The Rebel Faction

“Your fear is not totally irrational,” spoke Lance Shipwright, rounding the corner ahead of Viryn Quell and Miette.

The Vice Commodore had not appeared alone, however; and was, in fact, at lead of an escort of some dozen or so armed and similarly equipped Delta unit androids. They appeared from before and behind the quickly moving pair, sequestering them between squads, front to back, and solid steel walls left to right. Though the order had not been given to brandish their side arms in any sort of directed or threatening manner it remained blaringly obvious, given the speed with which the androids arranged themselves, that the Delta units could easily bring their weapons to bare with incredible speed, doubtless. Their faces remained impassive, sublime, but there was no disputing the look in their synthetic eyes.

“Frankly I am shocked, Minister.” As he spoke the Vice Commodore moved towards the Minister of Ethics, keeping clear his amicable intentions, he raised his hands, palms up. “There is no need for you to threaten me, sir. I respect the laws of this Coalition and if it is my arrest you wish, you may have it. I will accompany you back to the Government proper, as your hostage of course, and make evident my case to authorities higher then your own.”

The Deltas rearranged themselves now, lining the hallway towards the transport to which the Minister was bound.

“It is clear to me that you are a man who dislikes ultimatums, no matter how genuflect, unless delivered from your own lips. Your response proves that. To that end I am going to give you the chance to deliver your own and I am going to make it painfully obvious what that ultimatum is to be.”

“In my opinion you have abused your position of authority and I will not allow you to continue that abuse. You will not return home sowing seeds among your allies, greasing the wheel against me, and issue warrants for my arrest. You will take me now and you will face the repercussions of that action, for I will be there when you make known your accusations of my alleged complicity. I will be there to defend myself and to call your own abilities into question.”

“I am not an illegal dictator, Mr. Quell. I am a facilitator. You will never see the ‘justice’ you seek, only unrest.”

“You have not done your job here today.”

The Vice Commodore crossed his arms over his chest. How he had managed to keep the emotion out of his voice and his features nonplused, he did not know. A strange calm had come over him. This could end only one of two ways and he had come to realize that no matter how he might try he would never be able to force that choice in his decision. All he could do now was to play his final card, to call Viryn Quell, throw down his cards and hope he came out on top.

“You have accused me of doing a thing that you obviously do not understand. You have taken a microcosm and expanded it to fill and consume your whole perspective. Doubtless you had me pegged as some sort of megalomaniac long before our actual meeting. You claim the title Minister of Ethics, yet you only apply those ethics that suit your ends.”

“I do not rule the Gestalt Colonies in any way shape or form that is left to the Provisional Government and the Colonial Defense Force. I am only responsible for the conduct of Colonial Technologies and Galactic Technologies alike.” Lance sensed that Viryn Quell was about to speak, to interrupt him. He cut him off and continued on. “When your government failed to concern itself with the welfare of the expanding workforce employed by Galactic Technologies it was left to me, as Chief Executive Officer of Galactic Technologies, to explore other options. As it became clear that the potential expansion would grown beyond myself, I began a process of outsourcing through the Galactic Coalition of Planets among other sources, all legitimate.”

“It is true; I may have breeched the original terms of my operating contract in some regard. To assuage that, as observed by your own assistant, I have bent over backwards to assure you of our honest intent. However, that contract was not between the Gestalt Colonies and the Galactic Coalition, but rather between myself and the Coalition Intelligence Bureau…” He let that float a moment, let Quell draw his own conclusions. “The results of my actions, however; are evident.”

He waved a hand around the station, “And none of this is complicit.”

“Of course,” he leveled eyes with Viryn Quell, “you wouldn’t know that, would you?”

“So take me away now, take me to account for what I have done. Just know this, in removing me now, at the key developmental stage, you are going to create a civil unrest which you, nor anyone near by, is equipped to deal with… no one, except the Empire of course.”

Vice Commodore Shipwright looked between the Minister and his aide, and then turned his gaze back in the direction from which they had come. “I see only two choices for myself. Correct me if I am wrong.”

Following the swift and final departure of Ethics Minister Viryn Quell a silence descended upon Lance Shipwright so deep and brooding that even his Delta-unit androids perceived his dramatic emotional change. For a few long moments that seemed to stretch on to infinity he just stood stock still, staring at the spot where the Ministers shuttle had previously sat.

His fingers twitched and worked themselves into frenzy at his side.

