The harsh bark of laughter reached her before she entered through the open door. The mess was a large room, filled with six long, rectangular tables that had the ability to fold and could be wheeled off when needed.
Through a side door, there was a small kitchen area. A cook, named Syles, had made the kitchen his personal domain. He worked hard at preparing three meals a day and setting out desserts, if they were available, as well as tea and coffee. He enjoyed his work, even though the term “cook,” when it came to Syles, was generous. He was also a non-native to Asherho.
Syles was a kindly old man who had worked at the base for years. He, like thousands of others, had been stranded on Asherho after the Fall. Keira was not exactly sure where he was originally from, only that he had once been a spacer and his skin was a darker shade.
In the mess itself, seven soldiers occupied a single table, playing a game of cards. All were regulators. Five were men and two were women. One, who sat closest to the door, stood out to her, a tough-looking woman with a shaved head. She had black geometric tattoos running down the left side of her head. There was no kindness in her eyes. If anything they were cold and callous. Keira’s heart hardened as her gaze traveled beyond the woman. Crecee was with them, as was his lieutenant, Cheng Li.
The captain peered up from his cards as she walked in. So too did the rest of his companions. They wore fatigues and all had sidearms, older SR-2s.
“Keira,” Crecee said, setting his cards facedown on the table, “what a pleasant surprise. Your presence just brightens my day, love.”
Crecee’s tone was lighthearted and friendly.
To his side, Cheng Li just stared at her, his look inscrutable.
“If you say so,” Keira said, feeling a spark of irritation as she moved toward the kitchen. She wanted nothing to do with Crecee. Keira pushed the door open and stepped into the kitchen, making sure to close the door behind her.
The kitchen was a small space, crowded with equipment, including an old-fashioned stove, four cooking units, a set of ovens, and a dishwasher. There was also a small walk-in freezer to the left. The door to that was closed. The equipment was incredibly old, ancient even. It was another sign of how much they had lost with the Fall.
The space was warm and smelled strongly of baking bread. She felt the heat from the oven against her cheeks. Everything was spotlessly clean. One thing Syles did was keep his kitchen immaculate.
Syles had his back to her and was scrubbing a pot in a sink. He turned and seemed genuinely pleased to see her. His old, wrinkled face softened.
“Keira, so good to see you.” Syles wiped his hands clean on a soiled towel tucked into his belt. The towel had once been white, but was now an off-gray sort of color. He wore a white shirt, with gray slacks. Both were threadbare and had been badly stained. She idly wondered when he’d last bothered to wash them, which was ironic because the kitchen was so clean. The cleanliness stopped at his person.
“Lee came by earlier,” Syles continued. “He said you were going out into the field again. So soon, so sad. I am making fresh bread. It won’t be done till you are gone.”
Syles spoke quickly, almost too quickly, as if rushing his words out. Imperial Standard was clearly not his first language.
“I will surely miss that,” Keira said, though she found his bread was nearly tasteless. She could do without. There were some days the hated ration bars were preferable to his cooking.
“I so sad you go so soon.”
“That wouldn’t be because you need something fixed, would it?” Keira asked, running her gaze around the kitchen, wondering what had broken now. Something was always breaking down around the base. The people who called the place their permanent home, like Syles, usually looked to her for repairs and, truth be told, Keira did not much mind fixing things. In fact, she loved repair work. It was what she did and seemed to be her calling in life. Keira had always had an affinity for mechanical things.
The cook shook an age-worn finger at her. “Ah—you know me too well.” Syles turned and pointed at one of his cookers. “It’s broke again. I don’t know why. You fix for me, yes?”
Keira eyed the unit. She had repaired it just a few weeks back. The heating element had shorted out. Likely, she would need to fabricate a new one. Sometimes the power in the base was less than stable and could surge unexpectedly, which tended to short things out that weren’t properly shielded.
“When I get back,” Keira said, “it will be the first thing I look at, okay?”
“That would be appreciated, much.” Syles moved over to a food preparation table. There was a battered metal field pot with a solid-looking handle over the top. He patted the closed lid. “It came down this morning on the supply shuttle. All you have to do is heat it up. I put extra in there for your team, a lot more. You no tell anyone. Should be two meals for the three of you. Lee took the coffee already. You better hurry. He might drink it all.”
Coffee was the one thing Syles was good at. That he had sent some with them was an added bonus to the extra helping of meatballs and spaghetti.
“Thank you.” Keira stepped over and made sure the top of the field pot was screwed tight and the clamps were securely in place. She picked it up by the handle and made for the door. “Thank you for this and the extra portion. I know Lee and Chris will appreciate that.”
“Least I can do,” Syles said. “Stay safe out there.”
“Always.” Keira left the kitchen and returned to the mess. Crecee and his crew were still playing cards. That was hardly a surprise. He looked up, his gaze silently tracking her as she moved across the mess toward the door. There was something in his manner that had always made her feel uncomfortable, a certain sleaziness that caused her to want to keep him at arm’s distance.
