REPEAT: Adrift Homeless 1x06 "A Sponge and a Bucket"

Alright, here's a repeat of the chapter from 2 months ago. Next will be the new chapter for this month.

Previously on Adrift Homeless:

Rommeria is a dying desert world, in a one planet solar system surrounded by a nebula. The nation of Hymalious City has formed a conglomerate with the other nations of their planet to build a massive colony ship to the stars, known as project Rebirth. Only one nation opposes them, and that’s the nation of Blazkor, a terrorist nation lead by the ruthless tyrant Suma Davi’s. Her father was a war criminal for genetic experiments he conducted on innocent people. The experiments included genetic modification to force compliance amongst the people of Blazkor. 

General Ed Gilber leads the project Rebirth, and he’s found a civilian first officer in Doctor David Stanfield, roommate to the recently recruited Emma Penman, newly appointed Chief Engineer of the project, a position previously held by her mother. It was upon recruiting the doctor, and helping science whiz Kathrine Pross seek a rare unknown element in the deep desert, that war broke out between Hymalious City forces and the Blazkor Nation. There were many losses on both sides, but Hymalious City was victorious, defeating Suma Davi’s’ army, and grounding an ancient alien space cruiser before the terrorists could crash it into the center of Hymalious City.

1x06 “A Sponge and a Bucket”

Released on www.patreon.com/99geek  on October 2018

“Would you keep us level?” the chief communications expert complained as he typed away at the keyboard of the small laptop he was balancing on his legs. “How bad of a Hymalious copter pilot do you have to be to not even be able to fly in a straight line?” The copter buffeted again, the four seater canopy swaying in the winds as the rear propeller strained to keep the craft in the air.

The pilot, a young boy possibly younger even than Zachary Pross’ daughter, seemed to be trying as hard as he could to ignore the rude man’s snide remarks. The communications expert, who introduced himself as Billy, couldn’t have been much older than either the pilot or Zach’s daughter Kat. It seemed the military was getting younger and younger, and Zach had long since been aged out. He was probably older than both his fellow occupants combined.

The sky outside was a dark pre-dawn, and Zachary could barely make out the sand passing beneath their copter. He had stayed up late that night, watching the genetic de-splicer agent replicate. He’d found a mixture of components capable of massaging the DNA in modified patients to, admittedly stubbornly, revert to the original cellular patterns the patients had at conception. His work was done, but he’d stayed up watching the automated process anyway, hoping that eventually when his daughter returned to Prime Central station, she’d come looking for him.

But she never came. And after watching the centrifuge spin for about the two hundredth time, Zachary had nodded off, awaking just before three in the morning. It was then that someone approached him, but it hadn’t been his daughter. Nor had it been David, or Emma. It was a government man, chewing on a cigar, talking about a crisis at a temporary containment facility.

 And so he’d gotten into this ancient Hymalious City Patrol copter, with its large canopy armed with a small spinning chaingun under the pilot seat and a large rear flat fin that housed the propeller, carrying with him a briefcase of medical supplies for the outpost.

Billy had been waiting on the copter when Zach showed up, apparently also needed at the outpost to set up a proper infrastructure or whatever he’d bragged on about. The pilot had been the last person to join them, having been selected as the most qualified available pilot there was.

“Seriously, Junior Crewman.” Billy complained again. “I’m trying to focus here, and I don’t need your incompetence stopping me from finishing these lines of code.”

“A junior crewman?” Zach asked, breaking his quiet contemplation. “Is zat a low rank?”

“The lowest,” Billy said with a sneer. “It goes Junior Crewman, Crewman, Cadet, Private, Ensign, Lieutenant, Major, Colonel, General, Commander, Captain, and Admiral.”

“And were you ever a junior crewman?” Zach asked, trying to make a point.

Billy frowned. “Not exactly,” he continued to explain, “I took the officer path. So I held the equivalent rank of junior officer. It’s the same, but better.”

“And what rank are you now?” Zach asked.

“I’m Chief of Communications of Project Rebirth,” Billy explained. “I’ve got the military clearance level of a general.” Of course the military would put someone like Billy on the fast track. People like him had no problems succeeding in the military. It’s why Zach had long ago left taking government money and never looked back.

“So like General Gilber,” Zach said, remembering the man who had put him on that copter.

Billy smiled. “The General is also captain of Project Rebirth,” he explained with self-satisfaction. “The only person with higher clearance than him is perhaps the mayor Maggie May.”

“The mayor has military clearance?”

Billy was still sneering. “Where do you think our orders come from?”

Zach didn’t like to be the kind of person taking orders. “And what’s my rank,” Zachary asked Billy, almost rhetorically. The kid answered anyway.

“You’re a civilian, Doctor.” Billy told him. “You don’t get clearance.” There was a shudder from turbulance. “Junior Crewman!”

Zach frowned, shaking his head as Billy returned his attention to his screen. Unfastening his seat belt, he stepped from the back of the cockpit, squeezing past the pilot into the co-pilots seat left empty. He had to suck in his gut as he squeezed between the seats, the cockpit not exactly designed for people of his size.

“Do you mind?” he asked the young junior crewman who shook his head. “Did you hear him back there?” Zach said. “Apparently you have a higher rank than me.”

The boy laughed. “That was your take away?” Zach thought the boy was doing an excellent job of holding the stick steady in the buffeting winds.

“Do you have a name?” Zach asked.

“Pinte sir,” the boy said. “Bobby Pinte.”

“You’re a fine pilot, Bobby Pinte. And you’re more than just your rank.”

The boy nodded, “Yes sir,” He pointed to lights in the distance, far past the light given off by their copter. “We’re about three minutes from the campsite,” he said.

“It’s been set up around the crashed ship,” Zach said, remembering what he’d overheard during his time at Prime Central Station in the medical wing.

“I was there when it went down,” Jr. Crewman Pinte said. “Co-pilot on the bomber that got Colonel Adams out.”

“So you were the closest to the aerial bombardment,” Billy said from the back of the copter. Funny what you could learn from people when you treated them as more than just their rank. “What was that like?”

Bobby Pinte didn’t immediately respond, his eyes seeming to glaze over as the lights on the horizon drew closer and larger.

“Junior Crewman?” Billy asked. Zach nudged him.

“Huh?” Bobby said. “The bombardment? Let’s just say I’m glad I wasn’t at the yoke then.” He reached over and hit a switch on Zach’s dashboard.  “Salvage Outpost this is Transport One requesting permission to land. I’ve got your requested Doctor and Communications Chief.”

 As the copter drew closer to the outpost, Zach could make out the large mysterious craft, nestled firmly in the sand, its nose entirely submerged in the desert floor. The salvage effort had been surrounded with large industrial strength spotlights for illumination at night as the crews worked tirelessly. Large trailer compartments were dropped around the makeshift camp, forming temporary structures for living spaces, services, and utilities. A temporary fence had been erected around the entire compound, and there were military personnel bustling throughout.

Despite Zach’s aversion to everything military and government funded, he had to admit they were most efficient when there was something they wanted.

“We read you Transport One,” a woman’s voice came through on the radio. “We’ll turn on the lights for you. Just follow them in.”

“Did she say she’s going to turn on the light?” Zach asked. “Which lights does she mean exactly. The whole camp is lights.”

