by J. N. Chaney
Most of the barracks bunked at least a dozen or more crew members and only a very few had personal quarters. Units like ours received a little special treatment due to the nature of our assignments, plus the amount of gear we had. One of the perks was not having to share space with other teams. Navari shacked up with another commander while Mateo and Haas bunked together with two other male spec operatives.
Sophie and I were the only two enlisted women in elite teams aboard the Ambiana, which allowed us to share a tiny slice of heaven. We dumped our stuff, what little we had, and headed to the mess hall to meet Mateo.
It was busy with the breakfast crowd, but he’d managed to snag a table already. Sophie and I got in line for our rations—a thick, off-white sludge being dispensed from tubes that snaked out of sight to wherever the kitchen filled them.
The display declared the mixture to be “bakhana nut oatmeal” flavor, but I had my doubts. Bakhana was a sweet, plump, neon yellow fruit, and one I usually enjoyed. This looked nothing like the fruit it was masquerading as.
“You want to grab some coffee?” asked Sophie, nodding toward one of the grubby, beat-up machines on the other side of the room.
“I’d rather keep my stomach lining if you don’t mind,” I snorted in disgust. Sarkon had a habit of cheaping out on many things and coffee was no exception. If they didn’t water it down to something completely unrecognizable, they’d burn the shit out of it.
“Suit yourself,” said Sophie, shrugging. “I need a pick-me-up if I’m going to go home.”
Back at the table, I sat across from Mateo and wrinkled my nose at Sophie as she sipped.
“What?” she asked, shrugging.
“Unlike most of the poor souls here, I’ve had good coffee before,” I replied, taking a soggy bite of the slop in my bowl.
“And where has that gotten you?” Mateo laughed. “It’s ruined you for all other coffee.”
I groaned. “Please, don’t lump that”—I jabbed a finger at Sophie’s cup—“in with coffee. That’s something else entirely.”
“Coffee is coffee. Even when it’s bad it’s good. I don’t know how you go without.”
I shrugged. “Even when it’s great I still don’t get it. You can get a jolt just as easily from one of the enerdrinks and they taste better.”
She drained the cup in response, then made a face. “You might be right,” she said, stealing my water.
I stood up a little and performed a mock bow. Sophie laughed but Mat was watching one of the cracked holo screens near our table and I turned my attention to it. A Sarkonian reporter was addressing the audience, speaking in a disapproving tone.
“Neblinar, a small planet that served as a way station at the very edge of the Deadlands, is growing out of control. Inexplicably, more than half the population has deserted the colony overnight, leaving it vulnerable.”
The feed shot to a view of the surface, where fights had erupted in the streets and showed military police struggling to gain control.
“The residents that remain are known criminals. The government has decided to pull out of the planet and withdraw any further support. All Sarkonians are ordered to avoid Neblinar, as it is now a haven for illegal activity.”
“I went there once,” said Sophie, who had started watching the feed too.
“Really? Was it anything like that?” I asked, nodding at the image on the screen.
“No, it was nice actually. The transport ship we were on stopped there to refuel. Kind of a shame. I wonder where the missing people are, though.”
I was about to ask her something else when the reporter started talking about more disappearing colonists. The words caught all of our attention and we started watching the holo again.
“Sarkon has claimed more territory in the Deadlands. The previously Union-controlled space is proving an easy acquisition as more and more stations are being abandoned,” continued the reporter.
“How does half a colony disappear in one day?” Mateo wondered.
Sophie just shrugged and I didn’t answer so he fell silent as the broadcast continued.
Because of my own experiences, I never liked hearing about Sarkon’s acquisitions. It reminded me of my past and I knew firsthand how cruel the Empire could be. Sophie and Mateo were my friends and they cared about me, but they didn’t know what it felt like to lose everything and everyone that mattered to them.
Sophie in particular shared my views about how Sarkon claimed planets and conscripted the remaining population, but it was more of a charity case for her. Mateo cared less, but more than the average Sarkonian.
I hid my discomfort at the news and focused on the report again.
“The Union has reached an agreement with Sarkon and will be relinquishing White Cross. It’s unclear what will be given in exchange for this, but the Emperor has stated that mining of N02-99 will resume, creating thousands of new jobs. Details will follow as soon as that information has been released.”
The three of us sat there in stunned silence. White Cross had been taken by the Union long ago. Whatever we were giving them for it must be big. I thought again of our shiny new Union ship and wondered what our government could possibly offer the enemy in order to get such an asset from them.
I recalled how strange Navari had been today, the presence of Vice-Admiral-Kaska at the debrief, and the disappearing colonists. Could it all be connected? It seemed unlikely that any of that could have anything to do with White Cross but the whole thing seemed odd.
Something was off and I wanted to know what, but Navari wasn’t someone to cross. Like Sophie had said, I needed to be careful or I’d find myself in a lot of trouble. Elite or not, I was a very tiny cog in a fairly big machine.
Shaking it off, I changed the subject, asking my teammates about their leave plans.
