I'm thinking about reworking this section. Maybe go back and start with the actual conversation between Spalding and the Imperial Engineer.
Not really sure. Let me know, especially as you come across the next section with Spalding. I'm not sure the voice is right on this.
He was the very model of a modern outdated Space Engineer:
Earlier:
Engineering Officer Terrence Spalding nodded his head dutifully and saluted to acknowledge the new orders from the Imperial Chief Engineer. He then turned with dignity and - without warning - leapt out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him and activating the manual locking mechanism. Glancing around wildly he caught sight of an Able Spacehand named Gants.
Pointing to the machinist shop he yelled, “Gants find me a plasma torch from the shop and bring it here on the double quick.” When Gants looked at him with wide eyed, Spalding Roared, “Move it, Spacehand!”
Gants scrambled to obey.
Turning back to the control panel, the Engineering officer initiated a class II chemical contamination lock down. He breathed a sigh of relief when the computer accepted the code and temporarily locked down the room.
Gants came running back with the torch and the Engineer immediately began welding the door shut. When he’d done enough to ensure the Imperial Officer was trapped inside, he turned to Gants. “Good lad, Gants,” Said the grey bearded Engineer, clapping him on the shoulder and struggling to slow his breathing. “You may have just helped save the ship.”
Gants eyes widened and his head reared back. “Sir?” he sounded shocked. “What’s going on?”
“Never you mind all that, lad. Never you mind. Just rest assured, Engineer Spalding’s got everything well in hand. Together we’ll save this blasted ship yet,” he said, a wild look in his eye as he indicated the door they’d just welded shut.
Gants nodded weakly and then uneasily glanced at the welded door. “If I can ask, sir?”
“No time. No time at all for that, Gants,” the engineer said decisively. “No. You just run along and hop into that old suit of powered armor I’ve been having the lads refurbish as a surprise for the little admiral.” He winked, but Gants was visibly shaken. Irritated, Engineer Spalding barked “Now run along Able Spacehand. As soon as you’re suited up, join the rest of us in main engineering. I’m putting out the summons for everyone not currently locked down to get over there for a meeting. We’ve got a bloody ship to save!”
Non-regulation length hair flaring out to either side of his head he turned, to activate the overhead comm system. “All engineering personnel are to gather in Main Engineering. Repeat all engineering personnel are to gather in main engineering as soon as possible for an important announcement.” The Engineer nodded fiercely to himself and headed for main engineering at a run, pausing only to grab a pry bar to complement his still smoking plasma torch,
When Spalding reached main engineering there were only a few imperial space hands in sight, which was predictable since most of the engineering crew was Caprian born.
Ignoring the questions shooting at him from all sides, Spalding went to the largest open area on the engineering deck and then used the plasma torch to draw a quick line down the middle of the floor. Pausing to look at the engineering crew on the catwalk gazing down at him as if he were crazy, he shook his crowbar at them.
“Get down here,” barked to old grey bearded engineer, pointing with the crowbar at the line he’d just burned into the deck. “Everyone not doing something critical to ship operations, stop whatever you’re doing and get down here on the double,” he yelled, his eyebrows beetling fiercely.
When the current duty staff, as well as those few engineering crewmembers who’d started trickling in from outside main engineering reached the floor, he gave them a wild grin and motioned with his crowbar for everyone to go to one side of the line he’d just drawn. Then waving the plasma torch in the air to emphasize his points, he started speaking. “Every man who doesn’t love our fine ship Clover step across that line.” For a moment no one moved, and a few looked at him as if he’d just gone completely bonkers.
Furious, his glare swept the deck. “I said, everyman who loves the finest ship the Space Gods saw fit to bestow on mankind stay right where you bloody well are. The rest of you disloyal dogs let your mates know you’re plannin' to jump ship and cross that bleepin' line!” He activated the plasma and a great blue flame belched from the tip of the torch, obviously for effect. When still no one crossed the line (in fact, a few were actively backing away from both it and him as if the space between them were an active mine field) the Engineer gave a grunt of satisfaction.
Angrily he stomped up and down the line he’d just cut into the floor. “Looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way,” sighing he pointed to the Imperial crewmembers, “Lads, I don’t hold yer love of empire against ye,” he said, forcefully indicating they were to cross the line, with his crowbar. When they hesitated in the face of the visibly angry engineer, he indicated they were to move across the line with the active, hissing plasma torch.