The junior crewman smiled. “She means that one there,” he said, pointing to a new yellow blinking one, in contrast against all the bright white spotlights.

Zach crossed his arms. “Well that seems obvious now.”

“Buckle up sir,” the Jr. Crewman said to Billy behind him. “We’re descending.”

“Surely you can land without too much hassle,” the communications chief said snidely, and Zach wondered if he could do any better. The winds were rough enough to be slinging waves of sand through the air like tidal waves. He understood now why they’d chosen to take the outdated G-7 Patrol Copter. The sand probably would have mucked up the engines of a more advanced craft, in the same way it mucked up the exhaust on his bike.

Zach was impressed at how smoothly the pilot landed the copter in the small clearing in a corner of the camp. Jr. Crewman Pinte pointed the cockpit out towards the fence, touching down on the landing gear and reaching again to Zach’s side of the cockpit to spin down the propeller.

They’d landed between a collection of tents and a two story temporary shelter, a woman in military desert camo waiting beside the clearing for them. The jr. crewman lowered the ramp from Zach’s side of the cockpit, and gestured for him to .

“I hope you’re not going anywhere,” Zach said, concerned the pilot would leave as soon as he was off the ship, and he’d be stranded there indefinitely.

“I was going to find the barracks,” Pinte said. “A cot to lay my head. Catch some Zees. Just come find me when you’re ready to go back.”

Zach patted the jr. crewman on the shoulder. “Good man,” he said, stepping down the ramp with Billy, who had closed his laptop and slid it under his armpit.

As soon as their feet clanked on the metal ramp, the sand buffeted at their clothes, getting into the cockpit of the copter. “Solar hells!” Billy exclaimed, raising his hands to cover his face as they continued to descend. “This is why I stay in the city.”

Zach rolled his eyes at Billy, not for the first or likely last time. He was much more used to the sand, and squinted through it at the woman waiting for them at the base of the ramp. She had shoulder length brown hair tied in a ponytail, and wore shades over her face. She had an earpiece in her ear, and was trying to keep her ground against the wind.

“I WAS TOLD YOU WERE COMING,” the woman yelled at them, “BUT NO DETAILS. I DON’T KNOW WHO’S WHO.”

Zach was gonna offer her his hand, but Billy pushed past. “I’m Chief Communications Specialist Blake,” the younger man yelled not quite as forcefully as the woman.

She nodded to Zach. “Guess that makes you our doctor,” she said loudly, the wind buffeting against them as they stood beneath the propeller fin of the patrol copter. “I’m Lieutenant Beekler, and I’m the one they put in charge of security at this outpost.”

“IS THERE SHELTER WHERE I CAN GET TO MY WORK,” Billy Blake yelled loudly, as the wind picked up, hitting them in waves. Zach could feel the sand catch in his beard and sting at his exposed skin.

Beekler waited for the wave to pass before answering. “We don’t have any solid structures vacant right now, but we’ve set up a tent over there where you can set up your things for the time being.”

“Oh goodie,” Billy mumbled sarcastically, taking his laptop and bags with him in a huff towards the tents she’d pointed at.

“Who’s the highest ranking official at this camp?” Zach asked Lt. Beekler. “I’m looking for my daughter. She was in the fighting.” The wind picked up again as Zach walked with the lieutenant across the camp. Considering how early in the morning it was, Zach was surprised how many people were already awake. Or perhaps they were still awake from last night.

They passed a tall crane that swung over their heads as crews moved about it, trying to get it into place over the debris crater the camp had been built around.

“TECHNICALLY SHE’S IN CHARGE,” Lt. Beekler said with a point to a young woman on a high hilltop overlooking the crashed ship. Immediately Zach recognized her, even just her silhouette in the light of the bright spotlights beaming down on the crashed ship. “But if you leave your daughter’s name with me, I’d be happy to check the database. Doctor--?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Zachary said, leaving the lieutenant’s side to climb the sandy dune.

“Uh,” Lt. Beekler called after him, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She doesn’t like to be approached BY PEOPLE SHE DOESN’T KNOW.”

“DON’T WORRY,” Zach called, turning back to her. “SHE KNOWS ME.”

As he got close to the top of the dune he could make out what she was yelling, and she was so distracted by everything she didn’t even notice him coming up behind.

“CA-CAREFUL!” the leader of the camp yelled surprisingly loud for a woman so small and usually quiet. “YOU D-DON’T WANT TO CUH-CUT THROUGH POWER CONDUITS AND ACCIDENTALLY CA-CAUSE A FEEDBACK LOOP THAT COULD DAMAGE MY ELEMENT!” She was yelling at a man with a plasma cutter on an aerial work platform, the long arm extending from a truck to its max distance, and the man in the canopy shrugged across at the woman on the dune.

The young woman looked at her tablet, brushing sand from the screen. “MOVE ABOUT EIGHTEEN AND A-A HALF FEET TOWARDS M-ME, THEN CUT A NINE BY F-FOUR OPENING, NO MORE THAN A METER DEEP.”

The man shrugged in confusion, but slapped the side of his compartment letting the driver know he was holding tight, and the truck lurched forward.

“NO TH-THAT’S ONLY SIXTEEN FEET!”

The wind picked up, and in the young woman’s frustration, she almost tumbled over off the dune, but Zach caught her, holding her in place.

“What?” She said, quickly turning. Her eyes lit up with recognition. “D-Dad!” She yelled excitedly. “Wh-what are y-you doing here.” The wind blew her long brown hair over her face, and she struggled to brush it away as Lt. Beekler joined them.

“You okay, sir?” the leader of the camp asked.

“I’m fine,” Zach responded, immediately realizing as soon as he did that she was speaking to his daughter.

“It’s okay,” Kat said, adjusting her glasses on her face, after untangling from her hair, and giving the Lieutenant a sheepish smile. “He’s with m-me.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Lt. Beekler said.

“They told me, you were in the fighting,” Zach said to his daughter. “They said it was bad. I was worried sick about you.”

Kat just nodded, still watching the crew of people working on the crashed ship. “People shot at me,” she said as if it wasn’t a big deal. “GET THAT CRANE TO THE WING! WE NEED TO ROTATE IT ONCE HE FINISHES CUTTING” She looked back to her dad.  “I got to hold a gun at one point. And load a missile tube. And swing an axe.” She nodded, a little delirious. “It was a big day.”

“Have you slept?” Zach asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

“Psssh,” she dismissed his concern with a wave. “I’ll be a-able to sleep when I’ve g-got my element.” She looked at her tablet again. “ALRIGHT. D-DO IT!”

“Doc,” Lt. Beekler said. She had her hand to her ear, and he figured someone was talking to her on the earpiece.

“Why are you here?” Kat asked, turning her attention back to him.

“I presume we’re about to find out,” Zach told his daughter.

“It’s containment,” Beekler said. “We’ve been having trouble with the POWs.”

“The prisoners of war?” Zach asked.

“We tried to take as many of those Blazkor alive as we could,” the lieutenant explained. “Once we’d grounded the ship, and Suma was dead, we all figured the rest of her men would stop fighting.”

“But they didn’t,” she continued. “They fought like people possessed. And the one’s we’ve managed to lock up…” She looked across the camp, at an area obscured by the crashed ship, and trailed off.

“Vat kind of trouble are vee talking about here,” Zach his, his accent coming through.