As she made her way by their table, one of the men abruptly pushed back his chair and stood, then moved to stand in her path. Keira came to a stop. He was no more than eighteen or nineteen and was taller than she was by at least ten centimeters. He crossed his arms, more, she suspected, to show off his powerful muscles and impress her than anything else. His fatigue sleeves had been rolled up crisply and were tight against his bulging biceps.
“Can I help you?” Keira asked plainly, letting her irritation leak into her voice. It was a warning, the only one she would give.
“How about you and I go somewhere private?” he breathed, taking a step closer and leaning forward so he was in her face. His breath was heavy with the cheap beer served at the base.
Keira felt her irritation spike. This wasn’t the first time she’d been accosted by a drunk or a soldier who thought highly of himself or sought to intimidate her. Asherho was full of people who took from others. Here before her was just one more asshole.
Crecee was looking on with amused interest. He raised an eyebrow as their gazes met. It was clear he had no intention of interceding. That pissed her off, for he was the commanding officer for his men and women. He should be setting an example. She returned her gaze to the soldier barring her way. He was gazing on her as a predator might cornered prey.
So be it.
“How about it?” he asked. “We can go to your place.”
“That would require me making a man of you,” Keira said coolly. Then stepping around him, she made for the door. “And I don’t have the time, nor the inclination, for I doubt you could manage to please me.”
He stared at her a moment, mouth agape. The table exploded into laughter. Glancing back, she saw what she’d said registered, and his face twisted in rage, mixed with youthful embarrassment. He grabbed her shoulder, roughly jerking her back and around to face him. Keira had been ready and did not hesitate.
Before he could react or even see it coming, she swung the heavy field pot around, hard, and into his groin. It connected solidly. He gave a deep grunt and doubled over. Grabbing his shoulder with her free hand, she brought her knee up and into the bottom of his chin.
There was a snapping sound as his jaw slammed shut, the
teeth clicking together. Blood spurted into the air. It didn’t feel like she’d broken his jaw, but in truth, she didn’t really care. He’d asked for it and she had delivered.
Besides, she knew it was better to set an example now than deal with more of this type of behavior later. There was no telling how long Crecee and his people would be at the base. By taking action, she was sending a message to the rest that would not soon be forgotten.
He collapsed to the floor, dazed, groaning, and rocking on his back in agony. He was holding his groin with both hands. Blood ran from his mouth and a split lip. He may have even bit his tongue. He was a bully, and she hated such people.
His comrades at the table had frozen, their mirth lost, vanished as if it had never been. Only Crecee appeared amused. Keira realized he had known all along how it would go, anticipated it even. Heck, the bastard might have even encouraged the fool.
Keira calmly set the pot down. Thankfully, it was a heavy-duty model that was meant for hard transport. Despite the abuse it had just endured, the top had remained sealed, the contents safely locked inside. She stepped up to the soldier she had downed and calmly removed his firearm.
Once he recovered, his pride would be bruised. She had no intention of giving him the opportunity to use the weapon before she left. Better to let him cool off and simmer down before they next met.
“No one touches me,” Keira said to him in a firm tone. “Understand me?”
He didn’t respond, just continued to groan.
She leaned forward. “Do it again and I will break something next time. That is a promise.”
Keira straightened, took a step back, and stared hard at Crecee for several heartbeats, locking gazes with the man. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. To his side, Cheng Li looked at her with the same inscrutable expression he had spared her earlier. She thought she detected anger in the lieutenant’s gaze but could not be sure. Keira tossed the sidearm to Crecee. He caught it one-handed and set it down on the table before him.
“I shouldn’t have to discipline your people. Don’t make it a habit,” Keira said as she turned away.
“You have such a wild spirit.” Crecee clapped his hands. “Bravo. You handled that very well. Do give McCandless my regards, will you? Tell him he’s done a fine job with your training.”
She ignored him and picked up the pot, then continued to the door.
“Oh, Keira,” Crecee called after her.
She stopped and turned back, wondering what he wanted. Crecee was smiling full on at her without warmth.
“One day, I will tame you. I will beat that wild spirit out of you.” As Crecee said this, his smile disappeared. “That is a promise too, love. And I will enjoy it, oh so very much.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Keira said and stepped back out into the hall. She closed the door behind her.
Keira’s hands shook and her heart hammered away in her chest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, before letting it out through her nose. If Crecee sensed weakness, he would take advantage of it. Of that much, she was certain. She would not allow that to happen, ever. Chris had taught her better. The anger returned, along with a cold resolve, and with it, her hands stopped shaking.
“Yield not, for I am strong,” she quoted as she spared a look back at the door. Then, she started for the vehicle park. She had a job to do, one that mattered.
Chapter Five
A short walk brought her to the airlock. She grabbed her helmet from the hook behind her neck, lifted it over her head, and secured it in place. The helmet clicked and, with a soft hissing, sealed itself to the suit. Her ears popped as the hazard suit automatically pressurized. Her own breathing sounded loud in her ears. It always did at first. A monitor pad ran along her right forearm; the indicator lights showed green. Everything was good.