He had played every piece as best as he knew how, he had calculated and predicted the outcome to within a reasonable margin. Whatever happened, he had told himself, he would come out with a result that, if nothing else, could be prepared for once predicted. Somehow he had totally failed to see this, to foresee Viryn Quell pronounce him a criminal and disappear in a huff. To say nothing of the damage control he would have to play in the public relations department once news got out that the Ethics Minister had so blatantly insulted the Colonies.

Lance Shipwright was thinking furiously, absorbed in deep contemplation when Colonial Minister Ramos appeared from no where and roused him from his brooding. She had booked a shuttle to the Uniform as soon as word had come down that Viryn Quell had diverted from the schedule. Clearly Paula was distressed to have missed the Minister.

“Lance?”

“Paula,” returned the Vice Commodore. “Politics truly is your arena.”

“Did it go that badly?” The Colonial Minister looked worried, not at the outcome but at the mood it had left Lance in. “Tell me what happened.”

“He declared me a criminal and stormed off in a huff.”

“You did everything we discussed?” She asked. “What happened with the negotiations?”

The two started back towards his offices. A detachment of Colonial Security officers had appeared with the Minister. They fell into line with the mixed unit and trailed the pair back through the corridors of the Uniform.

“There were no negotiations.”

“It cannot be legal,” she declared. “This is not the Empire.”

“It’s not the Colonies he’s after, it’s me personally.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Oh.”

“It cannot be legal. My office will contact the Government proper as soon as humanly possible. Trust me on this Lance; I do not think you have anything to worry about. I think someone is trying to put the fear on you.”

He stopped them and leveled his eyes. “How is that?”

“He did not level any formal charges, and he did not come with a cadre of armed guards to take you away. Did he? No, this is a game I think. The Higher Ups unleashed a wild dog hoping to rattle your cage, to remind you…”

She did not finish the sentence; instead she just trailed off and moved a hand around the corridor.

“All this,” he nodded.

She agreed, “All this.”

“He has sequestered himself away. He has been isolated from outside contact verging on twenty five standardized hours,” stated the Delta unit keeping vigil post outside the main doors of the Vice Commodores private quarters aboard the RDS Uniform. It turned its perfectly formed amber eyes over the crowd that had assembled at Shipwrights door. The human replica android added, “And your clustering about his door stoop will not endeavor to resolve the solution with any additional expediency.”

The accumulated mob consisted primarily of division heads and group supervisors. These men and women had, by and large, been waiting patiently for the Vice Commodore to emerge from his office since his initial disappearance following the incident with the Ministry of Ethics. Though the Delta units had been attempting to discourage the gathering through colorful word play and careful interposing… and it had proven thus far successful. A security team had arrived hours ago though without and clear directive and as such found themselves milling about among the others.

“Look Rubik,” said one of the division advisory partners; an aged man with a stick figure and long white mane of unkempt hair. More vocal then the rest, he had been a presence since the onset. “I respect what you’re trying to do but we have a right to answers.”

“I understand your desire for information, sir. I am sure that Mr. Shipwright will be with you directly,” the Delta lied. Along with its cadre of orange-clad, jump-suited technicians it had been using the same line over and over. It was getting old.

The Delta, Rubik Rubicon, and his detachment of a dozen other units were attached directly to the office of the Vice Commodore which went some distance in explaining their loyalty in this matter but not enough to assuage the concerns of the humans involved. For their part however; the others were trying to test the androids resolve. Few among them knew the truth regarding the Deltas, and those that did had made themselves scarce.

The human to whom Rubicon had spoken was one Soda Weber, a renaissance man of sorts who had split his life between arenas political and technological. An immigrant worker, one of the many hundreds of thousands of displaced persons who had found shelter in the Colonies, Soda Weber had spun himself into a position of power among the working class… of whom there were many among the colonists. Something of a guerilla unioneer, Weber enjoyed flouting his strength, albeit limited, wherever possible. Weber was good people; when cutting through the thick he had revealed himself as a man who genuinely cared for the people he represented, a man with a honest desire to see the wishes of his constituents realized. His presence was a likely indicator of unrest among that demographic.

“Listen to me, Rubicon. People are worried. The envoy arrived, everyone knows it. It was covered by CGNews, the parade and everything…”

“I am well aware of the situation, sir,” interrupted the Delta.

“Well, la tee duh,” the man rolled his eyes. “What you’re probably not aware of is the situation in the Seven Cities. A million people lined the streets for the parade… Now what?”

“I see your point, Soda.”

The voice of Lance Shipwright appeared from a here to for hidden alcove. “But I would imagine you are being at least mildly pejorative. All the same, I thank you for your intentions.”

