Dirrect Disobedience

Capt. **** breathed in and out deeply as the lift carried him to the bridge. I’m not nervous. I’m not nervous. He mentally said to himself in a failed attempt to convince himself it was true. What he was about to do could be equated with treason under the right microscope, but he had to do it. He would never be able to live with himself otherwise.

As the doors to the bridge opened he clenched his left fist, a nervous habit he’d never been able to shake. The customary “Captain on the bridge!” sounded and all the crew stood at attention.

“At ease.” He said to them as he moved to his station. “Mr. **** please bring us to a full stop. Mr. ***** please prepare for a ship-wide announcement.”

The helmsman responded with a “Yes, sir.” while several other crew members looked at each other in curiosity. They were nowhere near their assigned destination and bringing the ship to a full stop would put them behind schedule.

It can’t be helped. The captain thought to himself. Once the ship had been brought to a full stop he gave the signal to turn on the ship’s announcement system. He took a deep breath, stood to his full height, and spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. As you should know by now, we have been ordered to ***** to assist The ****** in her mission there. However, in light of recent information, I believe it is in the best moral and ethical interests of this ship and its crew to disobey that order. I cannot disclose more details at this time; all I can ask is that you trust me. The less you know, the safer you will be from any repercussions that may arise. The actions we will take will very likely be considered treason. Therefore if there are any among you who do not wish to risk that outcome please notify your division officer directly and you will be released from duty with no repercussions from me or any crew who remain. You will be dropped off on ***** and notation placed in your file stating your stand. This offer applies to my officers as well. I know I am asking a lot from you at this moment, and I wish I could tell you more. You have one hour to decide and pack your things. It has been an honor serving with you all. If I am needed, I will be in my quarters.”

He had to keep himself from practically running of the bridge and down the halls to his quarters.

>>> 

                About an hour later the bell from his door rang, announcing someone standing outside it.

                “Enter.” Capt. **** said, not rising from the chair he was sitting in or looking away from the nothingness he was staring at. A glass sat, full and untouched, on the small table beside him. His XO entered and stood a few paces away, hands clasped behind his back, waiting until he was addressed.

                Capt. **** looked up at him in silent acknowledgement. His Lt. Co. **** had been at his side since their days in the academy. He was the strange sort of man who was content with following one man rather than leading many.

                “I have fifteen people waiting in the shuttle bay waiting to be dropped off.” **** told him. His face and tone betrayed no contempt or disdain, just a simple statement of facts.

                “Only fifteen?” the captain asked, stunned. He commanded a ship of hundreds. It was sobering to think there might be that many willing to blindly trust him in the upcoming endeavor.

                “Only fifteen, sir.” His XO confirmed, smiling.

                “I’m not sure I understand why you’re smiling, XO.” **** told him, a look of confusion crossing his face.

                The man’s smile broadened. “I’m smiling at your surprise, Sir.”

                **** raised an eyebrow.

                “You were so surprised that only fifteen out of hundreds decided to leave. You’re the greatest captain the fleet has. Not just mentally, but morally as well and the crew knows it. The fifteen who are leaving are the cadets we took on a few months ago, and that’s fifteen of forty. Everyone else trusts your judgment and is willing to face whatever fallout there may be from that decision. If you say we need to disobey orders, then we are willing to do so. I know I speak for the rest of the crew when I say, we would follow you into hell itself if you led us there.” **** stood to his full height, shoulders back as he made the last statement, pride evident in his posture and tone.

                Capt. ***** looked at him in mild shock and incredulity, unable to speak. He had always tried to do what was right, not caring about the consequences. Even still, he would have never imagined that philosophy to inspire the type of loyalty and trust he was being shown. He didn’t deserve it. No one did.

                ***** forced himself to swallow, wetting a dry throat, and spoke. “Are we ready to head for ***?”

                “Already on our way sir.” His XO replied. “I gave the order before I came here. We should reach **** in two hours.”

                “Very well.” The captain said, breathing deeply and regaining his composure. He stood and brought out another glass. Then he addressed his *****, “Take a seat, and I’ll explain what I have in mind.”

They Changed the World

                “Um-excuse me, sir?”

                Sorvar had been staring down at his mug, contemplating drinking from it. The high-pitched voice addressing him broke the liquid’s trance. He looked up through red-rimmed eyes to see a scrawny half-elf looking at him.

                “I got no spare change, kid. Scram.” He mumbled in a gruff voice, glancing back down at his mug.

                “I-don’t need money.” The kid stammered. “I was just wondering if I can sit at your table….all the other seats are taken.”

