Crisis Memes - 18 - Sat 09 Aug 2256 07:22

After a sleepless night spent in the main cargo hold, Bruce read out the new weapons inventory to the Major and Will Chiton.

“Three hundred swords; five hundred spears; a hundred cross bows with a thousand bolts; two hundred and fifty longbows and two thousand arrows. We’re removing the safety tips from the bolts and arrows and sharpening them up. Also hundreds of shields, helmets and breastplates – not as good as our standard issue body armour, but we could use it for any volunteers we pick up.”

“Sounds impressive on paper,” Allason said. Two swords lay on her desk, and she pulled one from its leather sheath “And this looks like it could do some damage - it must be 3 feet long.”

“Thirty-eight inches,” Bruce said, “And it’s the real thing: carbon steel, wood and brass handle - really nice. History Planet don’t use cheap plaz-steel.”

“But how many of our troops could use this with any effect?”

“I’ve rounded up a dozen passengers who had also signed up for the King Arthur show on Tintagel. They’ve all had some training in this type of combat – forming shield walls and that sort of thing. They’re working with the assault teams now.”

The major nodded at the sword strapped to Bruce’s back. “You’ve already chosen yours I see. Is that the right way to wear it?”

“Yes, it’s a Claymore – fifty three inches long. It drags on the floor if you hang it from your belt.”

“I see. And these smaller ones are for us?”

“Yes ma’am. I though they might be easier – the claymore’s a bit tricky, but I’ve had the training.”

“Hmm, well, find another big one for me - I’ll figure out what to do with it. Do you want a bigger one too Will?”

“No, not for me, thanks. I’ve done a bit of fencing though. Are there any rapiers? Something with a bit more finesse?”

Bruce shook his head. “Sorry – it’s purely ‘smash and slash’ style on the Tintagel re-enactments. Some of the French Planets do the fancy Three Musketeer stuff – there’s none of that gear on board though.”

“Alright – then this will do.” Will stood up and twirled the blade around.

“Not bad,” Bruce acknowledged. “But sit down before you put someone’s eye out, eh?”

As Will sat down, the Major picked up a printed report in front of her. “The latest on the Taurs is that they’ve moved all the Terrain Harvesters to the back of the ship where we can’t see what they’re doing - and we’ve lost six men trying to infiltrate Deck 21. No confirmation as to whether they are captives or casualties. Any thoughts gentlemen?”

Will looked uncomfortable and repositioned himself in his chair. “Well, as you know, I’m still not convinced that the Taurs are as big a threat as Bruce says. I’ve worked with Terraform squads before. They’re a rough lot for sure, and they don’t hold back when it comes to self defence - but I find it hard to believe that they will start anything of they’re own volition.”

Allason held up her hand, silencing Bruce before he could comment. “I can agree with that to some extent,” she said, “but strategically they’ve got full control of a key position – the outer hull – and I want that under my control, one way or another, and sooner rather than later. As you say, they are a rough bunch, so I want them to be clear about who’s in charge. Now we know they don’t have our weapons, so Bruce can take a few out of them with his swordsmen, and then we’ll see if they are prepared to talk reasonably.”

“Good overall plan,” Will said, “I just wonder if we have those two steps in the right order.”

“We do it my way on this occasion, Will. Once we’ve given the Taurs a good kicking, it’ll also be absolutely clear to everyone on board that the Royal Space Marines are in command here. How long before you can have an assault team ready to go Bruce?”

Before he could answer, there was a loud knock and Allason’s batman, Corporal Leach, popped his head in through the door.

“Trouble on Deck 17, Major. There’s a party of two to three hundred looters moving along on 17-12 Street towards the supermarket in Ring B. They’ve smashed up furniture and shop fittings and armed themselves with plaz-steel bars, clubs and anything they can throw. Our lads down there are badly outnumbered, and are being pushed back.”

“Deck 17?” asked Allason. “The Terraformers are on Deck 17?”

“No reports of Taurs ma’am – they appear to be coming from the History Planet Staff sectors.”

The Major looked bewildered “The sneaky bastard!” she said.

“Who ma’am?” asked Will.

“York. It must be Lord York. He’s realised that we’ve lost our weapons and he’s started a coup.”

“So we put the Taur plans on hold?”

Allason nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. Will, you head down to Deck 17 straight away and take charge. Bruce, here’s a great opportunity for some hands on training – gather up your ‘knights’ and get down there, double time. Not too heavy-handed though – I don’t want a blood bath - but make sure they know we’re not going to stand for this. They should back off once they see the weapons, assuming they’ve any sense left.”

“Straight away ma’am.”