As one, the crowd turned towards the voice. Having emerged from his chambers via an alternative access he had effectively put himself behind the majority of those assembled, between the hallway exit and the body of the antechamber itself. Typically, he had dressed in a near-military style outfit; a uniform of subtle black and purple hues adorned with the emblem of the Gestalt Colonies upon his left breast. A white crackerjack sat atop his head.

“Also, I apologize to you all and those you have come to speak for. You have every right to the answers you deserve and I shall not be tetchy in this manner any further. “

Soda Weber threw his voice into the tumult of questions that made to bombard Lance. The Vice Commodore simply raised a hand to silence them. “If you will all bare with me for a moment longer and retire to the press hall, I have prepared a media release.”

He smiled, bowed and departed with the words, “Thank you.”

Just a few doors down and fifteen minuets later the same crowd had assembled in the press hall alongside an number of properly delegated news-people (most of whom had been given front row seats). The impromptu conference had been hastily assembled as indicated by those in attendance; many of whom had lingered on. Hasty though it was, this would speak directly to those who needed to hear it.

Vice Commodore Shipwright took to the stage, standing behind a podium bearing the crest of the Colonies. He unfolded his palms on the top of the wooden structure and looked out across the assembly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. You have waited this long and so I will not bore you with any further tedium. Getting right to the point…”

He inhaled a breath.

“Yesterday Viryn Quell, representative of the New Galactic Coalition of Planets and Minister of Ethics arrived as envoy to the Galactic Coalition. The purpose of his meeting, as this administration had been lead to understand, was to oversee and grant Coalition membership to you, the people of Gestalt. Unfortunately it seems apparent now that the goals of this administration and the goals of Viryn Quell met at a crossroads where-in a resolution was not forthcoming.”

“As you all doubtless know and witnessed live on CGNews, the Minister chose not to accept the warm greeting extended by the people of Gestalt and in stead proceeded directly to the RDS Uniform for the purposes of meeting directly with me.”

Lance paused as if preparing the next statement.

“The content of that meeting has been made available to the Provisional Government and Colonial Defense Forces alike, the further dissemination of that information will be conducted accordingly.”

“However; as Vice Commodore to the Gestalt Colonies and as facilitator to its growth, I feel a certain obligation to you, the people of Gestalt.” A sigh escaped his lips. “And to that end I am stepping down from my position…”

A gasp moved through the room. Again, Lance raised his hand for silence.

“My position as Vice Commodore compromises the Coalitions willingness to accept the Gestalt Colonies as a member nation. The Ministry of Ethics has leveled criminal accusations against me personally and until such time as those charges are addressed and properly resolved I cannot continue to facilitate the development of the Gestalt Colonies.”

“Furthermore, I am entering into a state of self-imposed house-arrest aboard the RDS Uniform until that time and until the Government of the Galactic Coalition provides reasonable explanations for the stance indicated by Viryn Quell with the authority of the Ministry of Ethics.”

Unable to stem the sudden noise, an ambient roar of questioning and complaining among those seated before the podium, Lance raised his voice above the din.

“The Gestalt Colonies cannot hope to survive in the current galactic climate without the support of a significant political entity such as the Galactic Coalition of Planets. I know there are those among you who speak of sovereignty and of independence free of galactic regimes, but to those people I would offer warnings of caution. The Colonies must become a member state within the Coalition and you will be unable to do so as long as there are issues of collusion and conspiracy ruminating. Having removed myself from the equation and made myself answerable to the accusations made evident by the Ministry of Ethics I hope to further prostrate myself before the powers that be in the hopes that you, the people of Gestalt will enjoy a bright, safe and insured future.”

“That is all for now, thank you.”

The smug, arrogant, self satisfied grin worn by Lance Shipwright, descending the umbilical between two armed Colonial honor guards (Commandos in ceremonial garb), was one he had crafted and practiced just for the Minister of Ethics, Viryn Quell. It was, in fact, quite rehearsed; he had been planning to unveil his shiny new shit-eating grin since his public announcement only days earlier. In truth the whole affair, the whole prepackaged deal had been set up to embarrass the over-eager Ethics Minister.

Their meeting could not have been better prepared for.

The doors of the Gestalt shuttle peeled open causing a momentary rush of air to rush out of the shuttle into the airlock shared by the two spacecraft. That gentle pressure exchange backwash tugged at the Vice Commodore's tunic and ruffled his hair. His hands, clasped in irons and held helplessly in front of him, Lance had removed all rank insignia from his uniform and donned a gray, dull toned suit that seemed to match the occasion perfectly. He had, purposely, gone without a shave for two days and was sporting a subtle brown stubble on his jaw. The two Colonials in escort were similarly dressed to down play their generally imposing nature.

