by Linn Schwab
And when men, learned how to fly,
they set their sights far, above the sky.
And they sailed, across the stars,
until they came to, this world of ours.
All hearts beat with the miracle of life,
the miracle of life, the miracle of life.
All hearts beat with the miracle of life,
the miracle of life, the miracle of life.
There was si–lence in the air,
the seas were empty, the land was bare.
Then they sowed, the seeds of life,
until the planet, became alive.
All hearts beat with the miracle of life,
the miracle of life, the miracle of life.
All hearts beat with the miracle of life,
the miracle of life, the miracle of life.
Now the land, is rich and green,
and countless life forms, patrol the seas.
And the air, is filled with sound,
the songs of nature, are all around.
All hearts beat with the miracle of life,
the miracle of life, the miracle of life.
All hearts beat with the miracle of life,
the miracle of life, the miracle of life.
When the song ended, silence enveloped the cabin again. The girls stared blankly at the video screens, which currently showed only the blackness of space and the scattered shimmering of distant stars. As Robin gazed at one of the displays, unsettling thoughts crept into her mind. She recalled the subject of some late–night conversations the girls had engaged in back at the academy: What would it be like to die in outer space?
It was a question the girls had often pondered together. Yet although they each possessed a strong working knowledge of science, the answer was something they could only speculate at. How much would it hurt? How long would it take? Those were the questions on every girl’s mind. But beyond those questions, they weren’t even certain which element of exposure would ultimately kill them. The line which had always been passed down from older classes was that depressurization would be the quick killer. But would it? Or would it be asphyxiation? Or perhaps extreme temperature? Even the archives couldn’t provide them with an answer. But there was one thing all of them were keenly aware of: exposure meant death … in no uncertain terms.
Robin shuddered. We’re so helpless, she thought as she scrutinized the details of the shuttle’s interior. This shuttle is like a bubble in the middle of space, and if our bubble bursts, we’re all going to die. We can’t run, or swim, or jump back to safety. We’re so far away from any safe haven.
The journey to Volaris seemed to last an eternity. The cabin remained silent for much of the flight as each girl wrestled in private with her fears. In reality, the trip lasted just a few hours, but it took a heavy emotional toll on them, straining their nerves and sapping their spirit. When the shuttle began to slow without warning, all eyes focused on the cabin’s display screens. Each girl strained to catch a glimpse of the station — the sanctuary they now yearned so impatiently to reach.
The dark gray armored plating of Volaris was intentionally difficult to spot from a distance. Pockets of light shining out from the station’s many portals were the first visible indications of its presence and shape. As the shuttle drew nearer to the free — floating structure, the size of Volaris remained difficult to fathom. But when the outer doors of the hangar deck’s airlock slid open, the station’s true dimensions were finally betrayed.
“Wow!” Robin exclaimed, gazing in awe at the expanse of weathered metal plating. The station’s timeworn, battered appearance did little to detract from its staggering dimensions. It was by far the largest structure the girls had ever seen, dwarfing even the academy building.
“Just think,” Robin said in amazement, “we have more than seventy of these!”
The other girls remained silent, transfixed in contemplation. It was the first time they’d gotten any real perspective on just how massive the war effort really was.
Mindy’s eyes remained focused on the monitor’s display, taking in every detail that appeared on the screen. The shuttle eased through the gap between the station’s outer doors, bringing the interior of the hangar’s airlock into view. Gray painted steel walls were the first things she noticed, spattered with a jumble of mechanical components: relays, switches, hydraulic lines. It was a bleak picture in comparison to the beauty of Valhalla, and an ominous precursor of what was to come.
The shuttle paused briefly inside the airlock, then taxied forward into the station’s interior. It rolled to a stop near the center of the hangar and shuddered as it settled on its landing gear.
A few seconds after the engines fell silent, a boarding ramp slammed against the side of the shuttle and the door at the front of the cabin slid open. A slender woman in a black uniform dress stepped inside and introduced herself as “Major Maryanne Richards.”
“Welcome to Volaris,” the major said to them. She instructed them to follow her and stepped out of the cabin.
Robin stepped onto the top of the boarding ramp and attempted to take in the hangar’s details. Its vastness was its most remarkable feature. Other than that, it just seemed very empty. There were two shuttles currently parked in the hangar, and a scattering of fighters along the outer walls. The chamber itself was long and narrow, with a massive airlock at either end. It appeared to be the very heart of Volaris, stretching straight through the central core of the station. There were several access doors along the side walls, and supply containers stacked in various locations. Along the top of the two longest walls were darkened windows looking down from control rooms overhead. The floor of the hangar was solid concrete, and the walls all appeared to be made of steel plates.
Major Richards led the girls down the boarding ramp and out of the hangar through a large open bulkhead.
“This is the station’s ready room,” she explained, waiting patiently for the last few girls to enter from the hangar. “Our commanding officer will be here in a moment, so line up in order along the inner wall.”
The squads lined up in their customary order, with ECHO 8 at the right end and ECHO 5 at the left. It was something they had done every day for five years, and they could do it now in the blink of an eye.