“You should probably see for yourself,” the lieutenant said, offering to take one of the doctor’s bags. “Follow me.”

Zach looked to his daughter who didn’t seem to want to come with him. “I’m busy here,” she told him. “But I promise I’ll f-find you later.” He didn’t like it, but he didn’t see what other choice he had.

Zach followed the lieutenant around the crashed ship, their feet sliding on the sandy dune with every step. “How did you get put in charge here?” he asked, hoping she didn’t think he meant because she was a woman. “Have you led a facility like this before?”

“They probably chose me for my experience in there,” she said, nodding to the crashed ship. “I was among the team that infiltrated that thing. Alongside your daughter.”

“You helped get her out alive?” Zach asked.

“I mean,” she said, continuing down the dune. “I was there.” Zach followed after her.

“Thank you,” he said. “For whatever you did.”

“You won’t be thanking me for long,” she told him. “When you see the shit I’ve signed you up for.” The sand under their feet leveled off. We’ve been keeping them on the other side of the camp, as far away from everyone else that we can.

“Why is that?” Zach asked, but as they rounded the crater, he began to hear exactly why. It was like screaming. Or wailing. Crying. Growling. It was vicious. Inhuman.

“I’ve worked security all over,” the lieutenant said. “Including prisons. But I’ve never seen inmates cause as much trouble as this group.”

They passed piles of supplies taller than him, the sounds of the makeshift prison still filling the air like the sounds of a haunted house. It seemed they had done everything they could to separate the cells from the rest of the encampment.

“Stay away from the door!” Zach heard one clear voice yell over the mess of screams and cries of agony.

“What are you doing to them?” Zach asked her, his heart sinking in his chest.

“It’s not us you should ask, doctor,” the lieutenant said as they passed the final wall of supplies. “What you should be asking is what are they doing to themselves?”

The cells were like large cages, almost as if designed for animals, and inside those cages were horrors beyond what Zach had ever seen. And he’d seen a man liquefy before his very eyes.

The cells, each stuffed with people, were stained with blood and viscera. There were dead bodies strewn about the cells, amongst the hundreds of living Blazkor. And every one of them was screaming, or howling. Making noise. Pounding their chests with their fists. Beating the crap out of each other. One man was in the corner  banging his head against the bars so hard he’d left a bloody smear on the metal, and one could nearly make out the white of his skull, but still he didn’t stop.

One woman was shoving her fist down a man’s jaw. “That’s an improvement,” Beekler told Zach. “Earlier she tore off a man’s junk and beat him to death with it. One of her fellow Blazkor.” Beekler frowned. “When I sent a man in for the body, she killed my man. We haven’t tried to remove any bodies since.”

The soldier who had yelled for a Blazkor inmate to step away from the door, was finding the inmate less than co-operative. The woman he’d been yelling to charged the door, and the man hit her with an electric prod. Only she didn’t shy away, instead she grabbed the soldier’s arm, and shoved his prod in her mouth.

“Hey!” the guard yelled, trying to pull his arm away, but the woman wouldn’t let go. Instead she grabbed his hand. “No!” She turned the dial to max as electricity laced around her face, her hair sizzling and burning and an inhuman scream escaping her lips. Suddenly her eyeballs exploded, and the soldier was finally able to pull himself free, her body collapsing to the floor, fluids oozing out her eyes sockets.

Lt. Beekler closed her eyes and looked away with disgust. “Oh god,” she said, swallowing heavily. “I’ll never eat eggs again.” She brought her hand to her mouth and nose, meeting the doctor’s eyes. “They told me you have something that can reverse their genetic conditioning. I figure, don’t matter if it’s untested. Anything’s gotta be better than this.”

Zach looked at her, and the mess she’d been put in charge of.

“So?” she asked. “You got something in one of these bags that can help these people? I’ve got all the test subjects you need right here. They need YOU, doctor.”

Zach crossed his arms. “I’m going to need them strapped down.”

The man banging his head against the bars finally pushed too far, and his body dropped like a sack of bricks. Of the two men fighting, one of them got their ear bit off by a third party.

Lt. Beekler shook her head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I suppose we can’t always get what we want,” Zach said, placing his bag on the ground. Beekler passed him his other bag. He put them down side by side and started rummaging through them as she stepped up to the bars.

“Hey you!” the lieutenant yelled to a group of rebels huddled together. “Your mother’s a whore!” One woman from the huddle ran to the bars smacking against them and reaching her arm through as far as it would go.

The woman screamed, a loud scream, her reach just short of Lt. Beekler’s neck.

“It gets them every time,” Beekler said with a laugh, reaching out and grasping the woman’s hand as if to shake it. Instead she held it in place. “Now’s your chance doctor,” she said. “Better hurry up.”

The woman struggled against Beekler’s grip as Doctor Pross scrambled to pull the necessary tools from his bag. He pulled out an empty syringe, and the rebel really started to struggle.

“Don’t you dare inject me with your shit!” she snarled at Beekler, who held tight. The rebel was easily a decade older than Beekler, and larger too, but still Beekler was unintimidated.

One of the other rebels in the huddle approached the group, the man wearing a long brown tattered trenchcoat. He had an ugly look on his face, and from under the trenchcoat he produced a large machete blade.

“Do it!” The rebel woman spat, pulling against the lieutenant as hard as she could. “DO IT!” Her stringy messy dark hair hung in strands around her face and she pulled at her own arm as if trying to rip it out of the socket. With a loud pop that everyone heard, it dislocated.

“Nebulous hells,” Beekler swore. “How the fak did you get that in there?” The man brought the machete to the woman’s arm, judging where he intended to swing. He gave both the woman, and Beekler a hungry excited look. “DO it now Doc!”

Zach pulled out a vial of the genetic desplicer, his hands shaking as he tried to force it into the syringe.

The male rebel wielding the machete lifted it over his head. Beekler kicked out with her boot, catch him in the chest and knocking him back and away from them. With her free hand, she placed a finger to her ear.

“Weapons hot,” she said so quietly Zach almost didn’t hear her over the howling winds, even shielded somewhat, as they were, by the large crashed ship and walls of supplies.

He did here the crack in the air of a gunshot, and the muzzle flash from a nearby guard tower. The rebel with the machete dropped to the ground with a bullet between the eyes.

“Now we just have to figure out how to get that weapon out of there,” Beekler complained under her breath. “Doctor,” she said, about to complain at him to hurry up, but she needn’t have bothered. He was at her side. He injected the syringe into the rebels arm, squeezing the stopper until the entire vial was empty.

“There,” he said, pulling the needle from the woman’s arm. Beekler let go and the woman backed away in horror. “It should take twelve hours at least before we start to see results. Less if they fall asleep.” The rebel woman stumbled and fell to the ground beside the man who’d tried to cut off her arm. “Which is why I mixed it with a strong sedative.”

“Go doc,” she said, impressed. “Just two hundred and fifty more to worry about.” The rebel who’d had his ear bitten off seemed successful at fighting back, and with a loud crack he broke one of his attacker’s necks.

“Two hundred and forty nine.”

*     *     *

“There’s still no word from authorities as to the origins of the unidentified flying object that crashed outside Hymalious City,” a news reporter droned on, as Alec grabbed cereal from David’s kitchen. “Though we believe it was part of a terrorist plot involving Blazkor extremists. It seems readily apparent that Hymalious City had been their target.”

