by Rachel Aukes
Throttle scowled. “Don’t tell me we’re dealing with Jade-8 all over again.”
“It depends on the colony,” Mutt said. “It sounds like some colonies only have the legally required one-year tenure of community service to the colony before being granted citizenship. Other colonies are not nearly as generous. Some of these colonies are likely even worse places than Jade-8. Simply, Hiraeth is a feudalistic world made up of over two hundred fiefdoms.”
“How do we know which colonies are the good ones?” Throttle asked.
“As long as we’re stuck in here, applying to the right colony is a crapshoot. Worse, the applications are done on an individual basis. Colonies may accept a dozen or so new arrivals, but no one will take all of us. New mouths to feed cost colonies money. There’s a group who’s been in this camp for over eight years.”
Throttle sat straighter. “Then we have only one option. We need to start a colony, and it’d be a colony for both our peoples, because I’m not willing to leave either group at this camp.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said we need to start a colony?” Mutt asked.
“We’ll find a way. Who’s the Hiraethian in charge of this camp?”
“The magistrate of the northern desert region. Her name’s Retta.”
“There’s our connection. As our legal representative, can you arrange a meeting with her?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, sure. But the first time I met with her, she gave me all of two minutes before she had her assistant dump all this paperwork on me and send me back to camp.”
“Ask for another meeting. You and I will go to represent both our peoples and propose building a new colony. Until then, we figure out what we can do to entice her into wanting to make a deal.”
Mutt chuckled. “Hopefully, you can work magic, because all my people have is the clothes on their backs.”
Throttle smiled. “Same with mine, mostly.”
Six days later, Throttle and Mutt met with Magistrate Retta in her office about ten kilometers from the interim camp. Riding in the car, Throttle noticed that the entire area was a brown desert with no signs of life. The magistrate’s office was within a colony that was an oasis within the dead land. Green plants flourished and vines climbed plain brown buildings. Even with the plant life, there were no signs of wealth in this colony.
The magistrate’s office reflected the colony. It was simple and unadorned. The artworks on the wall were small and faded. The assistant escorted the pair in and closed the door behind them.
Magistrate Retta looked up from her desk. “I have another meeting in five minutes, so I need you to get right to the point.”
Mutt glanced at Throttle, who then spoke. “I’m Halit Reyne of the Trappist colonists.”
“Refugees,” Retta said. “Trappist refugees, not Hiraethian colonists, not yet, anyway.”
Throttle continued, “We’ve traveled a long way to build a colony on Hiraeth.”
Retta motioned to Mutt. “You should talk to your friend, as he would’ve already told you that you need a backer and a hundred million credits to start a new colony here.”
“I have,” Throttle said.
Mutt pulled out several papers. “Here is the paperwork for filing a request for political asylum.”
Retta frowned.
Mutt spoke. “It was section—let me see—section eight, article four. Any group of people forced to flee a political system for religious freedom can be authorized to establish a colony for their religious freedom without a backer.”
Retta eyed him, wary. “Her people are from the Trappist system. Yours are from Jade-8, right here in the Ross system. You’re telling me all of you are of the same religion?”
He grinned. “Yes, Magistrate. Captain Reyne’s people are Canaanites, and we all converted on Jade-8 when we saw the light and power of their gods.”
Retta turned a dubious expression to Throttle. “And you’re telling me that your people fled the Trappist system for religious freedom?”
Throttle nodded, trying to look sincere. “Sure.”
“Then why haven’t I heard of this before now?”
“We didn’t believe it was crucial information to share before now,” Mutt said.
Retta shrugged and reached out her hand for the paperwork. “Fine. Whatever. Per the Religious Freedom Act, I authorize you to establish a colony without a backer.” She held up a finger. “However, you still need to pay the credits. And I assure you, there are no loopholes whatsoever around that requirement.”
“We have something worth five times that. We only need a broker to handle the transaction for us,” Mutt said.
Throttle rolled forward. “The colony ship I captained here from the Trappist system is in prime working condition. It can be used as a massive transport or as a cargo ship.”
Retta shook her head. “I know of only a few buyers who can afford a ship that size. You’d be lucky to get three hundred million for a ship like that.”
“It sounds like you may know your way around the marketplace, Magistrate,” Throttle said.
Retta guffawed. “I’m too busy to broker the sale of your ship.”
“Not even for one hundred million credits?” Throttle asked.
Retta narrowed her gaze. “You’re serious?”
“You’d get one hundred million for brokering the sale. One hundred million goes for covering the start-up of the colony. And the rest goes to me, which will be used to build the colony.”
Retta thought for a length. So long that Throttle began to worry. Eventually, Retta stood, walked around her desk, and held out her hand. “You have a deal.”
Throttle shook the magistrate’s hand. Retta then shook Mutt’s hand before walking back to her desk and pulling out maps and land-analysis charts. “Now that you’re authorized to establish a colony, we need to reserve a section, though you can’t set foot there until you’ve paid your credits. I should warn you, the best lands were quickly claimed, but there are many habitable lands still available across Hiraeth.”
