There was a small metal bench set against the wall by the door. Keira’s bag and gym towel lay upon it. Her shoes were set next to his boots. Beyond that, the room was bare of furniture.
Yield not, for I am strong. Chris had painted those words over the door in white paint.
“Since we’ve finally got a few days off,” Chris said, “we will put in more time at this. An extra hour or two each day should be good. If you apply yourself”—he gave a sick chuckle—“you might even make some progress. All that time in the field is taking your edge off.”
Keira almost groaned at the thought of more training. But in truth, she enjoyed their sparring and the training he offered, for it helped break up the tedium. Their sparring sessions were one of the few things in life she truly enjoyed. Sure, in the end, she would be sore, with more than a few bruises, but hand-to-hand was fun and always had been. Keira loved pushing herself to her limits and Chris clearly enjoyed taking her there.
“Are you ready for more punishment?” Chris asked, an eager look to his gaze. He took a couple of steps back from her to give her room. “Sometimes you have to get knocked down only to stand up again.”
It was a line she had not heard from him before. “Did you just make that up? I think you just did.”
“You’ll never know,” Chris said. “Are you gonna sit there and cry, or take some more punishment from a doddering old man?”
“Doddering my ass,” Keira said.
He held his hand out and made a beckoning motion.
“There’s no time like the present,” Keira said, stealing one of his favorite lines. “Let’s get started, then.”
Painfully, Keira pulled herself to her feet. He watched her with a relaxed, amused expression that she had always found infuriating. He was likely doing it on purpose, to goad her into anger, rashness. That was another lesson he had worked to teach her. Resisting the anger, she fell into a fighting stance. Determination to beat him stole over her. It was like a hunger she’d never been able to satisfy.
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Keira said to herself. That was another of his lines. “Let’s go again, Uncle.”
Chris grinned, then came forward, like an angry bull, on the attack and looking for blood. She blocked a kick with her arm. It hurt. She ignored the pain and lashed out at him with her right leg and connected with his thigh, a blow that had to have caused him some pain. Without pausing, or showing any sign of weakness, he punched a jab to her belly. It was Keira’s turn to grunt.
She danced back.
The blow had been powerfully delivered, and right where he had kicked her earlier. That too was likely on purpose. She was in good shape and her abdomen was hard as a rock. She took the pain. That was something he had also worked to teach her, how to take a hit.
“Come on, sweetheart. Stop playing with me. Show me what you’ve got.” He shot her a wink and motioned with his hand again for her to come at him. She was about to start forward when the door to the exercise room swung open. The hinges, as if in pain and in need of an oiling, screeched as metal ground on metal.
Lee stood framed in the doorway. He was nearly Keira’s age, twenty-four, but was shorter by about six centimeters. He had cropped black hair and a rugged, honest face with dark eyes. He was wearing his blue-green hazard suit, a sure sign they were heading out on another repair job. The suit’s helmet hung from a hook behind his neck.
“Don’t tell me we have a mission.” Keira was breathing heavily. “I don’t want to hear that. We just got in last night.” She waved a hand in Chris’s direction. “Besides, I was just about to teach this old man a lesson, one that’s been coming for a good long while.”
“Keira,” Lee drawled, “I have been watching you two spar and train for longer than I can remember. I seriously doubt if you will ever be able to teach him a lesson. He’s one of the last Imperial Marines, a veritable dinosaur. You know they eat people like us for breakfast.”
Chris grunted at that. “Crayons too.” He suddenly looked over at Lee. “Hey, who are you calling a dinosaur?”
“It just means I have to try harder.” Keira said. “Given time, even the mightiest fall.”
“Not likely,” Chris said. “Old gunnies like me only get ornery with age. I thought you’d have figured that out by now.” He looked back at Lee. “She’s not too bright, is she?”
Lee gave a shrug of his shoulders, then grew serious. “There’s a water purification system down at the Hakagi Tower. A third of the units have lost fresh water. Command wants us rolling as soon as our escort arrives. They’re hoping to get us there before the next storm comes in.”
“Are you kidding me? Hakagi? We just got back in last night,” Keira said. “We were out in the field for more than two weeks. We’re entitled to some downtime.”
“Yeah?” Lee asked. “So?”
“There’s been some trouble with Hakagi Tower,” Chris said. “Command doesn’t want to see more unrest. At least, they said so in the last security brief I received. As you know, they’re dealing with enough around the planet. Hakagi’s been given priority for attention and support. They’re kind of trying to nip it in the bud.”
“Can that even be done?” Lee asked sarcastically, then continued before Chris could answer. “I checked with assignments. The survey crew felt the job needed a senior team. It may be a systems issue, or it might be mechanical in nature. They couldn’t tell. We’re gonna have to figure it out when we get there. Command’s sending us because we’re the best they’ve got.”
“More likely we’re the only available team,” Keira said, grumpily, “and the closest with free time on their hands.”
“Yeah,” Lee said, “that too.”
Disappointed, Keira could only nod, giving in to the inevitable. She already knew there was no point in arguing. The work they did saved lives. It all came down to that. A complete failure of the water purification system could mean the death of thousands of people if it could not be restored, for the water of the planet had become poisoned and there were no other readily available sources.