Alec was surprised to find milk in David’s fridge, something Alec hadn’t tasted in years. He poured some on his cereal excitedly, and sat down at the couch to continue watching the news.

“The grounding of the unidentified craft seemed also to mark the end of the fighting we were told broke out in the deep desert. We have no on the scene footage of the event, but we did showcase a number of second hand accounts from people who were there. You can find those online.”

“We also have yet to receive a statement from Maggie May’s administration involving the unidentified flying object people have started noticing in high orbit over our planet. We have a specialist here now to tell us more. Helen Masters?”

“The moment it came out from behind our moon,” an older woman with large glasses said on the screen, “we had numerous observatories keeping an eye on it. It appeared to have been moving on its own power, and has taken a deliberate orbit over our planet. What is most startling, perhaps, is the size of this ship.”

“I’m going to ask the question I think is on everyone’s mind,” the reporter said into his mic. “Could this be aliens?”

“Based on the design,” the woman said dismissively, “I find it far more likely that one of our governments has been keeping a dirty little secret from us this whole time, and they are about to come forward.”

The reporter crossed his arms.

“But of course it could be aliens,” Helen muttered with a roll of her eyes. “I could be an alien. In science anything is possible in this universe of possibilities.”

“But is it likely that it is aliens?” the woman said. “We don’t even know if aliens exist. The religion of the ten stars could have been right the whole time, at which point ours is the only remaining habitable planet. I would hope, if this ship is truly an endeavor our governments have been working towards, that they are prepared for that actuality, a far more credible theory than the existence of aliens.”

Again the woman rolled her eyes. Alec changed the channel.

“Boring,” Alec said to no one, happily chowing down on his cereal in ignorance as his channel surfing landed on some morning cartoons. That was more like it. A vampire puppet was struggling against another puppet, thirsty for blood. The vampire won out, biting at the other puppets neck, but when he pulled away, all he had for his efforts was stuffing.

Alec laughed, and almost didn’t hear the knock at the door. Then the doorbell went off.

“No one’s here!” He yelled out. It was true. He’d expected either David or his sister, if not both, to collapse through the front door at any moment throughout the night, but neither of them ever returned. He had no idea where they’d disappeared to, but he didn’t much mind. It meant he had the whole house to himself. That also meant no pants.

The doorbell continued to ring, obnoxiously ignoring Alec’s response. Alec frowned, reaching over across the couch to grab his jeans and slide them over his pale legs. “I’m coming,” he grumbled. “I’m coming.”

He hit the computer panel beside the front door, and the door opened with a hiss. There was a large older man standing in the doorway, with brown hair that stuck up in the front in the same sort of way Alec’s did. The older man had an unshaven neck beard that covered his double chin, barely fitting into the messy overalls and leather vest with his beer gut and surprisingly muscular bear arms.

“Dis is Emily Penman’s place right?” the man said, and Alec quickly realized he didn’t want any kind of trouble with this man. He also realized something else about the man, and his lungs exhaled forcefully in shock.

“She’s not home right now,” Alec said, reaching for the panel beside the door. His hand didn’t get to it, as the man in his doorway reached over and shoved Alec backwards into the hallway.

“Hold on now, shorty,” the scary man, smelling strongly of booze and vomit gave a chuckle and stepped over the entryway inside, slapping the panel to close the door behind him. “You’re him, aren’t you,” the man said. “You’re my boy.”

He reached across the distance between them and touched Alec’s face. “I haven’t seen you since you was a baby. Look at ye now. All growed up.”

Alec stepped away from the man. “I don’t remember you at all,” he said to his father, trembling despite himself. “But Emma told me all about you.”

“You mean liddle Emily?” Mr. Penman said with a chuckle, stepping past Alec to explore the house. “What sorta stories she tell ye about me.” He grabbed Alec forcefully by the jaw without even looking, then turned and forced Alec to stare him in the eyes. “Tell you that she protected you from beatings?”

Alec tried to nod, unable to move his mouth in his father’s grip.

“Did she tell ya that she blamed me for yer mutha’s disappearance,” his father continued, “that she tried ta set me up so I’d lose custody. She deserved everyting she got under my roof. None of it was ever meant for you.”

His father let go of him. “Ye gotta believe me, squirt,” the disgusting man said, pulling a flask from his overalls and taking a swig. “Bitches always try to keep us bros apart.”He slapped Alec on the back so hard he fell to his knees. “Remember. Bros before Hoes, squirt. Let that be the first lesson I ever teached me boy. Now get up, ye pussy. Find your pops somet’in ta eat whiles he calls all his friends and tells them where the cool new hang out in town is.”

Alec gulpled audibly. Why’d he not look before opening the door? David wasn’t going to like any of this. Where in the nebulous hells was he?

*     *     *

“Wow, “ Sara said, cooing in her moment of bliss. “That really was better in a bed than in a cramped cockpit.”

John leaned across the covers and kissed her passionately. “Was that your first time doing it on a bed?” he asked surprised.

“Yeah actually,” she said, thinking for a moment and then nodding with a sheepish grin on her face.

John nodded as well. “Me too,” he admitted, not having to think very hard.

“Aww,” Sara said with a giggle, “did I take your virginity?”

John laughed. “What’s your excuse?”

Sara shrugged. “I just don’t usually make it all the way to the bed,” she told him. “You know it’s like ten steps from the door, and the couch is usually so much closer.”

“You are so,” he kissed her, “lazy.” He kissed her again. “I’ve got obligations planetside that require my attention today,” he explained, looking down at her, “but you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

“No,” Sara said with a groan, looking for her clothes. “I’ll get dressed.” She pointed around the room as she slid naked from under the covers. “What am I going to do here all day? Smell your sheets and touch myself?”

John buttoned up his shirt. “Isn’t that what you usually do when I’m not around.”

“Hardy har har,” Sara faked a laugh, sticking her tongue out at him. “I’ll have you know, I use all my downtime VERY productively.” She looked around futilely. “Here my pants, but where’s my underwear?”

“You weren’t wearing any,” John reminded her.

She snapped her fingers. “Oh that’s right,” she said with a self-satisfied smile as she slid on her bulky flight suit. “It actually feels more comfortable.”

John grimaced. “I hope you wash that thing,” he crinkled his nose.

“Yeah I do,” she said, sticking it to him. “Twice, I’ll have you know.” He crinkled his nose again. “It’s almost time for wash number three.” Sara certainly wasn’t like any other girl he’d ever met. Her blonde hair was messy and unwashed, having gotten loose from its ponytail last night while they were rolling around. She was tall, and built like a boomball player. Unique.

Not that he’d had any experience with women, even at his age. His whole life had been the military, he’d been shipped off to military school as early as he could possibly remember. Before that, there was nothing. General Gilber had always been like a father to him, mentoring him every step of the way through the academy.

Once they were both fully dressed, John hit the door panel and it glowed from green to red, the door wooshing open. And they stepped into the black paneled hallway of the residential floors. A door across from them opened with a similar woosh, and David stepped out with Emma, her hair still wet from a shower.

“Well this is awkward,” Sara said with another of her sheepish grins, this time towards Emma.

“How is this awkward?” Emma asked, leaning over to dry her hair on David’s shirt. He seemed to be tolerating her grudgingly.

“I’ve thought about Ed’s offer,” David said.

“General Gilber?” John asked.