Throttle rolled forward and Mutt took a seat at Retta’s desk. The trio spent much longer than five minutes picking out Hiraeth’s newest colony. After they settled on a chunk of one hundred square miles, Retta leaned back. “I need the name of the colony for filing with your paperwork.”
“How about we call it Canaan?” Mutt offered and then gave Throttle a wink. “You know, for our people’s freedom.”
Throttle tried not to smirk, but she admitted the name was a good move to help push the paperwork through. “It’s a good name.”
Retta made a note on the paperwork. “Canaan it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Magistrate Retta robbed you,” Birk said as he took a seat on the ground next to Throttle’s wheelchair. “There’s no way she only got three hundred and twenty million credits for the Gabriela.”
“I know,” she said. “But we got what we needed, with enough left over to buy food and supplies to make up for some of what we’ve lost, along with some to help upgrade the Javelin.”
“I would’ve pushed back. I bet she walked away with easily two hundred million herself.”
Throttle shrugged. “Probably. But she’s also been extremely helpful ever since the deal. She didn’t have to introduce us to our neighboring barons, but she did. She also gave us all the example legal handbooks and political guides to help us get started. That kind of stuff never even crossed my mind before.”
Birk shivered dramatically. “I hate thinking of that stuff even now.”
Throttle nodded. “I do too, but I understand why some rules and order are necessary. We have a lot of people. There’s going to be some disagreements and violence.”
“Going to be? I’ve broken up three fights already today, and it’s not even lunchtime.”
“But it’s worth it,” she said as she motioned to the view before her.
“Yeah, it’s worth it,” Birk said. “I’ll see you at the gazebo.” He kissed her on the top o
f her head and left her to her thoughts.
She looked out over the nearly three thousand Canaanites building their first town together along a river in one hundred square miles of rocky tundra. The light was dimmer here than at the interim camp, as they were near the planet’s light-dark line. Nearly a third of their land would never see the light of their local star.
Tents dotted groups of campgrounds on the west side of the river. The walls of the town’s first mud-brick buildings stood strong on the nearby hill. Beyond the campgrounds, fields of seedlings waved in the breeze. An irrigation sprayer had been built to bring river water over the fields. Planted in one of those fields were millions of seeds of noninvasive, edible plants. Most wouldn’t grow, as there’d been seeds for every habitable climate within the biome kit. The kits were used to kick-start every new colony back in the Trappist system, just as it would kick-start Canaan. It would take years to turn Canaan into a lush landscape. Until then, they’d be forced to barter with barons and magistrates.
The land allocations on Hiraeth were large enough that the two groups could’ve built separate colonies, but Throttle and Mutt had put the decision up to a vote with their people, and the majority voted for solidarity. Most knew pooling knowledge and resources when starting from scratch was a smart idea. There’d be conflict—just as Birk mentioned, there’d been plenty already—but Throttle had confidence their people could work through anything when they all wanted the same thing: a place to call home that didn’t involve sacrificing their freedom.
The day before, their people elected their colony’s first baron since Mutt and Throttle learned that most barons wouldn’t talk with anyone except other barons…unless introduced by a magistrate. The name was a formality since the Canaanites all firmly supported a republic political structure, therefore the baron had minimal rights besides being a figurehead. But the title would get an audience with potential allies.
The ballot had no official candidates listed, and Mutt won by a landslide as a write-in candidate. The gutter rats outnumbered the sleepers more than four to one, making the election results no surprise. Until the two groups became fully integrated in their new society, the gutter rats’ vote would mark the winner.
As with everything, things would not remain constant. There were a few small groups of gutter rats who she suspected would leave the larger community soon. They seemed peckish at being told what to do, not that Throttle could blame them. She felt the same, even though she was making half the decisions.
Throttle felt a headache just thinking about the endless meetings. Being on land for so long was wearing on her. She’d spent her life in the black and felt like a trapped animal. She wasn’t made for building houses and coming up with crop plans. She was made to sit in a cockpit and fly.
She heard rocks crunch behind her. “Back so soon?” she asked.
“Good day, good Captain.”
Expecting to hear Birk’s voice rather than a gravelly masculine voice, Throttle looked over her shoulder to see a dark-skinned man approach. He didn’t look familiar, but she hadn’t yet met all the Canaanites. She had a suspicion he wasn’t from Canaan since he wore black fatigues and hip holsters. She couldn’t read the patch on his left arm, but she could make out the star in the center, which looked a lot like a sheriff’s star.
She checked to see that her pistol was easy to grab before she turned her cart around to face the newcomer directly. “How can I help you?”
The man stepped forward. “Thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Chief Cormac Roux, and I’m the director of the Galactic Peacekeepers for the Ross system.”
“So you’re the law in this system?”
“Law, yes, but more of a unified security force for all the colonies regardless of nation or system.”
She shook his hand. “Folks around here call me Throttle. You know, we sure could’ve used your help on Jade-8.”