“How long do we have?” Keira asked, guessing that, since he was already wearing his hazard suit, it wouldn’t be long. He would need at least half an hour to power up their transport and perform a system check. Most of the tools and equipment was already loaded.
“Ah hour, maybe more,” Lee said. “Our escort is already on their way out from the city. As I said, Command wants us to get a move on.”
“Did they say who they’re sending?” Chris asked. “Militia or the local security police?”
“Militia this time,” Lee said, “a full company, two platoons.”
“Hakagi’s gotten dangerous,” Chris said, looking between them. “There’s been some talk of sending the regulators out with the senior teams if things get worse.”
“Regulators?” Keira felt a sour taste in her mouth. “Like Crecee’s boys and girls?”
“Yeah,” Chris said.
“That’s like using a hammer when a screwdriver is needed,” Keira said, “and the locals don’t much like the regulators to begin with.”
“Like has nothing to do with it,” Chris said. “They are better trained and equipped. We may not like their methods, but if push comes to shove, the locals will think twice before messing with them.”
“That’s because the regulators don’t care who they kill,” Lee said.
“The government usually sends them in when they want an example made,” Chris said. “Ash is teetering on a razor’s edge. If things go the wrong way, the majority of those left on the surface will die.”
“Is that why Crecee is here?” Keira asked Chris. When they had returned last evening, it had come as an unwelcome surprise to discover Captain Crecee and one of his platoons had set up shop at their base. “Is it time for another example?”
Crecee says they rotated down for some training dirtside,” Chris said. “He’d need his entire company if a serious operation was planned.”
Keira gave a nod, hoping Chris was right. She had heard about the examples the Unified Planetary Government occasionally made. Everyone had. Civilians rounded up and shot. She’d never seen it happen and a part of her hoped it was all rumor, but, deep down, she knew it wasn’t. There was some truth in the stories they’d all heard.
“Would the marines have made examples, like the regulators?” Lee asked. “Back when the empire was in charge?”
“No, we never did anything like that,” Chris said firmly. “I never did anything like that. Our job was to protect those who could not help themselves, and I was damn proud to do it.”
There was a long moment of silence after that.
“Well, hopefully, this militia company will be better than the last bunch,” Lee said. “Oh, assignments also sent along their security assessment on the area. I’ve taken the liberty of downloading it, along with the latest briefs, to our tablets.”
Chris gave a nod. “I guess we’re done for the day, then.”
“I was looking forward to some arms training.” Keira glanced down at the exercise mat, then back at Chris, perking up. “Perhaps we can find a place to do it out in the field. I could stand to pop off a few rounds, if you’re up for it?”
“I think I can manage that. I’ll bring some extra ammo and targets,” Chris said as he moved over to his boots and began putting them on.
Keira turned her gaze to Lee. “When did you last go to the range?”
“I dunno,” Lee said, “before our last time out? Say three or four weeks ago. Heck, Keira, we’re engineers, glorified repair techs, not marines like Chris here. Besides, I’ve already qualified with small arms for the year. I don’t need to go through that again for at least another eight months.”
“Qualifying is one thing,” Chris said as he laced up his boots, “being proficient and staying that way is something else. That takes practice, son. Best get some in.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lee said, waving a hand. “You know, I don’t even like guns.”
“That has nothing to do with practicing,” Chris said. “You don’t have to like one to be good at using it.”
“Uh huh,” Lee said.
“Right then.” Keira rubbed the back of her neck. “You said an hour?”
Lee gave a nod. “The Beast is pretty much loaded. We did that last night when we came in.”
“That gives me time for one last shower, at any rate,” Keira said. Her workout with Chris had left her sweaty and feeling dirty. Disgustingly, he looked barely winded, with no hint of sweat.
“You need it.” Chris sniffed at the air before starting for the door. Lee moved aside for him. Hand on the frame, the old marine stopped and looked back. “Keira, make sure you stop by the mess. They’ve shipped down meatballs and spaghetti from the station. Get us some. I don’t want to miss out.”
Keira nodded. That was an unexpected treat. “I’ll see if Syles will give us some extra. Can’t have the regulators eating it all.”
“Right then, I will see you at the transport.” He gave her another wink. “Enjoy your shower, butterfly.”
Keira had just slipped on her shoes and reached for her gym towel and bag, which she had left on the bench. She shot him a murderous scowl, but he had already turned and left. Instead, she retrieved the towel and wiped the sweat from her face.
“You do stink,” Lee said, making a show of sniffing at the air. “Better hurry up with that shower, butterfly.”
“Don’t you start too.” Keira pointed a finger at him and then strode past, bag in hand and towel thrown over her shoulder, out into the hallway beyond.
The hallway was long, dingy, and like the rest of the forward operating base, had a run-down, tired feel. Several of the overhead lights had been clumsily mounted in the ceiling. Whoever had done the work had not taken the time to do it right, or more likely, over the long years they had been repaired by someone else who had done a half-assed job.