A flash shot through the corridor created between the two vessels, and then another.

Vice Commodore Lance Shipwright, deposed, had the foresight to enlist the media to aide his cause. A cadre of fully half a dozen reporters, all human and male, save for one elegant looking female to the rear. Each one brandished a plethora of recording devices intended to document the occasion. They swarmed, as people of the media often do, down the ramp connecting the two shuttles.

It was Lance Shipwright who spoke first, and he said, quite simply, “Minister Quell, as you have requested; I willingly give myself into your custody under the authority granted you by the New Galactic Coalition of Planets.”

He held his manacled hands out towards the Minister before allowing his gaze to meander over the security detail that Quell had apparently required. A dismayed look passed across Shipwrights features, he frowned at older, more senior politician.

“Indeed,” came the voice of Colonial Minister Ramos from the rear of the formation. “Though the legality of your maneuver is yet to be ratified, Minister.”

A slick, black uniform accentuated her curves and hugged her hips as, like a slinky, deadly predator, Paula Ramos made her way to the forefront. She placed herself directly between Lance and Viryen and, hands on hips, fixed him with her most pen nitrating stare. A professional dominatrix would have been hard pressed to beat that glare. It bored through the hearts of men.

“Whether or not the Galactic Coalition of Planets chooses to recognize our Charter,” her icy, cobalt blue eyes moved across the assembly. Pausing just long enough to allow the reporters to snap a few choice pictures, she continued, “Your actions will of course be called into question alongside those of the Vice Commodore. But for now, let us get this pony show done with. Present your warrant and charges.”

“Do I have anything to say in my own defense?” Lance echoed. “I should not think you care to hear it, to be quite honest.”

The Vice Commodore adjusted his position comfortably and seemingly nonplused by the physical molestations by the Ethics Minister. He studied his manacles before moving his eyes across the confiscated holo-disks.

“However; it occurs to me that you may want to know,” he began with a gesture towards the aforementioned disks. “That those are not the only copies. You see, what with the trend towards wireless, the Gestalt Media utilizes a broadcast share network. Those discs, of which you seem so proud, are simply hard copies for the data that is transmitted digitally. As a matter of fact, aboard the very shuttle that ushered me here, my people are doubtless uploading the same data back to Gestalt I where-in the information is likely being disseminated amongst the populace.”

Lance smirked, “I would wager, quite heavily, that within the next few minutes the Gestalt Holo-Net will be flooded with images of you, in your anger and haste, slapping my wrists in iron and man-handling me to my seat… Which I am sure will play very well against my demurring to your legal authority. The phrase ‘unnecessary violence’ comes to mind.”

Dismissing his smirk and resuming his more business like visage, Lance regarded the troopers at Viryn’s side. They were, or appeared to be, the standard issue Coalition Soldier. He doubted this very much, however; and thought it more likely that Quell had the foresight to keep his own batch of elite guards close at hand. Thoughts of escape were far from his mind.

“But that is all just window dressing isn’t it?”

He reclined somewhat and placed his hands in his lap. “Now then, as they say in all the good dramas; take me to your leader.”

“Oh,” he snapped his fingers. “You’ll also be interested to know that my life-signs are being constantly monitored by a vessel which your sensors will be unable to detect. This vessel will shadow this stately shuttle. Should anything ill befall me before I reach conference with your superiors… We’ll, let’s not make threats.”

“Suffice to say, Viryn I have no intention of legitimizing the Colonies through you. You have been determined to sabotage my efforts from the beginning, for reasons I cannot comprehend. I am certain that others within your government will see the clear advantage of having the Colonies within the Coalition fold even if you cannot. So let us end this debate, as neither side will gain any advantage, and dispense with the pretense. Take me to your superiors and we will see about having your actions ratified. Otherwise, I fear, the millions of people living under the Gestalt banner may look for refuge elsewhere… and given that that population is almost entirely human, and closer to Imperial territory then Coalition… Well…”

Lance pressed his eyes shut. “As I said, I don’t believe you honestly care about anything I’ve just said, but I have said it and there you have it. Now, if you don’t mind, I will reserve my right, as a Coaltion citizen, to remain silent.” Again he eyed his manacles, “Assuming you plan to place me legally under arrest rather then, as it has been thus far; your illegal detainment of my person. So, if you’d be so kind as to read me my rights, you can then feel completely free to fuck off.”