“Gilber,” David repeated. “Yeah.”

“Look,” John said. “I understand if your answer is no, I can take you down with me—“

David shook his head. “My answer is yes,” he said. “I accept.”

“Oh,” John said, surprised. He didn’t think the doctor was even interested. Gilber knew better though. Told John to give him the night. The general understood people in a way John never could. “I’m happy you’re sticking around. General Gilber isn’t here right now, he’s gone planetside. But when he gets back we can officiate the whole thing.”

John smiled at the doctor, a sincere grin. “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t call you commander until then.”

“I was hoping,” David said, “that you could give us a tour.”

John grimaced. “I wish I could help,” he told the Doctor. “But I, too, am needed planetside. I’m sure Sara would be glad to show you around.” He pointed to her. “Right Sara?”

“Actually,” Emma told them. “I have to go report to engineering.” She looked at David. “But I’ll catch you later?”

“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” John told her.

*

And with that David was left alone with Sara, before either of them could say a thing.

“Sure,” Sara said, in answer to John’s question. “I was only going to drink beer and watch last night’s boomball game.”

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning to drink beer?” David asked her, raising an eyebrow.

“First lesson you need to learn about space,” she told him, beaconing him to follow her. “It’s whatever damn time you want it to be, when you want it to be.”

David didn’t think he was going to like space very much.

*     *     *

When they’d arrived that night, Tameka had been immediately separated from her best friend and thrown into a cell. She didn’t know how long she’d been in there. In fact, as soon as her head hit the metal table she was out cold for what felt like days. When she awoke, she had a notably bad taste in her mouth.

“Can I get a toothbrush!” she called to the empty room.

One of the octagonal wall panels lifted open with a hiss. Behind it stood an old lady with short graying hair and a tired look on her face. She was holding a black tablet.

“Did you bring my toothbrush?”

The woman stepped inside, the door closing behind her, and she took a seat across from Tameka. “My name is Maggie May--”

“The mayor of Hymalious city,” Tameka finished for her. “So I guess you’re not here to brush my teeth.”

“I’ve read your report,” the mayor told Tameka, placing her tablet on the table. “In fact, I’ve read all the reports.”

“But mine was the best, right?” Tameka asked. “I always thought I had a unique voice. That it really comes through in my prose. Tell me you noticed.”

The mayor leaned forward in her seat, her mouth only too stern. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“How do I know Jack is okay?” Tameka asked her.

“Your friend has been administered the genetic de-splicer our doctors have concocted for us,” Maggie May informed her, “It should reverse any damage your grandfather’s experiments might have caused his DNA. And cure him of his unwilling loyalty to your mother. He’s sleeping off the effects now.”

Tameka breathed in relief. “I was the one who warned you about my mother’s attack on the city,” she told the mayor in answer to her previous question. “Where to find the rendezvous after. That was me.” She pointed with her cuffed hands to her face, still a swollen mess from where Jack’s fists had been forced to pummel her senseless. “I paid dearly for it too, let me tell you.”

“I’m sorry,” Maggie May said, and Tameka thought the mayor sounded pretty sincere.

“Jack’s a good pilot,” Tameka told her. “And I’m an expert weapon’s engineer,” she tapped her head with her cuffed hand, “genius some might say.”

“I read that you designed the guns on the Mark twos that your mother used against us.”

“We can help you defeat her,” Tameka insisted. “Suma Davi’s. When she resurfaces we know how she operates. We can help you end the rebellion once and for all.”

“The war is over,” Maggie May said confidently. “Your mother’s dead, her surviving forces rounded up--“

Tameka shook her head. “I know you think she’s dead. But I know my mother’s alive. I can—“

“Let me read directly from Colonel John Adam’s report,” Maggie May said, lifting the tablet to her face. “She’s dead. Definitely dead. One hundred percent dead. There’s no way she could have survived that fall.”

“I’m telling you,” Tameka insisted. “You haven’t seen the last of her.”

“Tameka Davi’s is wrong,” Maggie May continued to read the report. “She’s dead. Dead. Dead. Completely dead. Absolutely dead. Without a doubt…”

“Ma’am…”

Maggie May raised a finger. “She’s dead.” She lowered the finger. “Seems like he’s pretty sure.”

The door Maggie May had entered through shot open with a hiss.

“Councilor,” a concerned looking assistant said in a hurry, stepping inside. “I need to discuss a matter of great importance with you.”

Maggie May didn’t look at the woman, almost as if she’d been expecting the interruption. “What I need from you,” the leader of the free world said to Tameka, “is to pick your brain on everything you know that might help me moving forward.” She finally gave the new woman in the room a quick glance. The woman seemed very stressed and impatient. “As you can see, I don’t presently have the time for that.”

She rose, thinking to herself for a moment. Then she pointed at Tameka, and gestured for her to follow along. “So if you’ll walk with me,” the mayor told her. “I think I’d like to keep you close.”

Tameka got up, quite sure she wanted to do exactly whatever Maggie May asked of her. She also wasn’t interested in wasting any more time in that cell. Outside the cell she was in the black polished hallways of Prime Central Station’s executive wing.

“I’ve always wanted to be inside Prime Central station,” Tameka told the mayor.

“Well how did you enjoy your first night sleeping here?” the mayor asked her, bemused.

Tameka frowned dramatically. “The rooms weren’t as luxurious as I was expecting.”

“I hear the bed can be a little hard.” Maggie May turned to her assistant. “Tell me about the salvage operation.”

Her assistant squirmed. “That’s not the matter of importance I need to talk to you about,” she said quickly.

“I know what you want to talk to me about,” the councilwoman said dismissively. “I’m not ready to talk about that yet.”

“What is it?” Tameka asked the assistant. “What’s so important?”

“There’s a ship in the sky over our city,” the assistant said, thoroughly frazzled.

“Becca,” the councilwoman said, introducing the two. “Meet Tameka. Tameka, this is my assistant Becca.”

“No one knows where the ship came from,” Becca blurted, apparently desperate to get it all out, “but all the councilmembers are insisting Maggie May make a public statement addressing the war and the unknown object now holding orbit in our sky.” The assistant took a deep breath. “Why am I telling you? weren’t you in a cell a moment ago?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Maggie May assured Becca. “And as for the speech, I haven’t decided on what I’m going to say.” She patted Becca on the shoulder. “But you can tell the other councilors that as soon as I know, they’ll be the first to hear about it.”

She opened a door to what Tameka could only assume was her office, allowing Tameka to enter first. Becca seemed unsatisfied but Maggie May simply raised a finger and she shut up. “I’m getting to it.” She shut the door before her assistant could say anymore.

The mayor’s office was decently sized, with a plain completely ordinary desk in the center, and a couch against one wall. The mayor ignored both, and went straight for the liquor cabinet. Pulling a bottle from a glass case, she poured herself a glass and drank it down hungrily.

“You okay?” Tameka asked, unsure what she was supposed to do.

“Better now,” Maggie May told her. “Would you like a glass?”

Tameka laughed despite herself. “No,” she said. “to be honest I really just wanna brush my teeth.”

The city’s mayor reached into the liquor cabinet, for the one unopened bottle she had. Instead of lifting it, however, she simply tilted it forward, and a bookcase behind her desk opened into a lit bathroom with toilet stall, marble sink, full sized shower, and large majestic mirror.

