UNIVERSAL TURBULENT

XXV - PLANET EARTH

The corridor was momentarily clear. Chief Petty Officer Grinnell hollered "Now!" and began to run. Captain Tyson Salom followed. What began as a thin trail of blood droplets thickened and vanished under a body. The rating lay facedown. Loyalist? Mutineer? There was no way to tell.

Half-congealed blood had adhered itself to the bottom of Salom's black high-tops. They made a scritching noise as she ran. Someone yelled, and she waited for the seemingly inevitable impact.

But the port side midship lock appeared up ahead, the hatch opened, and they slid inside. Bullets flattened themselves on metal. Salom used her override to lock the door.

"This looks about right", Grinnell said, pulling a set of emergency space armor out of the locker. "Hope you like white".

"It's one of my favorites", Salom said as she struggled into the suit. "The shoulder beacons are a bit much, though".

"You might want to deactivate those hummers", the noncom said thoughtfully. "The idea is to be unobstructive, not the other way around".

Salom nodded, settled the helmet over her head, and felt it mate to the suit. By slipping out through the lock and making their way along the outside surface is the ship, the twosome hoped to bypass the mutineers. That was the theory, anyway, and it might even work.

Grinnell used a thickly gloved hand to pat the top of her helmet. He looked huge in the armor. "Ready when you are, ma'am".

Salom nodded, realized the helmet remained stationary, and said, "Roger".

The officer pushed on a green panel, waited for the ship to pump the atmosphere out of the lock, and watched the hatch iris open.

The next phase of the plan was easier than she had expected it to be. Earth loomed below. Most of the planet was blue, but there were patches of brown frosted with white. The sight never ceased to amaze her. Even with her life on the line.

The journey from midship to bow took no more than five minutes. The bow hatch was clearly marked. Salom punched the override code into the glove-sized keypad, switched to the command frequency, and chinned her mike. "Lieutenant Roman... Do you read me?"

The junior officer's voice was high and tight. "Yes, ma'am. Loud and clear. Where are you?"

"Chief Grinnell and I are about to join you via the E-lock. Tell the Marines to save their ammo for the bad guys".

Roman grinned inspite of herself. "Yes ma'am. Shall I muster a side party?"

"Not this time", Salom replied. "But thanks for the thought. See you in oh-five".

The minutes passed slowly, as if determined to t*****e her, but were finally over. The hatch opened. Salom stomped onto the bridge and released her helmet. The control area looked like hell. It appeared as if the forward bulkhead had been sprayed with machine g*n fire, two bodies were stacked against the port bulkhead, and the air smelled of ozone. The crew watched with a mixture of relief and concern. The captain had the deck; that was good, but what could she do?

Salom spoke with a confidence she didn't feel. "All right... Let's bring this thing to a speedy conclusion. Seal every compartment in the ship. That includes the corridors.

"Chief Grinnell, take the Marines. Clear the corridors first. Announce your presence, order everybody out, and take all of them prisoner. If they resist, shoot to kill".

"Roman, sort the prisoners into three groups: those we know to be loyal, those we can't be sure of, and those who took part. Lock the last two groups into different compartments and post guards outside. Questions?"

Roman nodded. "Yes ma'am. What if some of the crew refuse to leave their compartment?"

Salom's face grew hard. "They pump the air out, send a but burial detail, and blow them through a lock".

Roman paled. "Yes ma'am. Right away".

It took the better part of three hours to regain complete control of the Chameleon. Twelve mutineers refused to surrender and were killed. Their bodies entered the same orbit as the ship. Salom watched one of them tumble through the main viewscreen and searched for feelings of regret. There were none to be found.

* * *

The normally blue sky was obscured by a thick layer of yellow-gray smoke. It covered the city like a shroud. Aircraft, some of which dropped bombs, were visible one moment and gone the next. A double row of explosions marched down Colima road. Columns of smoke shot into the air and carried palm trees, ground cars, and chunks of masonry with them.

Closer in, not more than two miles away, there were even more exclusions as well-sited howitzers fired from Haruna Heights, and went 155mm shells into the homes below. Homes that might otherwise provide cover for the enemy. They came apart with frightening ease. Black craters marked were they had stood.

The Tactical Operations Center, or TOC, consisted is little more than a half-leveled house, some crew-served machine guns, and a robot-transportable holo tank - a device designed to display how friendly forces were deployed, but which was more useful as a stool.

The deadly thug, thug, thug of the mortars could be heard to the rear as Legion Cadet Leader Morgana Morgan peered over the battlefield and struggled to marshal her thoughts.

She was nervous, very nervous, because in spite of all the books she had read, the lectures she had h heard, and the sometimes diabolical virtual reality scenarios she had survived, the student had never fired a shot in anger, much less ordered others to do so.

Now, as the mutineers advanced towards the center of the city, she would not only enter into combat for the first time, but lead her fellow cadets as well.

As if reading her mind, or sharing her angst, Staff Sergeant Rudy Rycker touched her arm. "There ain't nothing to it, ma'am. Shoot, move and communicate. That's all you gotta do".

The words provided some much-needed comfort and helped push the fear toward the back of her mind. Rycker should have been in command, but that wasn't how things were done in the Legion, not if an officer was available. Even one who wanted to go home. Her family lived not more than sixty miles to the east. What were her parents doing, as she prepared to die?