                Sorvar glanced up at the boy again, studying him for a moment, taking in the worn travel clothes and mussed blonde-brown hair. There was something familiar about this kid. As he studied, he met the boy’s eyes. The slate-grey eyes pierced through him. He had seen those eyes before. They were the reason he was here, drinking himself to unconsciousness…again.

                Even though he knew it was extremely unwise, he still couldn’t stop himself from whispering her name, “Faelynn…..”

                The kid gave him a shocked look, “What did you say?”

                “Nothin’.” Sorvar slurred. “Now go away.” The last thing he needed was Faelynn Stormbringer’s son (Faerin, wasn’t it?) asking questions he didn’t want to remember the answers to.

                The kid ignored his gruff request and sat down anyway. “You said ‘Faelynn.’” He exclaimed in a tone not quite a yell. “Were you referring to Faelynn Stormbringer?”

                The noise in the inn seemed to lessen as people took notice of the kid’s outburst.  People were staring at them. Many of those stares were not friendly.

“That’s not a name you want to be shouting in a place like this, kid.” Sorvar said, an edge of warning in his voice.

                The kid’s face turned a shade of red, and he seemed to shrink in on himself. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “I just….I know so little about her…I thought…..” he broke off as he lowered his gaze and began fiddle with an amulet he had pulled from under his shirt. They sat in silence for several minutes as the other patrons resumed their previous conversations.

                “She was beautiful, smart, and deadly, kid.” Sorvar grumbled finally. “There’s not much more to know. Even her closest friends couldn’t tell you more than that.”

The kid’s head shot up. “Wait. You knew her, didn’t you? Personally?” his eyes were lit up like bonfires.

“I knew all of them,” He murmured over the lip of his mug, pausing before drinking. “At least, I thought I did. Once.  A long time ago.”  Sorvar took a long drink from his mug and practically dropped back onto the table. It made a dull thud as it landed.

“What were they like?” the kid asked, curiosity and awe evident in his voice.

Some crumpled copy of a smile crossed his face. “They were going to change the world.”

Outside the inn, in kingdoms and cities near and far, the world burned.

 

 

Contraband Photos

Elismarc flicked through the photos on her display. They were flat things, two dimensional images from long ago when 3-D photos and Holograms were new or just wild-ideas. Some of the photos had been taken using old digital cameras; others were scans of actual physical photos. Elismarc wondered what it would have been like to use one of the really ancient cameras that had required film. The photos they produced had such a dreamlike quality it was hard to believe they were of real people and places.

                She had stumbled across the cache of photos completely by accident. She had been combing the dark-net for hours researching forbidden knowledge when one of the links had brought her here. There were thousands upon thousands of photos of people and places.

                There were happy people, sad people, and people whose emotions she couldn’t quite describe. There were also pictures of animals. Some of them she knew, but several she had no idea what creatures they were of. The pictures of places were her favorite though. Those pictures showed bright and shiny buildings and exotic cities. They showed a world in the prime of existence. Not the world she faced every day, a world of darkness and ruin.

                No one took pictures anymore, unless you were a government bot. They took pictures of criminals and rebels so they could broadcast them for all to see. Having your picture taken was not a good thing.

                Elismarc input a few commands and downloaded the entire cache of photos. She could be arrested for having them, but she didn’t care. She needed something to get her through the dark times ahead.

Untitled Sci-Fi Story (2)

-zzzt-Suit containment compromised-zzzt-

-zzzt-Suit power at ten percent-zzzt-

**static**

-zzzt-Suit containment compromised-zzzt-

-zzzt-Suit power at ten percent-zzzt-

**static**

 

                Kesoka groaned and coughed. She opened her eyes slowly. Her suit’s view-screen was a mess of cobweb-cracks and the HUD display flickered in and out.  Her suit’s AI kept repeating the same lines over and over, occasionally interrupted by static.

                She could just barely make out the stone floor she was lying on through her cracked view-screen. She tried to get her hands under her to push herself into a sitting position but intense pain lanced up her left arm. Oh, right. That’s the arm you landed on. She thought to herself. It’s probably broken, or at least dislocated.

                She managed to slowly roll herself onto her back. She groaned in pain as she did and another coughing fit shook her. The planet’s atmosphere was deadly to humans. Her suit’s containment had been breached and she was now breathing the acidic atmosphere in.  Hopefully it’s only a small breach.

