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.”

Untitled Sci-Fi Story (1)

She stared at the man pinning her to the wall. He had been like a father to her. Her parents had died when she was young, and he had taken her in and had given her a home aboard his ship. He and his crew had treated her like family. When she was old enough, he had somehow arranged for her to join the Alliance's top naval academy. Now, this man held a knife- her knife, the one he had given her- to her throat. She desperately wanted to ask him why, but she dared not speak.

Recently, there had been rumors that he had turned terrorist. He and his crew had never been upstanding citizens, but they had never hurt innocent people or caused destruction for the fun of it. Her relation to him and his crew was not in her personnel file, and she had kept silent when her current captain and crew had been assigned the mission of hunting him and his crew down and bringing them in, alive if possible.

She had never believed the rumors. The man she knew would never have done those things, and his crew would not have gone along with him if he had. They were good people. Now, however, as she felt the knife tip, pressed to her throat, doubt tempted her. It had been ten years after all.

Finally, he spoke, "Are you alone?" His voice had an edge of steel to it.

She didn't answer right away, and he pressed the knife closer to her throat and repeated the question, "Are you alone? Did anyone come with you?"

She whispered, "No. I split from the others."

The knife lowered, and he spoke. This time, his voice was filled with relief and apology "Good. I'm sorry, kid. I had to be sure we were alone."

She took a deep breath and asked, "Do know why we're here? Is what they're saying true?"

He nodded his head, "Yes, to the first. As for the second, what do you think? You flew with me for years. If I tell you I was framed, will you believe me, in spite of all the evidence?"

With that last statement, he met and held her gaze. As she stared into his eyes, she realized that she would always believe him over any Alliance officer. He may operate in a grey area, but he had never lied to her or his crew, and he had always stood for what he believed in. She could count on one hand the people she had met in the past ten years who had done the same. Her current captain was a good man on first impression, but she did not know him enough to judge him against the man standing before her. As for their mission intelligence, they were operating on information that others had "gathered" and passed on. There was no way to verify its authenticity.

"I never doubted you." was her reply.

He smiled, although it was only a sad, half smile. "Have you told anyone your relationship to me?"

"No. It was left out of my file and I never found a good reason to bring it up."

"Good, you were always smart." he replied, and was silent for a moment. "We've missed you, you know. The ship's not the same without a little brat running around. Someone in the Alliance higher-ups is out to get us. We've been running secret Alliance support missions for the Three World Rebellion and someone wants us to stop. The reports are right that there's a traitor, but it's not me or my crew. You can't let anyone know you were with us. They'll just brand you a traitor too." He was silent again. After a moment he met her eyes again and spoke. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." she replied, without hesitation.

"Then please forgive me."

Before she could ask "For what?", she felt a sharp pain in her right side. She gasped and tried to move away, but his arm still held her against the wall. She felt her strength leaving with the warm blood now running down her side. She sagged.

He held her as she slid down the wall. When she had reached the floor, he cupped her face and turned it to him. "I'm sorry. It had to be done." Then, he kissed he forehead and left.

The Cursed Chest

 The men stared at the chest. The lid was covered in an archaic script, but every man knew what the script said. They had been taught "The Cursed Chest" poem since childhood. It was meant to deter men such as themselves from opening the chest. It translated:

"Beware, ye fools, who open this chest.
Beware, ye fools, of what happens next.

Open this chest and you invite strife.
Beware, ye fools, you'll forfeit your life.

Open this chest and death you invite.
Beware, ye fools, you won't last the night."

One of them spoke up, "So, Captain, do we open it?"