“I heard about it after the fact. Unfortunately, even with over two thousand specialists monitoring the networks, I have fewer than eight hundred marshals to cover an entire star system. Local law enforcement covers all the colonies. My Peacekeepers focus on criminal elements and political entities who tend to cause problems across multiple colonies.” He gave a small smile. “By the way, that was quite an escape you and your crew pulled off, Captain Reyne.”
“We got lucky,” she said.
The chief cocked his head. “I believe what you accomplished required a lot more than luck.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You seem awfully high in the ranks to come down for small talk with a nobody in a small dirt colony in the middle of nowhere.”
He chuckled. “You’re far from a nobody. You’ve been in this system less than two months and already everyone at Free Station has heard of you.” He sobered. “That’s not necessarily a good thing. You made some high-powered enemies at Jade-8. They’re bound to cause you grief at some point or another.”
“I expect as much, and I’ll be ready for them when they do,” she said.
“Jade-8’s been giving me grief for quite some time.” He gave her a shadowed look before he took a step off to her side and looked out across the colony. “You know, one thing I love about being in the Peacekeepers is that we’re a family. We look after our own. If one of us gets into trouble, we all jump in to help.”
She cocked her head. “I’m starting to get the feeling that you’re about to make me an offer to join your family.”
He gave a simple nod. “I am. You’re a natural leader. If you join up, then I imagine much of your crew would follow you, and the Peacekeepers has a role for everyone. You’ve shown ingenuity and fortitude, and most importantly, you’ve shown that you stand on the righteous side. I need people like you and your crew on my team.”
She smirked. “I’m in a wheelchair. I have no legs. How much good do you think I’d be chasing down your criminals?”
“I said we take care of our own. I’ll see to it that you receive adequate prosthetics.”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I can’t. I’ve got more than enough work already.”
“Is this what you really want to do?” he asked quietly.
She frowned, glad that he was looking out over the colony rather than at her at that moment. “I’m starting a new life here and helping others do the same.”
He gave a small smile. “This place can’t make you happy. You’ll be a caged bird that always craves to fly.”
“You don’t know me,” she said coldly.
“You’re right. I don’t know you, not yet, but I know your type because it’s also my type. I can see it in your eyes. You have a need for adventure that you cannot find in a small mud house and a field of crops. If you’re not bored now, you will be soon enough.”
Throttle glanced at her comm. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”
“I do as well. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”
She watched him walk away and wondered where he’d landed that she hadn’t seen or heard him arrive. She decided it didn’t matter enough to be late, and she rolled down the path to where a gazebo had been built overlooking the river. Eddy and Finn were putting the finishing touches on the plain wood structure. A couple of other carpenters were packing their tools and getting ready to go. One had been a sleeper, while the other had his back to her, though he also seemed familiar, and the familiarity niggled at her. She wheeled her chair toward him.
But then she saw Finn—and his blank expression. She approached Finn. “What’s wrong? You look a little shell-shocked.”
“That was the first time I’ve worked with Eddy,” he answered.
She grinned and patted his hand. “Eddy has strong ideas on how to do things. Doesn’t matter what the things are.” She looked up into his eyes. “Are you ready?”
His features instantly smoothed. “I’m ready.” He looked back at the gazebo and his jaw dropped. “What’s he up to now?” He took off at a jog back to the gazebo. “Eddy, stop. We don’t have time to rebuild the
damn thing again!”
Birk, Garrett, and Nolin came walking up from the riverbank. They were laughing about something, but Throttle couldn’t make out any words. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d laughed together.
It’d been far too long.
From her left, she saw Sylvian and Aubree arrive. They, too, were smiling, and Throttle felt lighter than she’d been in years. As the group congregated, Mutt strode down with Axe ever at his side.
Throttle’s eyes widened. “What happened to your beard?”
Mutt rubbed his chin. “Axe seemed to think I didn’t look like a respectable baron before, so I’m trying the clean-shaven look, for now anyway.”
“It suits you,” she said. She was surprised to find that Mutt wasn’t a bad-looking man under the tangled beard and unkempt hair.
Mutt turned to Sylvian and Finn with his hands in his pockets. “This will be my first official business as the baron of Canaan. You two ready for this?”
The couple looked at each other, smiled, and turned to Mutt. “Yes, we’re ready,” Sylvian said.
“All right. Then let’s do this. But I should warn you, I’ve never done this before,” Mutt said, and the trio went to stand on the gazebo.
Eddy tweaked a piece of wood before he was shooed off, and he came to stand with the rest of the crew and Axe just off the wood platform.
Mutt held out his hands, gesturing to Sylvian and Finn, before speaking to the audience. “Good day, good people. We’re here to witness the wedding of Sylvian Salazar and Finn Martin, citizens of Canaan of the planet Hiraeth.” He then faced Sylvian and Finn. “Today, you are making a legal commitment to each other as an expression of your love. You’ve been through a lot together, and today you’re making a promise to each other that you want to go through everything else in life together. Did you each bring a symbol of your commitment and love?”
