Mutiny

This mercy rocket was Rawson's first command; and his last, it seemed—for mutineers had taken over, then lost the ship in a quicksand pool.
Captain Todd Rawson snapped angry eyes at the directional needle that indicated that his space ship the Star Flight was holding steady to her course like a bullet. He had ordered differently.
He was savagely kicking back his chair when the televisor leaped into life.
Calling the Star Flight , the control officer from Saturn intoned, Calling the Star Flight .
Rawson clicked a switch, continued to glare at the directional needle. Rawson— Star Flight . His voice was richly vibrant and charged with emotion. Running into spatial storm. Must detour to tangent to course. Will be late.
For God's sake! The voice from Saturn was urgent. The plague is wiping out the entire colony! Hurry!
We'll get the serum there! Out!
Rawson glanced once more at the unwavering needle of the direction indicator, and he switched off the televisor with such abrupt force that he broke off the dial. He tore from his desk and rumbled like a Jupiter avalanche across the vibrating deck of the Star Flight into the rocket room. Mr. Durk, I ordered the rockets reversed.
The crew men looked up, winking at each other. This was it!
Durk raised a short, blunt body like a Venusian alligator and lumbered to attention. His voice came in a hoarse growl.
The Old Man—you young punks think you know everything! The old man would 'a' headed right into the storm!
Captain Rawson flushed slightly and felt the tips of his ears turn hot as he stared at the man who was twenty years his senior—the man who had twenty-five years of experience in space flight.