                -zzzt-“Kesoka,-” -zzzt-“-there?” her suit’s com crackled as a voice sounded around her. -zzzt-“Kesoka, come-” -zzzt-

                “Jet?” she croaked

                -zzzt-“Kesoka, where-” -zzzt-“you?” Jet’s voice sounded worried.

                “”You’re breaking up, Jet.” She coughed as she finished. She needed to get back to the shuttle.

                -zzzt-“What?” -zzzzzt-“-can’t-” -zzzt-

                “Jet?” she coughed again, “Jet, can you hear me?”

                All she heard was static and the suit’s AI.

-zzzt-Suit containment compromised-zzzt-

-zzzt-Suit power at five percent-zzzt-

**static**

     She needed to go. She managed to roll herself onto her knees, and stayed that way for a moment, coughing and cradling her arm. It hung limply across her lap. She glanced around her and saw a tunnel that led away into darkness. Might as well go that way. She mused.

                As she struggled to her feet, she noticed her pistol lying in the dirt. She managed to pick it up without falling over and gripped it tightly in her hand. Who knows what I’ll run into.

 

                A blast sounded and suddenly one of the men in front of them pitched over. Jet and Aleryus used the distraction to take care of the other two. The skirmish was over in seconds they both glanced in the direction of the shot that had saved their lives. They looked in time just to see a suited figure pitch forward into the sand.

                “Kesoka!” Jet yelled and dashed toward her. Aleryus followed close behind. They could see her suit’s damage before they even reached her. Her helmet was dented and its view-screen was shattered. Pieces of the screen lay in the sand. There was a long gash in the suit’s plaiting exposing it to the atmosphere and the left shoulder section was very obviously popped out of place.

                “Roll her onto her back.” Aleryus told Jet. The ridged plate along her spine showed no dents so he felt safe in his request. “We need to get her helmet off.”

                His friend rolled her over and gently removed her helmet. Her eyes were closed and her skin was pale and clammy. Aleryus felt her neck for a pulse and was rewarded with a weak throb.  Next he pushed his hair to the side and put an ear to her face. There was no noise.

                “She’s not breathing.” He said to Jet without looking up. “She’s been breathing the atmosphere for too long.”

                In response, Jet ripped off the breathing mask he had been wearing. This planet’s atmosphere was uncomfortable for his species, but it wasn’t deadly.  He set the mask’s canister to oxygen and placed it over Kesoka’s head.

                A few seconds later they were rewarded with a weak cough, followed by a weaker gasp, and more coughing. They waited as her breathing stabilized to weak, but consistent, gasps. Her eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open.

                “Let’s get her to the shuttle.” Aleryus said and he helped Jet gently pick her up and place her on the floor in the shuttle. Minutes later they docked in the ship’s hanger.

>>>>> 

Captain Dazok stared absentmindedly at the figure floating in a bright green liquid.  A mask covered her face, and tubes and wires were attached to various parts of her body. A readout on the tank’s glass showed a steady heartbeat and brainwaves. He was so engrossed in watching the readouts and his inner thoughts that he didn’t hear Dr. Chidren come to stand beside him. He inhaled sharply and shook his head as the medic addressed him.

“Chidren.” he said, acknowledging the medic’s presence. “How is she?”

The medic’s bluish-purple skin became a greyish blue. “Not very good.” was the raspy response. “Her left shoulder was dislocated and the collarbone was cracked. She also suffered a deep gash to the side which caused her suit’s containment to be compromised.  Because of that, she’s suffered severe damage to her lungs.”

“Can the solution heal her lungs?” the captain asked.

The medic shook her head. “If she was able to breathe it, probably; but as you know the solution only works for humans on what it can touch. We injected some into the muscle around her shoulder, but we do not have a way to make the solution breathable and still effective. Her lungs will have to heal on their own. If they do, it’s highly likely that they will never return to normal parameters.”

Dazok was silent. He and Kesoka were the only two humans in a crew of thirty people. He had been the only human for over a decade and her addition to the crew a few years ago had filled a void he hadn’t known existed. Their age difference meant he saw her as daughter rather than anything else, but he still didn’t relish the thought of her being gone.

 

 

Six Months Later…..

                Kesoka inhaled and immediately knew something was wrong. Her breath hitched and pain flared in her chest. She dropped to her knees, hands pushing into the stone floor. She had been breathing hard the entire match, but this was different. She coughed and tried to inhale again, which only made the pain worse and her to cough more. She felt a presence beside her and a hand on her back. So much for keeping this a secret.

