The power of corruption
The commander of a small C-class cruiser of the line, Star Fleet Captain John Phillips, stood on his bridge looking at the mother planet of the human race. He sighed deeply and said to his first mate:
“Look, Sam. There she is — the cradle of our civilisation. This is where humanity was born. I can’t wait for tomorrow and the start of our leave down there. Since I was a child I’ve dreamed of breathing the air of the Mother Planet. In her fairy tales my grandmother told me that the first time it happens you feel an indescribable bliss, as if you had been reunited with something dear and long forgotten.”
“Captain Phillips,” replied Sam, the ageing, eternal first mate of his commander, gazing at the planet with no less admiration, “we have given twenty years to the Star Fleet, and the grey is already showing in places. For a week now the whole crew has been enjoying the exclusive privilege of standing honour guard over our first planet…”
The captain and his second-in-command, still admiring the view of the solar system from the bridge, went over their services to the Empire like two old men, recalling the battle of Vottovara and the siege of Karnid, for which the whole crew had earned the right to stand symbolic guard in orbit around the mother planet.
Far more serious fortifications had been raised on every planet of the system and let no potential enemy fleet come anywhere near the first planet. And not only planets: many of the asteroids on their long orbits had been rebuilt into flying fortresses under the local control of an artificial intelligence switched to kamikaze combat mode.
So a posting to guard duty in Earth’s orbit was handed to a Star Fleet crew as an honorary reward for services in battle; of tactical, let alone strategic, significance the watch had none…
“Attention! Battle stations! Commander of the cruiser Veteran*, Captain Phillips: confirm receipt of order. Execution: immediate.”* Every compartment of the ship lit up with flashing orange light.
The captain’s face, as he read the order displayed on the holographic screen of his bracelet, grew darker by the second. Most of the officers had already taken their posts at the control consoles and waited for their commander’s orders with iron discipline and poorly concealed bewilderment.
“Control module ready for action.” “Drop bay ready for action.” “Reactor compartment ready for action.” “First plasma battery ready for action…” — in a dry voice the ship’s address system repeated throughout the cruiser the readiness reports arriving on the captain’s bracelet.
“Order received. Read the order to the entire crew. Carry out the order.” Captain Phillips gave the command in a low whisper, looking blankly at the planet of his childhood dreams and saying a silent goodbye to his leave — and to his career as well.
“Captain, there must be some mistake,” came the voice of Sam, who had read the order on his own bracelet. “Is this what we were posted to honour guard for — to fire the main gun at the capital?”
“You understand it all, Sam,” Captain Phillips replied, so that everyone on the bridge could hear. “We cannot not fire, even if this is the result of sabotage. Under the general regulations of the Star Fleet, for failure to carry out an order in combat mode the entire command staff is executed. To say nothing of the disgrace we would bring on our epaulettes.”
“Coordinates confirmed. Preparing reactor for salvo. Spinning up ioniser. Warming main plasma gun. Estimated time to firing: forty seconds,” the officers relayed their reports to the bridge from every side.
“But they won’t let us serve the Empire any longer either,” Captain Phillips went on. “In the capital there are at least four noble backsides to every square metre, and here we come, handsome as you please, let fly with the main calibre and leave a hole a hundred metres deep and ten kilometres across. It doesn’t matter who gave us this mission, or for what good purpose. We’ll be the ones to blame.”
“Ship ready to fire.”
“Fire,” Captain Phillips ordered at once, and sat down in his chair, staring blankly at some far-off point. Only now did those around him notice how much he had aged.