Daily Flash Fiction

Byron stared out the round ships porthole at the gas giant beyond, its ring illuminated by the blue sun. It looked almost like something out of science fiction, one of the old serials from the twentieth century.

Of course, in those serials everyone had enough to eat.

Frederic sat down beside him. “Rough music abroad tonight.”

Byron frowned “We haven’t been allowed to play music for a month, waste of ship’s resources. And do you remember what happened when Galvesen tried to make a harmonica out of spare parts?”

“It’s a euphemism. Rough music. Its what they called it in the old days when the cannonballs rolled across the lower decks of an old galleon. But really it’s about mutinous thoughts.”

“Mutiny. Like on the Bounty?”

“Somewhat, but I doubt it’d be that easy. Captain Auron isn’t totally incompetent, he’s just overcome with a little vision. Can I count on your support?”

Byron paused. “Would you take us home?”

“No, but I’d go back to that uncharted colony we saw a few weeks back. There are women and good eating there”

“I have a girl at home.”

Frederic shrugged “Either you starve out here and your body goes back to her, or you live. Maybe we could find a way to send for her, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Mutiny’s still a capital crime.”

Byron said nothing. Frederic walked away.

The days passed normally. Byron spent most of his time in front of his console checking code and running simulations for the next jump. They had been pursuing the signal shadow for the past month and a half, and were now five weeks overdue returning to the Mars colony. The captain was convinced there was something they were chasing, possibly the enemy.

The Earth Theogony had been fighting its war with the Anaezedi for seven years now, and there had been two ship engagements in that time – skirmishes. The entire war was fought with railguns hyperspace cruise missiles, but the Theogony was convinced of a threat of Anaezedi ships breaking through to Holy Terra and raiding the chaste homeworld.

It was assumed they would raid, of course. They did not originate from Terra and were thus not God’s Chosen, and as such they must be degenerate and monstrous. No-one had ever seen an Anaezedi, of course, and Byron wasn’t entirely convinced they knew they were at war.

On the fifth day after his meeting with Frederic the ship suddenly ground to a halt, the tumbler stopped rotating, and everything started to float. Then the secure door at the end of the hall blew open, and Frederic came in through a cloud of purple smoke, bearing a plasma rifle and a cutlass. The sword was not for show – it was the most practical way to fight on a spacecraft that would ensure no explosive decompression.

As he passed some men tried to stand and fight, only to find themselves slashed open or kicked by some remarkable null-g acrobatics. Frederic had fought in the colony wars, back before artificial gravity tumblers were widespread. Frederic stopped by Byron console and held out a cutlass, hilt first. Byron hesitated. He thought briefly of Karyn, and then thought of his own stomach, and he took the blade and leapt out of his seat, pulling himself along behind Frederic and the other loyalists. They smiled as they admitted him.

The command pod was in disarray as Auron roared to his men close to the hub, holding on to a handle and desperate to get control back. Then he saw Frederic and paused. He saw Frederic’s men, and his eyes locked on Byron. Then he nodded.

They put him in an escape pod with a homing beacon, along with ten loyalists. Then Frederic pulled the escape handle and watched them go.

“Well then. To U-24493 and the uncharted colony!” the men gave up a cry. One man looked haunted, staring back from a console. Byron floated over with Frederic and then they saw it.

A ship, unfamiliar in shape, like a great spinning disc, drawing close. Its rim flashed with sparks.

“We have incoming, sir! multiple particulate bombardment, it’s a railgun launch!”

Frederic gaped.