Still, she took a moment to run a full diagnostic on her suit. Keira had long since learned it was better to be safe than sorry. Ending up in the med bay was not a desired outcome. The lights cycled and then turned green again. All systems passed or showed a nominal readout. The suit’s battery was also fully charged. She had twelve days of power, though hopefully she would not need that much time out in the field before a recharge or battery replacement was required. Such extended trips were rare events, but they occasionally happened. There would also be additional battery packs in the transport.
“This is Keira Kane,” she said, pressing the appropriate comm circuit on her keypad, which was located next to the monitor on her forearm. “Command, do you read?”
Protocol required her to check in with station Command, and gain permission, before venturing outside. This had become standard operating procedure after another forward operating base on the other side of the planet had been attacked and breached the year before.
As a team was exiting the base, on their way to a job, starving locals had stormed in. They had killed the repair techs, along with everyone else who had been there at the time. It had been a bloody mess. They had thoroughly looted and stripped the base. Keira still vividly recalled her horror when she had heard of the attack. She had personally known several of the people who had died.
“Hey, Keira.” Sandy Lensar came over the helmet speakers. Her voice sounded somewhat tinny, but enthusiastic, perky and incorrigible as ever. “Heard you were going out again, girl. Too soon.”
Keira felt a lightening of her mood. The events in the mess faded from her mind with her friend’s voice.
“You know me,” Keira said. “No rest for the wicked.”
“Apparently not,” Sandy said. “When you’re back up next, we should grab lunch sometime, perhaps even have a girls’ night out and get shitty. It’s been too long since we got together.”
“It has,” Keira agreed. Sandy was up on the main orbital station, working the dispatch table, a peon, like herself, stuck in the great bureaucratic cog that was the UPG.
“I’d love to catch up and hear about your adventures dirtside,” Sandy said. “They must be terribly fun, better than being stuck up here staring at a screen all day, every day.”
“It’s not much of an adventure. Backbreaking work filled with loads of tedium balanced with frustration is more like it. Trust me on that.”
“If you say so,” Sandy said. “I see you on the camera. Looking pretty in that ugly suit. Are you ready to exit? Is your suit functioning properly? Have you run a diagnostic?”
Even though she couldn’t see her friend, Keira waved at the camera anyway. Normally, the screen next to the camera would allow them to see one another. Like so much of the equipment around the base, it too had failed. No one had made the effort to repair it. That was, if anyone could find the spare parts to affect a proper fix, which was unlikely to begin with.
“I am ready to exit, the suit is green, and I’ve run a diagnostic. There are no problems of any consequence to report.”
“Just a moment,” Sandy said, and Keira heard her friend typing on a keyboard. “Cycling the air in the lock. Standby.”
Keira waited. The air on the other side of the airlock began hissing noisily. Less than thirty seconds later, the heavy airlock rolled aside. She moved inside, facing the other door. There were no windows to look out. The floor was covered in gray sand and ash that almost completely obscured the worn metal deck plating.
“When are you due to rotate up?” Sandy asked as the door behind her rolled back into place. The air inside hissed violently as the good atmosphere was sucked out and replaced with the bad stuff from outside. “I miss you, girl, really.”
Keira was touched. Sandy was one of her true friends.
“I was due to come back last month for two weeks of R&R,” Keira said, nearly sighing and feeling intense frustration. “That was canceled. Surprise, surprise, too much work down here to be given a break.”
“That sucks.” Sandy sounded sympathetic. She lowered her voice, as if not to be overheard by her supervisors. “Total bullshit.”
“I think
so too.”
“As you said, I guess there’s no rest for the wicked.”
“It does blow,” Keira said, “but there’s not much I can do about it. Only so many trained hands, you know.”
“Think of the adventure you’re having. One day when you’re old and toothless and stuck stationside like me, you will miss it. Mark my words.”
Keira didn’t reply to that. She was not quite sure she agreed. There wasn’t much to like down on the planet’s surface. Still, she understood she didn’t have it all that bad. For most, Asherho was a nightmare come to life. And Keira did not enjoy watching the suffering. Hate was the appropriate word for how she felt. She had seen too much already and at times it gave her nightmares, keeping her up at night.
“Another thirty seconds,” Sandy said, her tone becoming businesslike again. There was more typing of keys. “I have a visual on the outside. You will be pleased to know everything is secure. The outpost guards are in place. Chris and Lee have been hard at work carrying your water again. I’ve been keeping my eye on Lee … but in that hazard suit, it’s hard to get a good look at that fine backside of his.”
Keira laughed. “You are terrible.”
“I am,” Sandy agreed. “They’ve pulled out what you need from the bunker. That armored personnel carrier that you call a transport—what did you name it again?”
“The Beast,” Keira said.
“Oh, that’s right,” Sandy said, as if she were mentally snapping her fingers. “Anyway it’s almost completely loaded and ready to go.”
Keira had expected no less. The APC was usually well-stocked, so there would not have been much work. Still, she resolved to make it up to them, perhaps by standing an extra watch when they set up shop tonight. After her exercise, a long shower had been too good an opportunity to pass up. There would not be another for days.
Fallen Empire: A Military Science Fiction Epic Adventure (Born of Ash Book 1) Page 6