“Wow,” Tameka said in surprise. “You have a panic room.”

“I always thought it more sensible,” Maggie May said, “that were one to possess a panic room, why not make it a panic bathroom. Far more practical, I’d say.”

Tameka grinned, pointing at the mayor. “I like you,” she said, stepping into the bathroom and finding a drawer of clean toothbrushes under the sink. “Scratch that. I love you. You’re my new mommy now, okay?”

*     *     *

Emma’s elevator reached the engineering deck with a jolt. She stepped out onto the grated flooring of the lower decks, clanging as she made her way through the narrow hallways to the engineering bay.

It was a large open bay with little lighting, Large machines spinning and whirring and blinking, powering all the systems that kept the ship working and alive. There were seven engineers in the bay, all large sweaty men, surrounding Lazarus Englebert. Eggie was telling a joke and they all laughed.

“Did you see that fight during the game yesterday,” Eggie told his fellow crewmates. “Jetson lost so bad, I could have taken him. People don’t realize that the key for hand to hand isn’t strength, it’s technique.” They must have been talking about last night’s boomball game.

“Alright,” Emma said loudly to the group, announcing her arrival. “Enough standing around. I’ve been doing some thinking on the power crisis, and we’re gonna have to put an order in for some more capacitors. I’m gonna need a mock up of how much each deck draws, how much the unfinished decks are going to draw once completed, and from that we’ll draw a mock up of how much this is going to cost the taxpayers.”

The crew looked at her blankly, one large man with a pony tail even snickering.

Englebert stepped through them to be at the head of the group. “We’ve been talking,” he told her, “and we’ve decided we’re done taking orders from women.”

“Excuse me?” This hadn’t been what she’d expected to walk into, but it also wasn’t any less than what she expected from Eggie.

“We’ve been having intermittent issues with one of the lines to the primary landing bay,” the large man with a ponytail said in a deep voice, bending over to pick up a toolkit at his feet. His tight jumpsuit shifted unfortunately in just such a way as to grant her a most uncomfortable view. Emma averted her eyes and tried not to puke. “They’ve been reporting brown outs. Why don’t you check it out?”

Emma looked at Englebert, and all the engineers behind him crossed their large beefy arms.

“You heard Crewman Wicks,” Englebert said with a sneer. “Go see what’s wrong with the coupling, Chief.” The way he said chief held with it no respect. A couple of the men behind him chuckled. She really didn’t seem to have much of a choice. “Deck seventy four.”

She took the toolkit from Crewman Wicks. “Nice meeting ya, Doug,” she said defeated, pulling his first name from a nametag sewn into his jumpsuit.

As she left the bay, she heard them snicker, and she was pretty sure one of them made a comment about her ass. She was at least thankful it hadn’t been Doug.

*     *     *

The blowtorch was taking so long to cut through the strange metal of the ancient ancestral craft that Kat had them bring in a diamond drill to attempt the same thing from the other side. Still, it seemed that it was going to take hours and, looking at her watch, it was almost sunrise. She remembered what her father had said about coming to find him, and she made her way down the dune to the medic building, a narrow temporary portable set up as a place for their medic on staff to work and see clients.

The door opened with a pop as she approached it, and she found the on staff medic Janet Miles organizing her medicine cabinet. The woman was wearing a sleeveless military tanktop, her blonde hair done up in a messy bun.

“H-have you seen my--“ Kat started to say, but Janet put a finger to her lips.

“Your dad was using my computer to analyze blood samples,” Ensign Miles explained. “I let him take a nap on one of the cots.”

Kat crossed the small trailer, and found her father fast asleep on one of two small cots. She sat down on the other one, wondering if she should wake him. They could grab some breakfast together. But instead she decided to lie down herself, closing her eyes about to sleep.

There was a banging from the construction site, and suddenly Kat was back on board the bomber, fire raining down from the sky. The sound of a hammer banging against a nail and suddenly she was back in the tunnels getting shot at.

Kat’s eyes shot open and she bolted up, her heart beating heavily in her chest, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She was alert suddenly. Beyond alert. Scared. What was it? What was happening? Were they in trouble?

“Are you okay, Ma’am?” Ensign Miles asked her in a whisper, hardly moved from where she’d been.

“How l-long was I out?” Kat asked, still breathing heavily, her clothes drenched with sweat.

“Maybe five minutes,” Janet told her quietly. “You don’t look so good.”

“I thought I was there,” Kat said slowly. “I thought, I felt like the w-war was still happening.”

The combat medic put down the shifter she was holding, and sat down beside Kat on her cot. “You seem like a smart girl,” Janet said with a warm smile. “Surely I don’t need to explain to you the symptoms of PTSD.”

Kat frowned. That couldn’t be it. “I don’t f-feel emotions like other people,” she insisted. She shook her head again. “I’ve always been d-different.”

Ensign Miles nodded, and took a deep breath. “If I had to wager,” she said in a whisper, leaning in close to Kat. “I’d say it’s not that you don’t feel emotions, so much that you aren’t as experienced at processing them like other people.” Janet gave Kat a friendly nudge.

Kat frowned again, her brow furrowing with thought. What if Ensign Janet Miles was right. PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. A mental health condition triggered by the experience of a terrifying event. Kat supposed it was possible.

“How do people usually f-fix PTSD?” Kat asked, not too enthused about being inconvenienced so.

The combat medic shrugged her bare shoulders. “There is no easy fix for PTSD,” she explained to Kat. “It takes years of reflection and coming to terms with what happened to you. You have to sort of accept your own mortality and be able to move forward from that. Most people never really get over their PTSD.” Janet sighed. “A lot resort to alcohol, or narcotics, or sleeping pills.”

“Do you have any of those?” Kat asked, hopeful.

Janet frowned. “Drugs aren’t the answer,” she said. “Prescription or otherwise. It’s easy to build up a reliance, and all you’ll be accomplishing is delaying your ability to accept and come to terms with your pain.”

Kat nodded. “I understand. I’ll ta-take the drugs please.”

Janet Miles sighed, giving a defeated smile and patting Kat on the leg. “You know,” she said, getting up and rummaging through her medicine cabinet, “You may be more like everyone else than you think.”

*     *     *

“Sorry about that,” Tameka said, stepping out of the bathroom a good hour and a half later. While she was in the shower, the first real shower she’d been able to take in years that didn’t involve a sponge and a bucket, the mayor had left a military jumpsuit on the bathroom counter beside a towel. The jumpsuit was black, with blue stripes on the shoulders. She thought she made the Hymalious City colors look good, if she did say so herself.

“I feel a lot better now,” she told the mayor, drying her hair with a towel, as she entered the office, and sat down at the desk across from Maggie May. It seemed the council leader was still cradling a drink, though probably not the same one she poured before Meka had gone in. Maggie May was watching news coverage on the wall behind her desk, reports from multiple sources questioning potential theories on what the object in the sky might be. Interviewing experts from all kinds of different fields.

“You want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Tameka asked her.

“All this time, we’ve been barely holding on,” Maggie May said, slowly seeming to put words together. “People have been desperately clinging to this hope. Hope that we’ll reach a point of sustainability. Hope that things would stop getting worse.”

“They’re not going to stop getting worse, Ms. Davi’s,” Maggie May said, draining her glass.  “Our days are numbered. We’re already on the very brink. When people realize how much resources have been poured into this project—“ the mayor trailed off.

