I did and my options were few. “I agree to your terms.”
“Are your words as light in integrity as the rest of your species?” he asked as he extended his huge paw.
“No.” I hoped I spoke the truth as I reached out and shook his hand. Of all the strikes against my soul, what was one more?
Ten minutes later, Tantor and myself were behind the heavy glass partitions that separated us from the launch bay. Iserwan and four pilots were suited up and getting into their fighters. Trepidation was wriggling around in my stomach like a live worm.
“I have dreamed about this, day Michael Talbot,” Tantor said as we watched the large doors open up to the vast emptiness of space.
“At any point did it turn into a nightmare?” I asked him in all seriousness.
“The nightmare has been while I was awake,” he said as the fighters jetted out into the inky blackness.
I had made sure Iserwan’s communications would be patched through to the entire ship. I could not afford for him to contact the commander directly and somehow undo what we had come to terms on. I was feeling like the idiot that had opened Pandora’s box.
Within a minute, the speakers crackled to life. “Interim Supreme Commander, this is Flight Wing Omega leader Iserwan Durenge. I have conferred with my officers and we feel you are in violation of executive order 227.4, willingly placing your troops into harm’s way. If you do not immediately restore life support systems to the ship, we will be forced to fire upon the bridge.”
It was a full minute without any response from the ISC. A heavy vibration passed under my feet as a blast rocked into the ship.
A startled angry voice screamed through the speakers, I had to cover my ears. “Omega leader Iserwan, your acts of cowardice and treason will bring shame to your family for generations!”
Two more vibrations rippled through the ship. I could hear whatever material this thing was made of popping and groaning as it tried to accommodate for the stresses.
“We can argue all you want, Commander,” Iserwan said coolly. “Yet it is you that had initially threatened the lives of your officer core. Turn the life support back on and we will discuss terms accordingly, like the civilized beings we are.”
“Civilized, my ass,” I said. Tantor looked at me sidelong.
“Never!” the ISC screamed.
I gripped the railing next to me as the ship rocked back and forth from the barrage, I wasn’t sure it would be able to withstand the onslaught it was under. Tantor began to chant a prayer that was far from comforting. And then as quickly as it started, it stopped.
“Sir, we have a breach on deck 17,” an alarmed Progerian said from the bridge.
“We will never yield!” the ISC shouted.
And then there were sounds of a struggle; some grunts, groans, possibly a punch or two and then another voice came over the speaker. “This is Sub-Commander Tuvok, under article 13.8, I have assumed command of this ship.”
I had to shield my eyes as the lights blazed on.
“I have restored life support to the rest of the ship. What are your demands, Omega Leader Iserwan?”
Again the ripples erupted under my feet. I thought Iserwan had either not heard the last communiqué or he had rethoug
ht his strategy and decided the ship should not fall into enemy hands. And then I realized it was the Genogerians stomping their feet and shouting for victory. I think I would rather take the fighters firing. It was less disruptive.
“Michael Talbot, he is speaking to you,” Iserwan said over the speakers.
Tantor handed me a giant walkie-talkie—giant in my hand at least.
“Michael Talbot is still alive?” the sub-commander asked.
“Yes,” I told him. I could hear his sharp intake of air.
“You have turned Genogerians against their Progerian masters and somehow even managed to fracture Progerians,” he said heatedly.
“You have sowed the seeds of discord among the Genogerians for millennia. I merely watered what you had planted.” I hoped I hadn’t added a layer of fertilizer too. I wanted to think that everything I had promised Tantor and the others would come to fruition. "As for your officers wanting to help us—what choice did they have when all you offered them was death?”
“And what do you offer?” he asked.
“A chance.”
“And what of us? That you now ask to forfeit our positions?”
“I can offer nothing more than you will be treated much better than my kind were.”
“No games?”
“No games,” I answered truthfully.
It was two hours and five or six minor scuffles later that all of the Royal Guard and all the personnel on the other end of the lifeline, so to speak, were in captivity. True to my word, I let the Progerian pilots free.
“What now, Urlack?” I asked, sitting at the helm.
Urlack snorted. I think it was his attempt at a laugh, but he was much more out of practice than Dee.
“I have never seen anyone but a supreme commander sit in that chair. It is funny to see one as small as yourself with your legs dangling like a child sitting there.”
“Don’t make me have you beamed off the deck,” I told him.
“Beamed off?” he asked.
“Old show, don’t worry about. Do we land this thing now?” I asked.
“We cannot. This ship is not designed for atmospheric travel, it will crush under the stresses. It was built in space and is meant to always reside there.”