| |
WATCHING THE CAPTAIN stomp down the passage to the cargo bay was a huge relief, even though her plan seemed to have brought more arms into the equation. Captain Varma was flanked by the two midshipmen, the bosun and one of the engineers, all in white uniforms and caps, and all carrying side arms. She didn’t even know that the sailors on the boat had guns, or where they even kept them. What it had taken for the captain to be cross enough to get everyone to get them all out, she didn’t dare imagine.
They reached the cargo bay. From the door all that could be seen where the two shuttle craft, the larger longboat, and the shorter jollyboat, and the huge head-height wall of boxes marking the edge of the maze the marines had created under the lieutenant’s instruction. From the interior came the sound of weapons fire. That didn’t seem to deter the captain who marched straight up to the entrance of the maze and nodded to the bosun. He stretched his arm out as if to salute, but he was pinching his fingers in an odd fashion, holding something. He brought the thing to his lips. Lena saw a flash of shiny metal and a flash of blue light. Then the most piercing noise she had ever heard screeched out of it, like a whistle, but much higher-pitched and much, much louder. One long, high note rang around the walls of the cargo bay like a gunshot.
The firing stopped from within the maze. The bosun watched the captain. She waited, head cocked, for a moment, then nodded to the bosun. Back to his lips went the pipe and four sharp pips followed. There was muttering and scuffling, then from the maze came a clearly unsettled first officer. He sized up his welcoming committee and paused before speaking. The sailors all had their hands on their side arms.
“Can I help you, Captain” Fazar was quick to regain his composure.
“Stand down the marines,” Varma said quietly.
“Is there a problem with them?”
“It. Was. Not. A. Request.”
“I’m sorry I don’t understand,” Fazar said.
“Let me make this crystal-clear, lieutenant. Get the sergeant to stand the marines down. Have their weapons stowed. No more live fire on my ship. Be in my ready room, in three minutes. If you take five, the bosun here is under orders to drag you there in shackles.”
“But—"
“AM I CLEAR, lieutenant?”
She glared at him. He held her gaze but said nothing.
“Am I clear?” She was close enough now to blow up his nose. She still hadn’t blinked.
“Aye, aye, commander,” he said finally.
“Try again,” she said, her eyes lasering through the back of his head.
“Aye, captain.”
She turned on her heel and said, “Bosun,” on the way past him to the doorway. The bosun nodded and had the contingent of sailors stand to attention. “Two minutes.”
ARohirohi’s attention and therefore Lena’s was focused on the captain. Perhaps she could tell a fight that was won when she saw it. She collared another passing sailor and had them follow her to the bridge, where the officer of the watch stood to attention the moment she entered.
“Stand down, Lin,” the captain turned to address the sailor who’d been following her. “P.O Johnson, guard my door. We’re expecting the first officer. Don’t let him in without knocking first. There’s a carbine in the locker there. Please make sure it’s loaded.”
By the time Fazar arrived, still flanked by two hurrying guards, the captain was installed in her room and the petty officer standing outside her ready room looked as though he’d been carved there.
Lena was finding the whole virtual tour of the ship a little sick making, but she knew it must be important if Rowie was showing her.
Fazar tried to make a smooth movement from the bridge to the ready room, but a move of an arm from the P.O and a rifle blocked his way. When Fazar took a step back, affronted, the sentry knocked on the door, not taking his eyes off him. He waited.
“Enter.” The sentry stood to the side to let Fazar in, then stood in the doorway once he’d passed.
“What is the meaning of this?” hissed Fazar.
The captain addressed the guard instead, who withdrew and re-assumed his position outside the office.
“Explain to me why you’re not already in the brig, Fazar.”
“Well, firstly, we don’t have one...”
“I’m sure I can find a locker.”
“...and secondly there’s this.” He presented his arm with a flourish, arm-pad upwards. There was message on it with admiralty headers and security codes. Captain Varma stood and walked across to see. Taking in the first few lines, her eyes widened. She looked up at Fazar, who said, “Please,” and made a vague wafting motion to imply it was okay for her to scroll on his arm-pad. She reached the signature and the code on the end of the message and double checked it against the codes in her own arm pad. Silently, she turned, retreated behind her desk, and sat. She left Fazar standing. Fazar spoke first, “So, you see, what the admiral wants—"
She raised her hand for silence. Then when he’d breathed out, said, “When we get to the planet, you clearly have orders to follow. Until then, this ship is under my command. Do you know quite how dangerous live fire drills could be on board this ship? This particular ship?” He looked as if he was going to speak. She didn’t let him begin, “This particular ship, will have no live fire drills aboard, at any point. The next time a carbine is fired on this ship, it goes out the airlock. And if you undermine my command of this ship again, in any way, you will be under arrest until we make orbit. Are. We. Clear?” She glared at him again, her eyes like the void itself.
A muscle in his cheek twitched, “Aye. captain.”
She reached down to push an intercom button on her desk and barked an order to the guard outside.
“Dismissed.”
