The Colony on Meranda IV - Part 8

This post started off as a one-off response to a writing prompt in the Freewriters Community. Then I wrote a part 2 (with the outcome literally determined by a coin toss).

But that naturally leads to a part 3, which is where this short series comes in. I felt that doing it in just one post really wouldn't give enough time to build up a bit of suspense 😀 Enjoy !

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Image created by AI in NightCafe Studio

Governor Dafang and Doctor Helen Thwaites were deep in conversation as they disembarked from the Passault I carrier and walked across the landing pad to the low grey block which acted as the terminal for both the airport and spaceport.

Dafang wanted to know all he could about the indigenous life form Helen claimed to have encountered when she was last here. The survey mission which had approved the foundation of the colony and cost the scientist her career.

They walked through the atrium of the main arrival lounge, an optimistic description of an extruded, spartan open space, Mr Garnes strode into sight. He was backed by two dozen members of the Colonial Gendarmerie.

The men were in full dress uniforms; sky blue jackets braided with white, matching uniform trousers, knee boots, and red Imperial Type I helmets. This time, they weren't carrying neuro-whips. They'd been issued Kjaelon Mark IXb laser rifles. Most of them were young men, local toughs recruited into the Gendarmerie because they were handy in a bar fight. It was clear most had never handled a laser rifle before and had little clue what to do with them.

Dafang couldn't help but notice an absence of the old hands, the retired veterans who made the Gendarmerie a useful force. The rifles and uniforms were, in truth, relics. Massively outdated surplus equipment drawn from Imperial stores that had been sitting there for centuries, no longer suitable for front line service.

Chief Administrator Ribbin Garnes halted and drew himself up to his full height. At six feet four, he towered over everyone else, but his build was so slender that it still didn't have the effect he'd hoped.

Before anyone had the chance to speak, he launched into what was clearly a pre-prepared set-piece.

"Mihai Dafang, Governor of Meranda IV, I am invoking Colonial Law Chapter nine, paragraph thirteen. I declare you to be mentally unfit or negligent in your rule of this colony to an extent which threatens it's viability or survival. I am therefore assuming command of this colony until such time as Colony Central confirms me as permanent governor or sends a qualified replacement out. You and your doctor friend are under arrest. Guards ! Seize them !"

Four guards stepped forward, rifles held menacingly across their chests, white knuckles giving away their true nervousness.

Taking a second to compose himself, Dafang didn't immediately respond in any way. He didn't want to give substance to any accusations of unfitness. Then he spoke, keeping his voice carefully level.

"So, Garnes, you've taken the job you felt all along should have been yours. Well done. Tell me; do you know what is happening here ? Do you know the information that was suppressed from the initial survey ? Do you have a plan to avoid any further needless deaths ? You might want to talk to the doctor, here, rather than lobotomising her and sending her off to be a sex slave on a pleasure planet."

Garnes had probably expected some kind of rant, not this reasoned reply. The expression on his alien face made clear that he felt some of the cards he thought he had slipping through his fingers. His next words came out with a mix of bluster and arrogance.

"You are an incompetent weak fool, Dafang. Of course I have a plan. I've sent an urgent message via Colony Central to get the nearest orbital bombardment squadron here together with a division of Imperial troops. Whatever is killing my people will be blasted from space and then mopped up by front line soldiers."

Then, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head, he turned to his Gendarmes.

"Quick, send a dozen men to impound the transport and arrest the pilot."

The militia trotted out of the terminal towards the landing pad, not holding any kind of formation or under the leadership of any competent officer.

Dafang struggled hard to hold in a chuckle when he saw them milling around on the landing pad in a state of confusion. They were too late; Wardek had seen them coming and taken off, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of dust and exhaust gases. The Passault was rapidly gaining altitude and banking hard, jinking left and right to avoid the few desultory and poorly-aimed shots sent after it.

"Take them away and lock them up !" Garnes commanded. "If they try to resist or escape, shoot them !"

All Dafang could do was shake his head in disgust as the Gendarmes escorted the two of them away. Helen, on the other hand, was pale and looked very frightened.

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Its times like this I would just look them dead in the eye and say: "If you keep this up, we are all going to die."

!LOL

Well done on another installment! Its shaping up to be a great series!

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