We don’t do illegal jobs too often – and our bread and butter remains standard mining jobs – but there’s a certain element to my crew that explains their… open-mindedness to lawbreaking.
Out in the cold of space? Mining attracts a rough crowd. When you’re a crew on a rickety ship like the Wayward Scythe? Rough doesn’t even begin to describe it. Chris and the other three miners knew what they were getting themselves into, and I’m confident they can handle whatever punishment Captain Aelon metes out.
But Theme? He won’t last.
Felix, the second in command of my mining crew, is a tough fellow in his mid-thirties. He’s been mining since he was twelve, and has a steady head on his shoulders – steadier than Chris, at least.
He steps forward – asserting more authority than Chris by doing so – and addresses Captain Aelon.
“With all due respect – we’re facing forty years in prison. We’re dead men if we stay on this ship. You can’t blame us for trying to escape.”
Captain Aelon snorts humorlessly.
“Aye – and any caged beast will try to escape. It’s only nature.” Then his cold, slate-grey eyes narrow. “However, you hurt one of my men. You will be punished.”
Theme drops to his hands and knees. He doesn’t even notice he’s kneeling in his own piss, he’s so terrified. His face is pale white, like that of a corpse.
“Please,” he begs. “Please – I didn’t have anything to do with this!”
The other four miners are glaring at him. They were contemptuous when Theme failed to assault the Aurelians alongside him, and now they’re disgusted by his cowardice.
So, too, is Captain Aelon.
“Stand up!”
Aelon’s voice shudders through the room, resonating with a powerful echo. Theme stands up instantly, seemingly astonished that he can manage to raise himself on his shaking legs.
Yet Aelon has a voice that cannot be refused. As cocky, arrogant and preening as the Aurelian commander is – there’s no denying his natural aura of command.
Aelon observes the five men, placing his hands behind his back.
“I’m an understanding man, if not a sympathetic one. Because I understand your motivations for your foolish actions, I’ll give you the choice. Twenty lashes, or to be thrown out of the airlock.”
The men gasp. My stomach churns.
I’d hoped Aelon would be merciful. Far from it.
Twenty lashes from an Aurelian whip is survivable – if you’re strong, fit, and the man administering the brutal punishment doesn’t make a point of trying to kill you.
But Theme? Theme won’t last. Twenty lashes will break him. Being blown out of the airlock into the vacuum of space would probably be a mercy to him. You at least die quickly in space – instead of suffering a lingering death by the injuries that lash will leave you wearing.
But while the punishment is cruel, I know Aelon has no choice. Chris had tried to gut one of his men when he’d showed them mercy. If he’d succeeded, Aelon would be punishing a murder rather than an escape attempt.
Chris needs to learn not to make that kind of mistake again, and the hard men of my mining crew need to learn not to follow the orders of such a reckless idiot. They deserve their twenty lashes – and I know they can handle them.
But they’ve doomed Theme. He’s already shaking like a leaf at the thought.
The poor guy. He’s barely an inch taller than me, and I’m pretty sure I outweigh him. His problem is more of body than spirit. He’s always been as physically frail as he’s been intellectually gifted – serving deftly as logistics officer and technician aboard my ship, but leaving the physical labor to Chris and his grunts.
My stomach churns, but I know what I must do.
My voice cracks as I address Captain Aelon.
“Captain,” the use of his rank demonstrates my conviction, “by Aurelian law, the captain of a vessel may take the punishment of their crew.” I nod towards Theme. “I will take the lashes, instead.”
I can’t believe the words that have just left my mouth – but if I hadn’t said them, Theme could die.
Everyone suddenly turns to me – from my crew to the Aurelian guards. Captain Aelon’s suddenly got fire in his eyes.
“Don’t insult me, Captain Tasha,” he snorts. “That’s twenty lashes each. No human can survive a hundred lashes.” He snorts. “Not even an Aurelian could weather that.”
I say nothing – just standing there defiantly.
Aelon continues:
“My punishment is fitting. It won’t kill your precious crew.” He glances at Theme. “Well, not all of them. It’ll just make sure they’re never foolish enough to indulge in such behavior again.”
I swallow hard. It’s painful against my dry throat, but I’m committed to my path.
“The law is the law, Captain. I will take their lashes.”
Aelon is unblinking. I stand tall against that piercing grey gaze. I know he won’t back down, and yet neither will I. My crew might have disobeyed my orders and caused this problem – but they’re still my crew, and I’m still responsible for them.
All of them – even the ones old enough to be my father. Even the ones old enough to know better, like that hothead Chris.
Aelon looks down at me, and his eyes flash.
“Aye – the law is the law… But didn’t we have a conversation about this earlier?”
My mind replays our talk in his bedchamber – when he’d told me: “You assume I follow the law.”
Aelon repeats that statement now.
“You assume I follow the law – their law - but this is my ship, and so my word is the law aboard The Instigator.”
Again, this rose the question of Aelon’s alignment with the Empire. Was he Rogue? Or an independent? Or was he merely refuting my accusation out of pride?
In any event, this stony-faced Aurelian had shown his hand. He was
