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Decision in the Dark
Jackie
He checked his watch again.
Nearly two days he had been hiding in the dark here, and to what effect?
True, the rebels had, a little while ago posted some of their own people around this so-called meeting point, but perhaps they were merely creating a diversion, and coming together elsewhere. That was what he would have done.
Why were he, and his group of men, ensconced here anyway? They would rather have spent the time kicking their heels in the barracks.
His ambition wasn't it? Unless one had a patron - preferably one who was rising fast - an officer, no matter how able could not rise above a certain rank. And this was the best way to catch somebody's attention.
It was this that caused discontent among officers like him, no matter how loyal to the Federation, or how much its values and means of conduct had been internalised, so that they were automatically applied. Did the High Command not realise that the jokes bandied about of the middling ranks, that the quickest way to become a general would be to join a rebel group, had an element of warning in them?
Could he join the rebels? Leave his comfortable existence, and reasonably certain if boring existence, his future mapped out, with a post or two near retirement at a higher rank in the back of beyond to boost his pension, for that of a rebel military adviser? If they were successful - a big if - he could have any post he wanted, even Supreme Commander.
Take this political they were trying to capture now. He was popular and he was active - which was why the Federation Administration were after him. He had a basic grasp of tactics, which would have got him somewhere in the military. No doubt if he got into power though he would be like all the other politicians who spouted how they would reform the situation when out of office, but quickly conformed once in it.
I am *not* a rebel. I just want the military hierarchy to be more open to officers of merit. I am no hypocrite - I admit I am thinking of myself in particular. If sitting here in the dark and capturing a rebel is the best way of bringing myself to the attention of someone suitable, I will do that. If not, I will consider all other options.
A sudden sound: a movement of the air. Softly spoken words, too indistinct to make out. Yes! I will capture myself a rebel or two, and see where it takes me.
A few tapped signals on the 'silent sender' and his men started to take position. Must wait until it is clear who is here. If it is not the rebels would it look better careerwise to have a gang of criminals, a group of Terra Nostra, an illegal religious meeting or one of those wild orgies that reputedly took place in hiding? The last would certainly be the most entertaining.
The voices became more numerous, and someone almost brushed against his hiding place. Definitely a rebel meeting.
Lights suddenly went on, and he ensconced himself further in his hiding place, tapping out more signals and commands. The one he was after was here! Good.
He sensed rather than saw his troopers move into position. He judged the time was right and gave the signal.
The next few minutes were a perfectly executed anti-rebel action, even if he said so himself. There was some shooting, inevitably, and a few rebels were seriously injured or killed.
His name was called out by someone making a report and he turned. 'His' rebel was fighting a guard, making an attempt for the weapon.
The guard fell, and the rebel raised the gun. He was swaying slightly, distracted by a major leg wound, which affected his aim.
The knowledge that he was going to be shot caused a strange paralysis, save for an instinctive movement of his arm to protect his face. Nobody else moved.
A sound of a gun being fired, then pain in his arm, agony in his face.
'Sub-commander Travis…' Parr, he thought, as he faded into the darkness. Faithful as ever.
'Sub-commander Travis.' He turned.
'Morning, Marriott.' Here to check his handiwork before Travis returned to work.
'You'll have to have more work on the arm - it can be customised to suit your requirements,' the surgeon said.
'Yes, I will do that.' He could cope with that. It was not as if he would be the only one with such prosthetics in the forces - anyone who could be reincorporated into the forces was. 'You did a good job of it.'
'I did my job - like you. The facial injuries will take somewhat longer to handle - more dangerous as you realise.'
'No. I am what I am. Better than Blake's likely fate.'
'Have they decided? Execute him or turn him into a puppet of the Federation?'
'Dead heroes are dangerous. He'll be made a Federation puppet.' As are we all, Travis thought grimly. 'Then one of his own will kill him for betraying his cause. If not, perhaps I will.'
the end
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