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.”

To Save a Town 2

Soroya flew the short distance to the town square where the town's people, old and young, were being loaded into trucks. Those who were old and strong enough to offer resistance had been handcuffed or tied. Many of the children were crying. There as a news crew and its vans interspersed with the military vehicles. They were recording the scene and broadcasting it live. It was how she and her brother had become aware of the situation.

She came to a stop, floating in place just south of the square. Using some of her power, she projected her voice and spoke. "General Thrisen! Let these people go!"

All heads, cameras, and guns turned to face her. A collective gasp went through the crowd as they noticed her, floating above the streets. Very few of her people used their power for flight, it took too much power, and even fewer had used it where it could be seen. None had ever been captured on camera.

A man, tall and muscular, pushed his way through the soldiers and civilians to stand in the center of the square. He had a megaphone in his hand. "Ah, Soroya Kingschild. We meet at last." he spoke into the megaphone. "Where-"

"I'm here to trade myself for the town." She cut him of before he could ask where her brother was. "They've done nothing." As she spoke, she noticed soldiers moving through the news crews, making them lower their cameras and voice recorders.

"They gave shelter to enemies of the United States." was the general's reply.

"They had no idea I was here. I rarely came to town, and when I did, I made sure I could not be recognized. They did not know they were helping me. Let them go and I'll come peacefully."

The general thought about her words for a moment. "You'll come willingly? No fighting or resistance?"

"Yes. Provided you release them now. I won't come down until then." she replied.

The general spoke into his sleeve. "How about this, in addition to you surrendering peacefully, you also prove that there are no others like you among this crowd and I'll let the town go. No charges will be filed, no one arrested. If there are others like you, they will be taken and placed in the nearest camp, instead of being taken as a terrorist. Sound like a deal? As you think on this, you should know that I have men in place to shoot you out of the sky if you refuse this offer. "

She didn't immediately respond. He was asking her to betray her own people. It would have been one thing if no others had been here; but there was one man. He was a few years older than she and Corin, and taller. He stood with defiant posture among other young men who were waiting to be loaded onto a truck. Even from her height, she could see the markings that marked him as one of her people. The markings of her people were only visible on a certain wavelength of light. A wavelength that humans could not see or produce. Not with out help. What would be the most significant about this betrayal, even of one man, was the fact that she was supposed to be a leader of her people, a queen of sorts to her brother's role as a king. Even still, she knew what she was going to do.

"I'm sorry."she mentally said as she sent a telepathic burst of apology and deep regret. While her people could not exchange words telepathically, but they could send "bursts" of emotion with such precision that they might as well have. Her burst was returned with one understanding and acceptance. From the way he expressed it, she got the impression that he had known what she would do even before she had and that he was perfectly okay with it, possibly even proud. "Strange." she thought.

She closed her eyes concentrated. She felt the power flowing through her and molded it to her will. A moment later, she was filled with warmth. She opened her eyes and raised her right hand. A yellowish light emanated from it. She shone it over the crowd. She lit the rest of crowd, moving slowly so that the general and his soldiers could clearly see that there were none of her people among them, before coming to stop on the man she had noticed.

"Bring that man here." the general said through his megaphone. Soldiers moved to obey. They grasped the man by the arms and brought him to stand by the general. Once he was standing beside the general, arms still held by the soldiers, the general addressed her again. "Alright, Ms. Kingschild, it's time for you to hold up your end of the deal."

"What about the townspeople? They are free to go?" she asked.

"Yes. The town is free to go." the general responded. He spoke into his sleeve again and solders began to move through the crowd, releasing those who had been restrained.

She watched for a moment and then slowly began to descend, releasing the power that held her in the air . She did it slowly so that no one would assume she was flying off or attacking.

She had only descended a couple feet when she heard a muffled thwump and whooshing sound behind and above her. She whirled in the direction of the sound. She tried to dodge, but was not fast enough, so a second later, her chest and left arm exploded in pain and she lost all control of her power and descent.

She was vaguely aware that she was headed in the direction of where General Thrisen was standing. She hit the ground with a thud, cracking the asphalt.Her unconscious body rolled a few times and stopped. There was blood coming from a gash on her head and from her nose.

"Restrain her." the general said, and his men obeyed. They roughly rolled her over and cuffed her hands behind her back with cuffs made special for restraining her kind. Two of them lifted her by her arms and dragged her to a truck.

"Lieutenant," he said, addressing a man beside him who saluted, "make sure she stays unconscious until I say so. Also, take that man she identified with you. If he give you any trouble, shoot him." The lieutenant gave him a "yes, sir!" and scurried off to follow his orders. Then, the general turned to address the rest of his men and yelled, "Somebody confiscate those cameras!"

An Enemy's Last Request

He shuffled nervously before the door, contemplating knocking or just leaving the package on the doorstep. He had seen war and destruction. He was a soldier. But standing here, about to apologize for a man's death had him more jittery than his first day in battle.

Finally, he knocked. After a few tense moments, he heard a shuffling behind the door. It opened only a crack.

"Can I help you, sir?" a quiet voice asked.

"I believe so, yes mam... are you Mrs. Chyng?" he asked.

"Yes." she replied hesitantly, "I don't want any trouble."

"It's no trouble. I knew your husband."

She stared at him in shock. "My husband? But you're...."

"I know. I'm the enemy. That doesn't matter. Your husband saved my life. As he was dying he asked me to bring you this package; and I said I would."

An "Oh."escaped her lips in a quiet gasp. A moment later she asked, "Would you like to come in for some tea?"

He smiled. "Thank you. I would like that."

The Orphans

Mikhal shushed the children behind him. Then, he cautiously peeked around the corner. They were still there. They had been chasing them for three blocks. All because Jered had punched that rich kid a few days ago. Now, by order of the mayor, all the homeless kids in this area were being rounded up and placed in orphanages or workhouses.  They wouldn't last long there. Ari would be sent back to her abusive father, once they figured out that he was a nobleman. Tym, who was sickly, would probably be worked to death. Jered would last the longest. He was a fighter. He would probably manage to run away again. Mikhal would never make it to an orphanage or workhouse. He was too old, he'd be conscripted into the army. The only reason he hadn't left after the order was passed was Jered. His little brother was such a hothead. He didn't blame Jered for punching the mayor's son, the brat had deserved it. He just wished Jered would show restraint once in awhile. Tym and Ari needed him too. They didn't have older siblings, and other groups didn't want the burden of a sick kid and a girl. He couldn't leave. He had hoped to hoard enough supplies to move them to another city, but now they would have to start over.



Art by: John Foster