The lighting flickered continually, almost strobing. They also gave off a low buzzing sound that she found annoying in the extreme. Numerous scuff marks from ages past stained the walls and floor. The paint along the walls was chipped and in some places peeling. In short, it was depressing.
Like much of the rest of the planet, Sterris Base, named after someone long dead, was just wasting away. The structure had originally been intended to be a temporary base of operations and had been slapped quickly together. But it, like so many other structures across the planet, had become a permanent fixture by necessity alone.
Leaving Lee behind, she started down the hallway, toward her quarters. Keira sensed Lee watching her before he himself turned and went the other way. She could hear the boots of his hazard suit clunking on the metal. He was likely headed for the vehicle park to prep their transport for the long ride into the city. The armored personnel carrier was his baby, his pride and joy. He was constantly tinkering with it.
Keira’s home at the base was a small room that would have been generous in a prison, or so Chris had told her. She had never seen a prison and really had no basis to compare. So she took his word for it. The Unified Planetary Government, or UPG as everyone called it, had only one punishment for almost all crimes: the death penalty.
Planetside, there usually weren’t even trials. The UPG had no resources to waste on maintaining prisoners, for life on Asherho after the rebellion was cheap, and that, on most days, was an understatement.
Her room was only six doors down and a short walk. She palmed the keypad scanner. The locking mechanism beeped as it registered her biometrics, and then gave a solid-sounding clunk as the lock retracted. She tugged on the handle and opened the metal door. Triggered by motion sensors, the lights flickered before fully illuminating as she stepped inside.
Unlike the rest of the base, the room was clean and orderly, measuring three meters by four and a half. It was simple, plain, four metal walls and without a window. There was none of the persistent dust that got into everything, or even a speck of dirt anywhere in sight. Keira would not have tolerated it. Her father and Chris had taught her better, shown her the pleasure, or really the pride, in cleanliness.
When they had rotated in four months before, she had scrubbed her new quarters from floor to ceiling, doing her best to remove the years of grime and grit that had accumulated from the previous occupants. It was apparent at first glance, whoever they had been, they had not much cared where they laid their heads.
Chris had somehow managed to find, or more likely steal, some light gray paint. He would never have called it stealing—acquiring was his preferred term. With his help, she had done a fair job at painting her quarters.
She’d also repaired and reconfigured the interior lights and sensors. It had allowed her to dim the lighting as needed and helped to create a relaxing, almost soothing environment. At times, it helped her forget the hellhole in which she lived and worked.
A few months back, on a trip out and into the ruins of the nearest town, she had found a pair of discarded speakers in the rubble of an old multi-story building, which had long since collapsed in upon itself. There had been a basement, and somehow it had survived the collapse of the structure overhead. She had managed to worm her way down a hole and into the cavity. Lee had gone with her.
They had found several useful items down there. But for Keira, the speakers had been a magnificent discovery. She had repaired them, and Chris had found an audio file with nature sounds, which included rain, waves, wind blowing through trees, chimes, and even strange animal sounds that were oddly soothing. The animals made a sort of chirping. He had called them birds and shown her pictures of the small animals. Nothing like them lived on Asherho, not anymore.
She had never seen rain with her own eyes or, for that matter, an ocean. Keira could only image what experiencing that would be like. She had only ever seen pictures or old-time, pre-war vids. Still, she found the sounds relaxing. They helped her meditate and find her center.
Before his death, Keira’s fat
her had taught her the art and value of deep mediation. It was one of the last gifts he had given her. Each time she meditated, her thoughts initially went to him and all that she had lost with his death. Keira did not remember her mother, who had passed long before they had come to Asherho in the troubles that led up to the rebellion.
Keira glanced around her tight quarters. With the meager decorations she had brought down from the orbital station, the end result of her work had proven to be a serious improvement over what she’d been given when they had arrived.
There was a cot for a bed. She had brought sheets and a blanket with her. Despite being hard and somewhat uncomfortable, the cot was better than sleeping on the floor. Working planetside, Keira had done enough of that while out in the field. A neatly folded synthetic blanket lay on the cot. That she had found in the ruins too, in what had once been a shop of some kind. It had been vacuum-sealed and wrapped in the original plastic covering and, when she’d pulled it out, had been as good as new.
The room contained a small, battered metal dresser to hold the clothing, which she called her own. Someone had long ago welded the dresser together in a slap-dash sort of way, likely when the base had been constructed. She had sanded and painted the dresser too, for it had been beginning to rust. Dented and battered, it now almost looked presentable.
She had a small folding table that acted as a makeshift desk. An unlit scented candle sat on top. The table wobbled slightly, as the legs were uneven, but it was better than no desk at all. She had even mounted a series of hooks on the walls with bonding paste, one for her hazard suit, another for the helmet that went with it, and one for a shower towel.
Keira dropped her bag and gym towel on the dresser. Grabbing the towel from the hook, her toiletry bag from a drawer in the dresser, and a fresh jumpsuit, she stepped back out into the hallway. She made sure to close and lock the door before moving down the hall toward the communal showers. She had gone to great lengths to accumulate her few meager possessions and did not want to lose them to carelessness, for no one, even her colleagues, could be trusted dirtside.
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