Crisis Memes - 23 - Tue 12 Aug 2256 09:00

The death toll from Saturday’s riot had risen to eighty-seven. Fifty-nine civilians were dead, including Vikings, looters, and others simply caught up in the melee. Twenty-eight marines had also died, mostly among the lightly armed defenders under the command of Sergeant Youkana. Many more were in the ships hospital on Deck Four with slash wounds and missing limbs – injuries that would take some time to heal even with the assistance of a dozen re-energised medi-droids. Among the wounded was Bruce McLaren who was making a steady recovery, despite the failure of the droids to re-attach his severed arm.

Ben sat by his brother’s bed filling him in on recent developments. His news was first hand – over the last few days Ben had quietly and efficiently assumed more and more control over the distribution of food and rations throughout the parts of the ship controlled by the Marines. Tacit recognition of this by Captain McGilligan had gained him attendance at several discussions held between the Captain and Major Allason, and yesterday he’d been present at a meeting with Lord York.

“Allason is still agitated about the riot,” Ben said. “It’s like she hadn’t even considered that something like that could happen.”

“She’s more of a bureaucrat than a military person,” Bruce replied.

“Well she wasn’t even that, at the meeting yesterday. York ran rings around her. He said that he couldn’t be held responsible for the actions of the looters on Saturday. According to him they were a rabble of half-starved passengers and drunken Scandinavians who have been squatting in no-mans land between his own security personnel and the Marines. Then he said that the fighting had left his people even more fearful of the Marines, and asked if they could be confined to the areas they currently controlled for the present. He’s guaranteed to keep order in the rear sectors himself.”

“Well, that’s good for us. We’re stretched pretty thin over the rest of the ship.”

“I might agree, except that after about five minutes I realised where I’d heard his voice before. I’m pretty sure he was the one in charge of the mob that knocked our door down last week.”

“York? Lord York? Why would he bother himself? He might send his lackeys to do it - I could maybe believe that.”

“No, it was the man himself I think. I’d say he’s a nasty piece of work under a very thin layer of civilisation. Well, anyway, Allason let him have his way. She said afterwards that with you and Will both hospitalised, she had no choice. The Captain wasn’t too happy, but York agreed that the Destiny’s maintenance staff would have full access, provided they were unarmed. ”

“So York wants his own bit of power? Well, let him have it I say, as long as he behaves himself. Whatever his involvement on Saturday we came out on top. There won’t be any more trouble like that, which will give us a chance to knock the Terraformers into line before they do something really stupid.”

“That’s exactly what Allason said - ‘the real threat from below’ – she called it.”

“She’s right. Tell her not to start without me. I’ll be back in a day or two.”

“No you won’t Bruce. You’d just be a liability at the moment. Will is almost fit again. He got nothing more than a concussion and a couple of black eyes. Leave it to him – and me.” Ben touched the sheathed sword on his belt.

“You? What are you going to do? Nothing stupid I hope. Notching up one hairy Viking scalp doesn’t make you a proper fighter.”

“I agree, and the guy isn’t actually dead, thank the Galaxy. But I did discover something new about myself. Harry is talking about everyone shedding their layer of civilised behaviour so they can survive the situation we’re stuck in. I begin to see what he means.”

“ ‘A mans gotta do what a man’s gotta do.’ Hah! I never though I’d hear that from you, Ben. But then I never thought I’d see you wearing a sword either. So, are you going to fight?”

“Maybe. As a last resort, yes, maybe. But Will and I have persuaded Allason to give ‘armed diplomacy’ a try first.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Bruce said. “The Taurs are too dumb to see that as an alternative. I don’t even think they’re smart enough to double cross you. They’ll just start fighting as soon as you get too close. Trust me, I understand their mentality.”

“Because you’re just like them?”

“That’s pretty close to it, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, we’ll see. Maybe we just need to present things in a way they’ll understand.”

Bruce shook his head. “I need to get out of here. It’ll be my turn to rescue you next, and I’m guessing it’ll be sooner rather than later. By the way,” he held up the stump of his left arm and looked at his brother, “Did you really just say ‘armed diplomacy’, you cheeky bastard?”