“I figure I’ll take some time to go see my lady,” said Mateo.
“Which one is this again?” I teased, ignoring the small twinge of jealousy that pricked at the mention of his love life. It was my own fault after all, since I was the one who had said we should stay friends.
He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Her name is Amie.”
Sophie chimed in about her trip home to see her parents, but I only listened with one ear.
In the back of my mind I kept seeing Navari and the Vice-Admiral in the unusual meeting.
4
For my leave, I decided to stay on the Ambiana. It was better than going to my parents’ house, where I would be treated with stiff politeness until I wanted to rip my hair out. Added to that, my mother would probably try to pair me with an eligible bachelor or my father would introduce me to one of his suitors. No thank you, I’d rather be thrown out an airlock with no suit.
I avoided the place at all costs, even going so far to take volunteer jobs around the ship that no one wanted so I could say I was working. In fact, I could count on one hand the amount of times I’d gone home since graduating from the academy and had no plans to start counting on my other hand.
“You realize that you have to be back in three standard days, right?” I said, watching Sophie wad up clothes and jam them into a small case in our quarters.
She turned to roll her eyes at me, then stuffed another pair of boots into the already overloaded luggage.
“I just need a bigger case,” she grunted, pushing down on it to get it closed. “The offer still stands if you want to come home with me. My parents aren’t scared of you anymore.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. It went like this every time. Sophie would invite me home and I always declined. Her parents were nice, which was probably where she got it from, but they’d always been wary of me. I think they worried that I would corrupt their daughter, and they knew what I did for a living.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” I promised, forcing myself to relax and not rush her out the door onto the next transport. Sophie might have been my best friend, but I also relished my solitude.
; “I know you will. It just can’t be good to stay here all the time.” The case finally closed, and Sophie pulled it off the bed. It hit the floor with an audible thud, and she did a slow turn, scanning the room.
“It’s in there,” I said, jerking my thumb in the direction of the bathroom.
“What is?” she asked, furrowing her brow and taking a step toward it.
“The bathroom sink,” I snickered.
“You’re hilarious,” Sophie said sarcastically, stopping mid-stride. Her wrist unit beeped, drawing her attention, and she swiped to read the alert. “Gotta go, transport’s leaving in thirty.”
“Want me to walk with you?” I asked.
“No, that’s okay,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s bound to be packed and you hate the crowds.”
I smirked. “This is why we’re friends. You know me so well.”
We said a quick goodbye and she was out the door. I’d seen vids before where people hugged each other farewell but had never done it. Touchy feely wasn’t my or the Sarkonian way and it was one of the few culture norms that I liked.
Once the door slid down behind her, I glanced around the tiny space, trying to decide what to do next. The room itself wasn’t anything special, and at barely three meters wide, hardly big enough for the two of us.
Two beds took up one wall, bunk-style, while a small work station sat opposite. A sort of shelf had been constructed next to the desk to hold our gear trunks. Behind the only door other than the entrance lay what I imagined to be the universe’s smallest bathroom.
The toilet was mere centimeters from being inside the shower, which happened to be where the sink was situated. Not that I was complaining. It sure beat the hell out of the shared barrack’s facilities. And my parents’ house back on the Sarkonian Empire’s capital world, but that was for other reasons. Terrible home atmosphere aside, the facilities there were actually quite nice.
A chime sounded from my personal pad and I opened the notification to find a message from the armory. My repairs were done, along with a reminder to pay before pickup. The attached invoice showed I’d been pretty close in my estimation and I heaved a resigned sigh.
When the screen prompted me to choose a payment account, I briefly considered using the allowance fund my father had set up for incidentals in academy. He wouldn’t question such a charge if he even noticed it at all. I almost laughed out loud at myself. Of course, he would notice, and I would owe him something for it. I’d learned long ago that nothing came for free.
In the end I used my savings, grimacing before moving the funds over. I paid extra for delivery, which arrived promptly, and spent the rest of the night cleaning and polishing my gear until it gleamed.
After storing it all carefully in the trunk, I opted for sleep. My body still ached in places and I wanted to empty my mind for a little while.
I crawled into my bunk and was asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow.
With no duties for the next couple of days, I spent my extra time training. The encounter with the Union guard had left a bad taste in my mouth, so I used the footage from our suits’ feed to create a fight simulation.
I ran the sequence a few times and won each match. The woman had been skilled but was hardly my equal. Heat tinged my cheeks at the shame of near failure. She’d taken me by surprise, but instead of shooting her, I’d engaged in hand to hand.
My lack of skill wasn’t the problem, I realized. It was my mentality. An internal desire to avoid killing her had distracted me.
Maybe Sophie was right and I had chosen the wrong line of work.
No, I thought to myself, the alternative would be much worse. I’d served in the Sarkonian infantry ranks for four long years before joining the unit and would desert before going back.
Guilt clutched at my gut as memories that I usually kept buried returned. Memories of myself helping the Empire to claim more territory, separating families, and laying waste to what remained.