After a moment she continued. “When they realize there’s a mighty good chance that this ship could leave through that nebula with a fifth of our population and we could never see it again.”

“They’ll laugh me out of office,” the mayor told her. “They’ll have the Rebirth stripped for parts.”

“You don’t know that,” Tameka told her. “They might be too hungry to laugh.”

“Even with the resources of the Rebirth project redistributed, there’s no sustainable future for us here,” Maggie May said. “If we don’t give up our future on Rommeria, then we’ll all soon be as dead as the planet beneath our feet.”

“Don’t tell me all this,” Tameka said, pointing to the screens on the mayor’s wall. “They’re the people you need to convince. Tell them.”

*     *     *

Emma hooked her metal tool into the grating and lifted the flooring up so she could get to the power cables running underneath. She’d managed to track the intermittent current to that particular power junction.

“Do you mind?” a grizzled older man in a flight jumpsuit asked, clearly trying to get past her. “I was gunna check on my fighter.”

“You’re gonna have to find another way around,” Emma told him. “I’m busy here.”

The older pilot muttered a swear word, “Fak. The only other way to the landing bay I know is lift three, and that’s down fer maintenance.” He turned around to head back down the corridor he’d come from. “Damned ship is a maze. I miss the ol’ military base. Everythin’ there made sense. And the air we breathed there was real, not this recycled crap.”

Emma ignored him, shutting down the power running through the line. The problem was in the power coupling, a more advanced model than anything Emma had ever come across. There was no way her mother ordered these commercially. There must have been thousands of these employed throughout the ship, all specially designed likely by her mother. Manufactured specifically for the project.

The problem was, they’d not put it through the necessary testing. When using untested equipment, you were bound to run into unforeseen issues. In this instance, her mother hadn’t accounted for how much current would be running through these couplings every hour of every day. They were running hot, so hot as to melt the rubber ring that kept the seal in place.

Finding a charred mangled mess where the rubber ring should be, she pulled the ruined piece from the coupling, and rummaged for a replacement in her toolkit. This work was beneath her. One of the junior crewmen should have been given this task while she worked with Englebert on the redesigns she had in mind. But they weren’t going to listen to her. She was the outsider. And they were tired of letting a woman screw up the biggest job they’ve ever had in their life.

How could she possibly get through to them?

She was about to click the power coupling back into place when she noticed something, a barcode on the side of the piece. She ran her thumb over the barcode. It was strangely shaped, more circular than a normal barcode. It certainly wasn’t a sales barcode, and why would there be a sales barcode on a part designed by her mother?

She scanned the barcode with the camera on her communicator, and a notification came up telling her it was one of twenty three. She’d have to scan all twenty three barcodes to combine the scrambled data to create… she didn’t know what. But it had to be something, or else why go through all the trouble of hiding the barcode here.

But where would she find the others? Twenty three. She could remember, from her time looking over her mother’s blueprints, that there were at least 20 specially designed pieces for the Rebirth that couldn’t have been salvaged or bought commercially. Could each one of those pieces that her mother designed have a barcode on them? It was probably nothing.

Probably.

But she had to find out.

*     *     *

“Tell it again,” Gillian’s wingmate asked her, as they returned to their locker room after brunch. Her fellow trainees had treated her, paying for her meal and treating her like a hero since she had returned from the battle in the Deep Desert.

“Alright,” she said. They’d already heard the entire story from beginning to end, but they never seemed to get bored of it. And it didn’t hurt to tell it one more time. She started at the exciting part. “So we were on the wing, right, our engines still cooling down. And the aerial bombardment was right on top of us. That was when he decoupled us, and I had to dodge and weave through raining slag all on manual control with dead weight for a yolk.”

“He?” one of the trainees, a wide eyed boy, asked. “You mean Colonel Adams?” Everyone had heard of Colonel John Adams. Flight Leader of Alpha Squadron. He was a hero. Everyone wanted to be placed in his Squadron. Every pilot who was any pilot wanted him to be their mentor.

Gillian nodded. “He was my co-pilot,” she said giddily. Her trainees could hardly believe it, a few of them convinced that John had to of wrestled the controls from her or something. But she knew the truth, and it was enough for her.

They got to her locker, and everyone stopped, frozen in silence. She looked up to see Colonel John Adams leaning against what she was pretty sure was her locker.

The crowd around her separated, everyone stepping aside for Gillian as if they all knew he was there for her. But he couldn’t have been there for her, could he?

“Crewman Gillian Jazcinstreicht,” John said her name, and there could be no more doubt. “That’s a mouthful.”

“We just call her Jazz,” one of her wingmates said, reaching forward to push her in John’s direction. He knew her callsign now!

“Alright Jazz,” he said. He was calling her by her callsign now! John Adams! Colonel John Adams! “I’m sure you know why I’m here already,” he said, a charismatic white smile on his face. He crossed his arms, his shoulder still leaning on her locker. “Do you need to collect your things?”

Gillian could hardly speak, her mind was numb. “I don’t think I understand,” was about all she could muster to say.

“You’re being recruited to the big leagues,” he told her, and her fellow classmates started applauding her in the locker room. She could feel herself blush deeply as she nervously ran her hand through her short brown bob cut.

“You mean I’ll be answering to you, sir?” she asked him.

“Technically you’ll be answering to Lieutenant Thalia Ewen,” he explained, stepping away from her locker, “you took orders from her in the battle. But we often run joint exercises, you’ll be flying with me as much as anyone else. Me or Ensign Mikkels.”

The reality of the situation was finally hitting Gillian. “I have everything I need in here,” she told the colonel, opening her locker, and pulling out her bag.

“Good,” he told her. She shoved everything in her locker she could into her bag, stuffing it to the max. That included her shampoo, mirror, spare jumpsuit, comb, picture of her mom, pin-up of Colonel Adams. She was careful to make sure the Colonel didn’t see that last one.

“Are we going straight into space then?” she asked him. She’d heard the rumours. That the object in the sky was theirs, and that’s where Alpha and Beta squadrons had been this entire time. In Space! And now it was her turn.

He raised an eyebrow. “Not right away,” he told her. “We have another passenger to pick up, and we have to wait on engineers at Prime Central to finish refitting a G-18 for space flight.” The G-18 bomber was the same class ship she had been flying in the battle, the same ship they trained with.

She nodded at him, and he beaconed for her to follow him. “Will I be flying a G-18 in Beta squadron?” she asked him. Her old school mates applauding her as she left the locker room. She turned around to give them a final smile and wave goodbye.

He shook his head as she caught up to him. “We don’t have any combat ready,” he explained. “This is our first attempt at making them viable for spaceflight. Maybe one day, but the G-32s we’ve been using are far improved in most ways.”

“So then why refit an old G-18,” she asked, trying to keep up with his quick pace.

“With the loss of the space bridge,” John explained, “we need to find alternatives for transporting personnel and supplies to the Rebirth.”

“What will you be refitting next?” Gillian asked with an awkward laugh. “The old G-7 patrol copters?”

John turned and gave her a quizzical look. “Propellers don’t work in the vacuum of space.”

He hit the button to summon a lift.

“Right,” Gillian said. “I knew that, I was just making a joke,” she lied.