After they’d scurried across the line (if only to avoid the active plasma torch), the Engineer’s eyes lit on a couple of new arrivals trying to sneak into the back of the main group and he scowled. “Spacehands Brence and Castwell! How good of you to join us so promptly. Why don’t you two troublemakers go join our imperial brethren on the other side of this here line.” The spacehands glanced at one another but in the face of the plasma torch wielding engineer didn’t hesitate for long before moving to comply.
“Alright,” said the engineer, his voice pitched to carry. “Anyone else who doesn’t love the Lucky Clover want to go join Brence and Castwell?”
Alarmed, Spacehand Brence began, “Sir, as the Maker is my witness I love this ship as much as the next man. I’ll just go join the rest of the crew, if that’s alright with you.” He started to move to the side with the other crewmembers from Capria.
“Hold your lazy, slacking tongue and stay right where you are, you poor excuse for an engineering rating,” snarled Spalding, pausing only to spit on the deck. “Of course you can say you love this ship as well as the next man because the man right next to you is that thieving, no good Castwell!”
“Sir, I never!” Castwell started indignantly.
“Don’t pretend I’m a fool who doesn’t know who it was that failed to reverse polarity on the aft beta node because he was too busy working on building himself a liquor still. Because it was that very same idjit what also tried to sell his fleet issued diagnostic tool to the crew of that poor shot up merchant ship them pirates mauled last month, and for a measly case of rot gut whiskey at that.” He scowled, unconsciously shaking his crowbar at the spacehand.
Before he could continue extolling the various misdeeds of the whiskey seeking spacehand, the main set of blast doors leading into main engineering cycled open and a pair of Imperial Jacks marched into the room closely followed by the Imperial Chief Engineer. The chief engineer’s lips were white and his face so red it was amazing steam wasn’t shooting out both ears.
As soon as he saw Spalding he motioned to the Imperial Soldiers. “Jacks clap that Officer in irons for falsely imprisoning a senior officer and disobeying a direct order!” He then swept the assembled engineering crew with an icy gaze. “The rest of you, I don’t know what this officer has told you…”
Engineer Spalding cut him off, spittle flying from his mouth, “I never disobeyed your illegal orders, although by all the space gods I was sorely tempted to. Instead, as ordered, I went and asked which ones of this crew wanted to leave their comrades in the lurch during a time of war and join with the Imperial members of this crew in jumping ship!” He stamped his feet to punctuate the final two words. “And as far as false imprisonment, that’s in no way worse than inciting the men and officers of this ship to abandon their posts, renounce their citizenship and go fight a war at the very moment their planet needs them the most!” Whatever else he’d been about to say was cut off as the Jacks seized him by the arms and picked him up off his feet, impotently flailing arms and all.
“Throw that senile old monkey, that poor, miserable excuse for an addled old space engineer in the brig. I’ve heard more than enough of his blather. More than I’d ever care to experience again, without seeking a blood drenched satisfaction,” the imperial chief engineer stated clearly and coldly and then waited until the still struggling engineer had been forcibly removed from the deck before continuing. He ignored the surprised exclamations coming from the engineering crew and the questions cut off when he turned to look at men gathered together on the deck.
“Now despite whatever that old relic had to say, I’m here to inform you that due to events outside of our control the Empire of Man needs every man willing to join battle fleet and help fight off the Gorgon menace. You can all rest assured that if they get through the Empire, they’ll be coming here next. And everyone, including that old fool, will die.”
There was some muttering among the spacehands at this information.
“In addition, any man who willingly signs on with the imperial fleet will automatically receive imperial citizenship, as soon as his tour of duty is completed. No one, I repeat no one, is being asked to give up their planetary citizenship at this time,” he said, shaking his head. “Finally all ranks will be equivilated without the usual two step downgrade in rank for a standard transfer from a system defense force to the Imperial fleet.” He paused and swept the crew with a confident gaze. “I’m here to enlist everyman willing. If you sign up with us you can do so knowing you’ll be getting yourself off this ancient bucket of bolts and onto a proper ‘first class’ warship, fighting to protect you and yours.”
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