“You can set your duffel bags down by your feet,” the major told them. She then stood in silence, awaiting the commander.
Robin studied the layout of the room. Gray walls, gray floors, worn by decades of continuous use. There were two doorways leading out of the room, and a bank of windows along the top of the opposite wall. There appeared to be a large room on the other side of the windows, but because it was at a higher elevation, there was little she could see in the way of details. She would later learn it was the station’s cafeteria, but for now it was just another room with gray walls.
“Good evening, Sentinels,” a pleasant voice filled the air. An elegant woman strolled into the room through a doorway that led to an adjacent chamber. She was dressed in a sleek black uniform, very similar to the one Major Richards was wearing. “Welcome to Volaris,” she continued. “I’m Commander Jeffries, the senior officer here. Major Richards is my second–in–command. We’ll try to make your stay here as pleasant as possible, but as you can already see, it’s a far cry from life on Valhalla.
“You girls will spend the next four years studying tactics, honing your skills, and performing services essential to the Sentinel Fleet. By the time you’re old enough to engage in combat, you’ll be fully prepared to do battle with the enemy. Our first objective will be to prepare you for your initial training missions. You’ll all have just thirteen days before you set off on your christening flights.”
The commander paused for a moment, allowing them some time to take in what she had said. “Major Richards is going to show you around now, and then it’ll be time for you to turn in for the night. You’ll begin your training schedule first thing in the morning, so make sure you all get plenty
of rest.”
With that, the commander walked out of the room, and Major Richards took over again. “Alright girls, grab your bags and follow me. This is going to be an informal tour, so feel free to ask any questions you like.”
Exiting the ready room, the group first entered a large corridor.
“Volaris is made up of many different levels,” the major explained, “and on every level, there are corridors exactly like these, connecting to all the different rooms on that level. As you’ll see, this station is considerably large, and there are thousands of meters of corridor here. If you find yourself feeling that you’ve gotten turned around, don’t panic. At every intersection and inside every room, you’ll find an intercom with a data display mounted on the wall. You can use those displays to call up any information you might need, including a detailed schematic of the station.”
The major continued walking as she spoke. “Volaris is more than just a training base. Like all of our sister stations, we serve several other functions as well, such as acting as a supply depot for Sentinel forces. At the moment, much of this station is dormant. There’s little threat of enemy activity in this sector, so we’re staffed with only a skeleton crew. Just enough to keep the station operational. But if we ever have to increase our presence here, Volaris can support more than eight thousand personnel.”
Mindy scarcely heard a word the major was saying. She followed along silently with the rest of the girls, gazing at the aging metal walls in despair. I don’t like this, she kept telling herself. I don’t want to live in this place.
Major Richards stopped near a large elevator and motioned for all of the girls to step inside. It was a tight fit, but all of them managed to squeeze in. “This is the hangar level,” she explained. “Most of the rooms on this level are linked to hangar operations. As for all of the levels below us, they contain storage and maintenance areas, and most of the station’s mechanical systems.” She followed the last girl onto the elevator and pressed the button for the next level up. The doors slid shut and the elevator began to rise.
“This is the cafeteria level,” she said, when the elevator came to a stop. “Most of the areas that will concern you are here. Sleeping quarters, classrooms, cafeteria, study areas. Those are where you’ll spend most of your time. The level above us contains the station’s control rooms. Above that, there are only auxiliary decks. Communications and power apparatus, station defenses and so on. Nothing any of you should have to be concerned with.”
The tour went on for over forty minutes, and covered nearly a third of the base. When the girls were finally shown to their quarters, all of them were more than ready to sleep.
All four of the squads shared a common room which provided them with little in the way of privacy. One of the walls consisted of a large bank of windows which left the room exposed to the adjacent corridor. A total of twenty–eight bunks filled the room, lined up end to end in four rows of seven. There were hangers on the walls for their uniforms, and laundry facilities in the attached bath chamber.
Robin collapsed onto one of the bunks after tossing her duffel bag onto the floor. Michelle plopped down on the next bunk over, and pointed at the windows in the wall to her side.
“Well, this is a nice arrangement,” she said, peering disenchantedly into the corridor. “It makes me feel like I’m back in the nursery again.”
Robin glanced at the windows and said, “I just hope they dim the corridor lights when we’re sleeping.”
Phoebe sat down on a bed nearby and reached down to loosen the laces on her shoes. “I asked Major Richards about that,” she said. “The whole station goes dark for eight hours every day, except for the hangar and the control rooms.”
“That’s nice,” Robin said with a yawn, then closed her eyes and quickly faded off to sleep.
SISTERS 010
The station’s lights came up slowly in the morning. Phoebe had to shake Robin awake from her slumber. “Wake up, Robin,” she whispered insistently. “Our first assembly is in fifteen minutes.”
Robin groaned and sat up in her bed. She yawned and ran her hands down her body, frowning as the realization sank in that she’d fallen asleep in her uniform. Her vision was slow to adjust to the light. When she was finally able to focus, her eyes shot open in shock and surprise. Her whole squad was standing in front of her, already decked out in their new station uniforms.
