Captain Dawson observed his men carry cases of supply down the transport ship. He knew he might have disappointed the Warden, but he was simply following orders. What could the Warden do? File a complaint against him for obeying the protocols?
The Captain had always been a by-the-books man. His emotional intelligence was in the dirt. He knew this was why he, despite getting good grades in the Obsidian Naval Academy, got handed what might be one of the most boring and even humiliating jobs on the planet. Captaining a ship that likely would never see combat. In fact, when he got this appointment, most of the friends he made in the Naval Academy mocked him behind his back or to his face. They, in turn, became Captains and First Officers on starships of Battlefleet Obsidian or other planetary defense fleets.
Some of them ranked up across the years. Of course, many more ended up as charred, floating corpses in the cold, uncaring vacuum of space.
Captain Dawson didn't mind this at all. He didn't want to chase glory or wealth with his life. Nope...he was perfectly fine with living a long and uneventful life. Occasionally boss around a few crew mates. Collect the salaries and benefits of his rank. What more could a man want?
Suddenly, a burst of gunshots broke out from within the walls of Darkbane Prison, interrupting the Captain’s thoughts. Startled, the man snapped to the facility with a look of shock on his face. Everyone else on the dock had a similar reaction as they paused their actions and snapped to the source of the gunshots.
“Sir?” Captain Dawson asked in confusion. “Are those gunshots?”
Warden Locke glanced at Captain Dawson. Technically, since all designated communication devices needed the security code of certain officers to work, Captain Dawson here should be the only one who could dispatch a message to the Darkbane Security Ring to expose what was going on here.
However, trying to storm them out in the open could have unintended consequences. Maybe the First Officer of the transport would turn the boat around and flee, leaving the Warden with no way of pursuing. Maybe the crew members would have a chance to shoot back. Maybe the Captain shared his security code with his crew, which was highly unlikely. Regardless, they still needed to lure the Captain and most of his armed crew into the facility, where they could be handled properly and carefully.
This was what the gunshots were about.
Warden Locke didn't answer the Captain. Instead, he put on another mask of surprise and tapped his earpiece. His expression changed as if he just received a shocking message.
“What? Say that again?” He frowned and made sure Captain Dawson could see it. “Ok...ok. District 6, 9, and 10? How did this happen? Doesn’t matter! Get the Communication Centre to contact the Security Ring! Have Vice-Warden Stone on that! Mobilize the Security Forces at once and get all non-combat personnel to the shelters! Help is on the way!”
He tapped his earpiece once again and snapped to Captain Dawson, who was staring at him with a worried look. He heard what the Warden said, and he didn't like where this was going at all.
What Warden Locke said later only confirmed his fears.
“There is a riot in the facility. The prisoners have somehow gotten out of the cells. Districts 6, 9, and 10 are overwhelmed. We’ve got dozens of guards dead. A squad of prisoners is heading to the Armory.” He raised his voice. “Captain, it seems like you and your men are getting a tour of the facility after all. I will need the help of every man under arms you have if I want to contain this riot before it gets out of hand!”
Captain Dawson was still standing there, unsure of what the hell was going on and what he should do. One second he was on just another routine mission. Now, he was facing a riot? A serious one by the looks of it, no less!
His first instinct was to get himself out of trouble. He was never a brave one, and this was never his responsibility.
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“Sir, my duty is to my ship…”
Warden Locke wasn’t listening to him. Even as he tried to protest, the Warden was barking orders at the men all around him. The two squads of security troops turned and ran back into the facility, likely to combat this supposed riot. The transfer personnel looked at each other in confusion, not really understanding what they should do in a situation like this.
Hearing the Captain’s attempt to get himself out of this situation, the Warden let out a cold smirk. Without hesitation, he drew his Arbiter Handgun and pressed it to the man’s head.
“Your duty is to the security of this facility, Captain!” He barked loudly enough to ensure most of the crewmates could hear it. “Are you refusing to do your duty, Captain? If so, that makes you a deserter, and by the authority given to me by the Holy Emperor, I can execute you on the spot!”
This was another smart thing Warden Locke did. He manufactured a riot, one that didn't really exist. Of course, the Captain and his crew didn't know that. As far as they knew, there really was a deadly crisis, and that gave Warden Locke, the officer with the superior rank, absolute authority over Captain Dawson and his crew.
The Imperial command hierarchy was very strict. Officers could summarily execute those under them for disobeying an order and no one would question it. This was very common, in fact, on the battlefield. Many Imperial Nobles believed fear was the key to keeping people in line, and what was better at instilling fear than shooting them in the head?
The crew members have dropped their supplies and gathered around to observe the situation. All of them were armed, and the Warden’s security squads had left already. However, none of the crew members even attempted to defend their Captain. If the Captain was shot for disobeying a direct order, then he deserved it. Anyone that tried to protect him could be subject to the same punishment. What could the crew do? Shoot Warden Locke? And then what?
Captain Dawson immediately felt sweat dripping down his back as he stared at the dark muzzle of the gauss handgun. His lips shook in terror, and it took him a while to gather the strength to come up with an excuse.
“I am not disobeying your order, sir...I just think it’s better to call for help first. I need to be back at my cabin to do that…”
“I have already sent out a call for help, so you don’t need to waste time on that.” Warden Locke tilted his head toward the facility. Captain Dawson could hear the gunshots were getting more and more intense. The Warden heard it as well, and he snapped back to the Captain with renewed fury.
“Captain Dawson, take your men and reinforce the defenses at the Armory! Defend it at all costs! If the Armory is lost, we are done!” As if worried that the Captain would be too scared to act, he offered the man a few words of comfort. “Don’t worry, Captain! There are 1,500 troops in the prison! All we need is some time to mobilize them! As long as you can buy some time, we will put down this riot!”
Warden Locke snapped to one of the original prison personnel and barked another order.
“You! You’re a Lieutenant, right? Good! Take Captain Dawson here and his men to the Armory!”
“Yes sir!”
At this point, there was nothing Captain Dawson could do other than obey, and obey he did. The man gave the Warden a salute before turning and barking some orders at his men, who quickly divided into two parts. Half a dozen of them returned to the ship to keep watch over it. The rest followed the Captain and the Lieutenant as they marched into the facility. Many of them were confused by how rapidly the situation changed, but they all kept their doubts to themselves.
As the Captain and his crew were gone and only Disciples could see him, Warden Locke allowed himself a small grin. These crew would enter the prison as loyal Imperial soldiers at the service of Count Lamb. By the time they leave, they would be fierce Disciples of Alexander Wolf, willing to give their lives for him...not that they had a choice. Just like he never really got a choice.
The Warden’s grin disappeared and he sighed. It was too late to think about that now. He had been made into an Apostle of Agony, and despite not knowing what sort of black magic this was, he knew very well that he could no longer get out of this pact. Ever. In that case, the only thing he could do was help Alexander, his Lord, get as far as possible. That was the only way to save both himself and his family.
Even as those thoughts flashed across his mind, the Warden was silently communicating with Alexander, Cara, and the other Disciples in the psychic network. Cara and the others were made aware that the Captain and his men had walked into the trap, and they were ready.
As for the Warden...the man turned to the ship. There were still a few dozen men and women on the ship, although only a few of them were armed. Still, they had to be taken care of before they heard the screams of their comrades and tried to flee the island.
Once again, he knew exactly how to deal with them.