                She coughed again and this time she spat blood onto the stone. Her lungs felt like they were on fire. She barely registered her name being called as she gasped for air and more coughing wracked her body. Dark spots swam before her eyes and she felt her body being lifted as someone carried her away.

>>>>> 

                “What happened?” Captain Dazok asked Aleryus as he walked into the room. Kesoka was curled on her side on a cot, a mask over her face, eyes closed. Her breathing was ragged breaths accompanied by coughs.

                “She’s been lying about her lungs.” Aleryus answered him. “She‘s been insisting her lungs were fine, so we let her be talked into a short sparring match. She was doing rather well when she collapsed and started coughing. Some of those coughs brought up blood.”

                Dazok sighed and mumbled “I never should have let her come.” as he rubbed a hand over his face. “What did Dr. Chidren say?”

                “We can’t reach him.” was the quite reply.

                “Excuse me.” a nervous voice behind them said.

                Dazok and Aleryus turned to see a small figure behind them. It was one of the locals. The people here closely resembled small humans; the tallest among them barely reached five feet. The only visible sign that separated them was their jewel toned hair and skin markings.

                The figure continued, “I was told the young girl was sick. I am a healer. I thought I may be able to help.”

                “Please.” Dazok said and the moved aside to let the healer move closer to Kesoka. As the small figure looked her over, he explained what had happened to Kesoka.

                “These symptoms sound similar to stiotine gas poisoning. It usually happens to miners.”

                “Is there a cure?” Aleryus asked.

                The healer nodded his head. “There is. I can’t say how effective it will be on an outsider, but if you’re willing to let me, I’d like to try it.”

                Dazok and Aleryus looked at each other.

                “We don’t have much of a choice, Captain.” Aleryus said quietly. “She’s dying already.”

                “I know.” Dazok replied. He thought quietly for a moment, listening to Kesoka’s ragged breathing. Finally, he addressed the healer, “We would be grateful for anything you believe would help.”

 “I will do my best.” The local said. “I will return in a moment.” Then he bowed and left the room.

A few minutes later, the healer returned with a stone jar in his hand. “I need her to be lying on her back. This ointment goes on her upper chest. If this works, the vapors should open her lungs as well as begin to heal them.”

Dazok moved to Kesoka’s side and gently rolled her onto her back. She groaned softly as he did, which made her cough more.  He sat on the cot and held her arms to prevent her from rolling back onto her side.

The healer took the breathing mask off of Kesoka and set it on a table beside the cot unzipped the top of her shirt just enough to pull it open, exposing her collarbone. He then opened the stone pot and rubbed a blueish ointment on her chest. When he was done he closed the pot and placed it beside the mask. He rubbed the excess ointment on a cloth looped to his belt.

“How long will until we know if it works?” Aleryus asked from behind Dazok.

“We should know in a few seconds. Her breathing should become less ragged and her coughing should be less severe.” The healer replied.

They listened in silence, waiting for the change. Moments later, Kesoka breathed deeply, but the cough that followed was significantly weaker. The next breath was shallow, but calm. Dazok hung his head in relief, and let out the breath he had subconsciously been holding.

She was going to be alright.

It's Not Coffee

*sips from mug*
      "This coffee tastes weird."
*takes another sip*

 

* casually sips drink*
      "That's probably because it's not coffee."

 

*violently spits out sip*
      "Then what is it?!"
*looks into cup like it holds poison*

 

*waves hand nonchalantly in the air*
      "Oh, a little bit of this and  a little bit of that, and maybe some cinnamon."

 

*narrows eyes*
      "Are you trying to poison me? Again?"
*leans in close*

 

*leans back and adopts a look of hurt shock*
      "Me, poison you? Why in the stars would I do that? I'm offended that you would think that of me! "
*silent pause*
      "What do you mean 'again'?"

 

*stares in silence*
      "You tried to do it last month."

 

      "Oh.”
*looks down at hands, wrapped around cup*
      “ That."

 

      "Yes. That."

 

     "Um……."
*silence*

 

*leans back in chair and crosses arms*
     "Well?"

 

*looks up with sheepish look*
     "I'm sorry?"

 

*deadpan look*
     "You say that like it's a question.

 

      "It was an accident! It was meant for that stupid bard."

 

 *purses lips*
     "Mhmm."
*sits upright again and takes another sip*
     "So what is it, if it's not coffee?"

 

     "Tea, mostly."
*casually sips drink*

 

 *glances down at cup (half raised) and then back up*
     "Mostly?"

 

*glances away*
     "I may or may not have added a dash of nightshade to yours."
*sips from cup*

 

 *chair clatters to the floor*