“What do you think, Robin?” Katrina asked her, showing off the skirt of her dress with delight.
Robin gasped and jumped to her feet. In comparison to the academy’s plain blue and white scheme, the new uniforms were positively gorgeous. They were forest–green single piece dresses with short skirts and a spattering of decorative trim. Robin had carried hers throughout most of the previous day, but it had remained rolled up inside her duffel bag. Now that she knew what to expect, though, she couldn’t wait to see what it looked like on her. She snatched her duffel bag up from the floor and dashed straight into the bath chamber to change.
Robin smiled in satisfaction as she admired the fit of her new uniform. Her first proper dress. Her previous outfits had all screamed “little girl,” but this one finally declared her a young woman. Its lines drew attention to her feminine silhouette, drawing in tightly in just the right places. Here at last was a wrapping designed to accentuate her form, rather than just grudgingly acknowledge its existence. It was a moment of profound transformation for her. Like so many other aspects of her life, it had been thoughtfully conceived by some long ago quorum, and deliberately scripted to achieve a desired effect. The architects of Robin’s psyche may have been long forgotten, but their influence was still very much alive.
“Good morning, Sentinels,” Major Richards said as she entered the station’s fitness room. “You all look splendid in your new uniforms.” The girls were still beaming with enthusiasm. They were proudly standing at attention now, awaiting her instructions with cautious anticipation.
“From now on,” the major continued, “you’ll have fitness training twice a day. Once before breakfast and again just before lunch. Your workouts will consist of stretching exercises, resistance training, and a little something we call ‘battleship laps.’”
The girls looked at each other in confusion. Major Richards called their attention to a bright red line that was painted on the floor. The line stretched across the entire length of the room, through both exits and into the corridors beyond. “This line will lead you on a continuous circuit through the station, to several different levels and eventually back to this room. The idea is to complete the course as quickly as possible. Each completed circuit is one battleship lap. Let’s start out with two of them now.” She glanced to her right. ECHO 5 was the closest squad to the door. Katrina was standing at the end of the line. “What’s your name?” the major asked her.
“Katrina,” she responded.
“Katrina, you lead he way. Everyone else fall in behind her. Try to maintain a four second spacing between yourselves so you won’t get too bunched up at the ladders. Ready … go!”
Apprehensively, Katrina darted through the door. The other girls followed behind in single file. The red line led them along several corridors, then merged into the base of a wall and shot straight upward to the next level. Katrina stopped and looked up. A set of metal rungs formed a ladder of sorts, tracking up the wall through a hole in the ceiling. She grasped onto the rungs and climbed up the wall, emerging through a hole in the floor of the next deck. The red line veered off the wall and ran along the floor of the corridor again. She stretched her legs to step off from the ladder and struggled to get her feet moving again.
When the girls finally reentered the fitness room, they had climbed up and down along eight rung ladders and run through several hundred meters of corridor. Katrina staggered in at the head of the line and looked for a spot to collapse on the floor. “That’s one,” Major Richards reminded her. “You’ve still got one more to go.”
Katrina lowered her head in
dismay and forced her weary muscles to carry her onward. “That one took twelve and a half minutes,” the major called after her. “You should be able to do them in six and half.”
Katrina shook her head in disbelief. Six and a half minutes? That’s impossible! After one lap, she could barely even stay on her feet. Pushing herself onward, she plodded along the course, stumbling and straining on each rung of every ladder. Finally, after what seemed like hours of torture, she limped back into the fitness room, dropped to her knees and crawled across the floor. Exhausted and gasping for breath, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. I’m not going to die out in space, she told herself. I’m going to die right here on Volaris!
Several minutes passed before all of the girls returned. Major Richards gave them some time to catch their breath. “Twelve and a half minutes for the first one,” she said, “and twenty minutes plus for the second. I hope you girls weren’t planning on breakfast. You’re going to be late for your first class period.”
Commander Jeffries was waiting for them. She stood near a desk at the front of the class room, waiting patiently for all of the girls to file in. Robin checked the clock as she slipped into her seat: 8:02. As Major Richards had predicted, they were all late.
“Good morning, Sentinels,” Commander Jeffries said. Robin was certain she would berate them for being late, but instead, she delved right into her lecture. “I’m going to be your instructor for this period. This session will last for four hours, and then you’ll report to your pre–lunch workout.
“As I said before, the focus of your first two weeks here will be to prepare you for your christening flights. You’ll be engaging heavily in navigational studies and learning how to operate your ships’ vital systems. The vessels you’ll be learning on are front line destroyers — actual warships we’ll be borrowing from the task force in this sector. Please keep this in mind when you’re operating them. These are extremely powerful vessels.
“To help prepare you for your first training missions, each of your squads will be assigned a sister squadron. These will be experienced fighter pilots, and it’ll be their responsibility to coach you along. You’ll select them randomly from the squadrons currently deployed in this sector — something we’ll take care of later on today.