Why was this surfacing now? I had to find a way to shut these… emotions off before I second guessed myself in the field and got killed.
The message from my father and remembering my abduction from Spiro must have gotten into my head more than I’d realized.
Sarkon had made me the very thing I hated. Sophie would tell me that I didn’t have a choice, that going against the Sarkonian Empire was a death wish. And she might be right about that, but there was always a choice.
Unable to shake the dark cloud that had settled over me, I shut down the simulation and left the training room. After a cold shower and quick lunch, I went to my favorite part of the ship to blow off some steam: the range.
I started with the shotgun, pumping round after round of live ammunition into the holotarget. At first, I barely aimed, just squeezed the trigger and savored the recoil of the stock punching into my shoulder. I let the anger out, one bullet at a time.
The tension began to ease after a few dozen shots and I set the weapon down, selecting a rifle.
I’d just selected holo laser fire when an alert sounded in my ear protection prompting me to check the mounted screen. Someone in the range was hailing me. Curious, I checked the message. My heart skipped involuntarily when I saw that it was from Mateo.
Up for a little competition? I’m a few booths down.
I wanted to ask what he was doing here but that could wait.
Sure, I typed back. But I’m picking the sim.
He agreed and I sent the challenge request for my favorite simulation. The sequence changed periodically so users couldn’t memorize the order, but I liked it because the enemy was depicted as fictitious aliens.
I emptied my mind of everything but the targets as the first one appeared. It felt good to have a goal and I moved through the program in record time, finishing a few seconds before Mateo. When I checked the scores, I had to rerun them because mine was ahead of his.
Swiping through our targets, I compared the shots side by side. His clusters were almost all perfect and formed an upside-down triangle. His groupings had strayed from the marked targets on his last two aliens, giving me the win.
Elated, I messaged him to say I’d meet him outside and packed up my gear. I’d never beaten the man in a weapons sim, ever, and I couldn’t wait to gloat.
“You’ve improved,” he said when I exited the firing range, leaning one shoulder on the wall next to the viewing pane.
“Just picking up your slack,” I teased, not bothering to sound humble. “What are you doing here anyway? Leave isn’t up until tomorrow.”
“Came back early. Nothing worth sticking around for,” he said without looking me in the eye.
I turned a suspicious eye on him. “Amie probably wouldn’t take kindly to that comment,” I said, referring to his girlfriend, going for subtle and failing.
Our on-again, off-again casual relationship might not have been the healthiest decision, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hopeful he’d broken things off with this last girl.
Fraternization within branches was not only allowed, but encouraged, so long as training had been completed and partners weren’t in the same units. We’d both agreed to keep it casual and had still managed to stay friends, unlike others who couldn’t keep their emotions on a leash. When the two of us ended up in the same spec ops team, we ended things.
Since then I’d had to watch a steady parade of his flings and pretend not to care.
Now he smiled at me, a mischievous glint coming into his eyes. My stomach did a little flop, but years of practice prevented any emotion from showing on my face.
“It wasn’t working out,” he said easily, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I went back to tell her that, which went about as well as you’d expect.”
“Sorry to hear that, Lieutenant,” I replied, careful to keep my tone even. His well-muscled arms were distracting me, so I moved toward the service desk to return the equipment I’d checked out.
I could almost feel his gaze on my back
and a slight shiver ran through me despite the relative warmth of the lobby. The fine hairs of my arms stood on end and I cursed internally at my body for betraying me.
The soldier manning the desk, a young woman that looked fresh out of the academy, barely spared me a glance as she scanned in my returns. With a bored look, she held out the biopad. It accepted my finger and lit green after a few seconds.
“Your logs have been updated,” she informed me.
With nothing left to do, I faced Mateo. He’d busied himself on his minipad and I let my gaze wander over him. Gods, he was attractive.
His casual black t-shirt wasn’t tight, but I could still see the definition in his shoulders and chest. At almost two meters, he was on the tall side and solidly built.
“Supposedly, the mess hall is serving burgers today for dinner,” I announced, stepping to his side.
He looked up, wrinkling his nose, and slid the pad into his pocket.
“Whenever they serve meat, I get concerned,” he said, opening the door for me.
“Rat population is down,” I agreed, moving past him and catching a whiff of his scent, a mix of fresh laundry and something else I couldn’t identify.
“Better not chance it. I brought some homemade rollitos and sweetbread, if you want to share.” His arm brushed mine, sending little sparks through me.
I swallowed hard at the thinly veiled invitation.
“I’ve got some beer stashed away in my quarters,” I said, deciding to hell with it.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you back at your place,” he said, then leaned in a little to say something in my ear. “You smell like gunpowder and berries. See you soon.”
Mat left in the early hours of the morning. That turned out to be a good thing because not long after, the door slid open and Sophie walked in.
I yawned and sat up, thankful I’d thrown on clothes when Mateo left.
“Well, good morning,” she said, a touch too peppy for the time of day. According to the clock on my pad, it was just after seven.
