"Shift Change"

[Cptn Elias Moore 0]

"SHIFT CHANGE DELTA!"

 

When the booming voice echoed through the corridors of the USS Defiant, the clockwork routine of the past eight hours shifted with remarkable suddenness. The MACO's came to complete halts on their standard patrol routes, almost on exactly the same spots they occupied when shift change occured twenty-four hours prior. They all turned and marched down the now memorized paths to the nearest turbolifts. At each corridor junction along the way, two or three would meet up and continue the march together, their steps perfectly synchronized, their gazes locked forward. These groups parted and hugged the walls to make way for the groups coming toward them (Beta Shift MACO's who would relieve them of patrol duty and Alpha Shift MACO's heading to the shuttle bays to relieve Beta Shift of fighter duty). No one was left behind when each group reached its respective turbolift, for they all realized that anyone left behind would be severely disciplined. The MACO's huddled into the lifts, and the second officers among each group stepped aside to pull the handle and designate one of the decks from three to six before stepping right back into formation. They all waited with absolute stillness until the turbolift doors opened. In perfect sync, they emerged onto the appropriate decks and continued their march. Two by two, the members of the groups turned and parted from their comrades at each of the doors they passed. Finally, only one of each group remained and he came face to face with the last remaining member of the group that had entered the corridor from the opposite direction. These two turned to the final door and stepped inside, leaving the corridor absolutely still and quiet.

 

Absolutely no alteration, down to the slightest details, from the standard that had been established by their superior officers. It was the daily routine of the Imperial Guard's Falcon Company, and it had been utterly perfected.

 

Colonel Asmodeus Hard was the one who'd perfected it. Falcon Company's commanding officer emerged from the central turbolift and stepped onto the Defiant Bridge to take over his sixteen-hour command shift. He was a tall man, though not a giant, he boasted an impressive physique, without being too bulky, and his face was an almost complete square under a neatly combed and parted mane of blonde hair. The face itself was no image of perfection, marred as it was by countless battle scars, but the scars aided his reputation as an extraordinary threat force. His command ability was focused in his deep black eyes. Few could meet Colonel Hard's piercing gaze for more than five seconds before flinching or looking away. He was as disciplined as a panther on the prowl, but this did not mean he was immune to anger. Anyone, foes and even subordinates, getting on his bad side would be introduced to fits of rage that had already resulted in the deaths of countless individuals, foes and even subordinates. He was a legend among the MACO's, an entire Imperial Guard company unto himself.

 

It was when he spoke that the problems arose.

 

"Lieutenant Connor." He directed a voice reminiscent of old film reel icon Mickey Mouse at the Delta Shift commander. The higher ranking of his men had gotten used to holding back their laughter at hearing the voice (at least until they were well out of his sight). But more than a few ill-prepared and poorly-disciplined Privates had been either ejected out of airlocks or broken at the spine for failing to control themselves. Hard did not pursue the military life until his late teens, and speculation was rampant (though whispered well out of the earshot of the officers) that the Colonel drove himself to be a killing machine to make up for his obvious verbal shortcoming.

 

"Sir!" Connor had lifted himself from the Captain's chair as soon as he heard the turbolift doors open. He saluted the Colonel. "All platoons have reported shift change without incident. I am prepared to relieve command of Defiant at your order."

 

"You are so relieved, Lieutenant." Hard answered, in his loud, though reedy voice. A brief snorting noise emerged from behind him, and both officers turned their attention to the turbolift. To the right side of the lift, a young Private standing guard had his hand cupped over his mouth. When he realized he was being watched, he quickly dropped his hand and returned it to his back, though the last vestige of a smile was clearly being forced off of his face.

 

With one smooth motion, Hard pulled his plasma pistol from its holster, pointed it at the Private's chest, and fired. The Private on the left side of the lift flinched and struggled to hold back a look of terror. Hard looked back at Connor. "Have that cleaned up. And request a replacement from headquarters. Dismissed!"

 

"Aye, sir." Connor saluted once more and crossed over to the lift, all too eager to get as far away from the Bridge as possible.

 

Hard took his seat at the center of the Bridge and flipped on the shipwide comm switch. "COMMENCE ALPHA SHIFT!"

 

Below decks, the corridor patrols picked up once again; outside the ship, the fighter crafts began their circling maneuvers; and within the safety of the crew quarters, pairs of Privates laughed openly at the comm.