*     *     *

“Missus Mayor,” General Gilber said as Maggie May opened the door to her office. Of course he’d be waiting for her. “Yer assistant thought I could talk some sense into ye about addressing yer people.”

“I think you mean our people, General,” Maggie May reminded him sternly. She supposed he had a point though, and she was still feeling a bit tipsy from the three glasses of whiskey she’d had. Or had it been four. “But you can tell my assistant that I am ready to address the media. Prepare a podium on the front steps of Prime Central Station. I’ll address the people directly.”

“That’s amazing news,” Councilor Mombatta said enthusiastically, the large black man getting up from where he’d been sitting in the waiting room. Was the whole council there waiting on her? “People are frightened, Madam Mayor.”

“We’re all afraid, Councilor Mombatta,” she told him. “Maybe that’s precisely what the people need to hear.”

“I did as you asked,” Tameka said, following the mayor out of her office, carrying an opaque flask. “I really don’t think you need it though.”

“Trust me,” Maggie May said, taking the flask from her and sipping from it. She’d have to make it last a whole speech. “I need it.”

“Who in the nebulous hells is this?” Gilber said, lighting a cigar. It seemed to be a rhetorical question as he then quickly added, “I don’t think it very wise to be alone in your office with the daughter of a terrorist leader without any security.”

“I vouch for her,” Maggie May told him. “In fact, I’ll be swearing her and her friend in tonight.” She’d already made her mind up about that hours ago. “They’ve done more than enough to help us for us to know we can trust them.” Gilber seemed about to protest, but she didn’t give him the chance, walking with him and Tameka as Councilor Mombatta ran off to tell her assistant of her press conference plans.

“Speaking of tonight,” she said to the General, “What of David?”

“John tells me he accepts,” Gilber told her gruffly, puffing away at his cigar.

“Excellent,” Maggie May told him. “Then tonight can go ahead as planned.”

She took a swig of her drink as they crossed through the doors between the executive wing and the rest of Prime Central Station. As soon as she was through the door, reporters were on top of her with cameras in her face, flash bulbs going off left and right.

“Misses Mayor!” One reporter yelled. “What can you tell us about the object in the sky over Hymalious City?”

“Misses Mayor!” Another reporter yelled. “Have we been visited by aliens?”

“Misses Mayor!” a third reporter yelled. “How close did the crashed ship twelve kilometers from our city borders get to causing a major catastrophe.” There were many other questions yelled out at her, but most of them were lost to the noise.

“I believe you answered your own question with that one,” She responded to the last reporter she could comprehend. “About twelve kilometers.” She raised her arms to address everyone. “Please people, I will answer all of your questions with a prepared statement, if you would all follow me outside.”

They got to the doors of the station, where Maggie May’s assistant had hurried to meet them.

“They’re just fetching your podium now, Ma’am,” Becca said in a state of panic. It often amused the mayor, making Becca’s life a living hell. “I thought you were going to make a statement from your office. I’m so sorry, it’ll be brought right out to you.”

“It’s quite alright,” Maggie May told her, and she handed the mayor a microphone.

“It’s hooked up to all the speakers in and outside the station.”

Maggie May took the microphone and stepped through the doors onto the steps where, outside stretching out from the station, thousands of people had gathered waiting for a statement. Usually her face would be broadcast on the side of the large pyramid like structure, but this wasn’t a normal day.

She realized she was standing out there alone, and looked back at Gilber, Tameka, and Becca. Becca shook her head violently, and Gilber gave a far more subtle shake of his head, but Tameka just shrugged and stepped forward. Councilor Mombatta, just joining them, stepped past them to join her and together they stepped outside.

Maggie May stubbornly waited, throwing the General a raise of her eyebrow. Finally, reluctantly, he stepped out, pushing her assistant out with him. Strength in numbers.

The mayor took a swig of her drink.

“Hello,” Maggie May said into her microphone, and the speakers blew out, emitting a large high pitched squeak. Everyone winced, and Maggie May quickly covered her hand over the mic, looking to Becca. Her assistant was furiously tapping at her tablet to wirelessly control the levels.

“Well that works,” Maggie May said into her microphone, and this time it came out at a more reasonable volume, booming out to the people gathered before her. The reporters had taken to the front of their crowd, all recording devices pointed towards her, everyone waiting in silence to hear what she had to say.

“I know what you all want from me,” the mayor said reservedly. “You want me to come out here and give you a short and quick uplifting speech telling you everything will be okay so that you can all move along with your day.” She paused, letting the silence hang over the crowd. “I’m not going to do that.” Another pause. “Chalk it up to age, but what I have to say is going to take some time to say it.” She paused again, this time wondering if what she’d just said had made sense.

Taking a swig of her flask, she continued. “Have you all heard about the Hymalious desert turtle?” she asked, and a number of people nodded. “You have?” she asked. “Of course you all have. Wait. That guy says he hasn’t.” she pointed to no one in particular in the crowd. “So I’m going to tell you about them, for that guys sake, and if you already know everything I’m about to say you can blame that guy for wasting your time.”

There were chuckles throughout the crowd.

“The Hymalious Desert Turtle didn’t used to be a desert turtle at all,” she told the crowd. “When it evolved on this planet, there were trees and rivers and vegetation. This world was a paradise. As our ancestors describe it.”

“They say,” she explained, “that the Desert Turtle could live a thousand years. That meant that there were turtles still alive that could remember the world before as it was. But last year there were only a few left, kept safe in captivity at our zoo. They weren’t mating anymore, you see. They had come to realize the world wasn’t habitable for them anymore. They knew that this was the end of times, and they didn’t want to bring up children in a world that couldn’t sustain them.”

“Just this month, the last turtle died in our wildlife preserve, and now another in an extremely long list of unique lifeforms that used to inhabit this planet has gone extinct.” She let another prolonged silence hang over the crowd. “They knew this was the end of the world. As we know, and it’s time we stop living in denial.”

“Yes,” she said, as her assistant’s assistant brought her podium out onto the steps and set it in front of her. “Thank you,” she told the man, leaning on the podium. “That’s better. It’s hard to stand and talk at the same time when you get to be my age.” She gave the crowd a meek smile as they seemed desperate for her to go on. “Where was I now? Yes. Yes, the object in orbit over our planet is indeed one of our making. It’s called Project Rebirth. Or perhaps just The Rebirth, once completed.”

The reporters at the front of the crowd jumped into another frenzy, screaming out questions as their cameras furiously flashed away. She ignored them.

“Like the Desert Turtle, we have the intelligence and understanding to know the fate that has befallen the planet,” she yelled out through her mic into the crowd, booming over the screaming reporters. “But unlike the desert turtle, we have the drive and ingenuity to do something about it.”

“We are building a massive colony ship, capable of supporting, we’re hoping sustainably, approximately two hundred thousand people. They will have the opportunity at life far more comfortable than what we have been living here. With unlimited water, and fresh fruits and produce. There will be an entire commercial district where people will be able to hold down jobs. There will be an entire working economy and ecosystem within this ship, as if it were a city in space.”

“This will be the chance at a better life for two hundred thousand residents of Rommeria. Selected not just from Hymalious City, but cities all across the globe. This has been a joint effort with all nations. Cortta Angail,” she looked to Mombatta, and he straightened his posture as the camera turned to him. “Occantay, as well as every other nation on this planet except for, of course Blazkor. The threat from which I can assure you has been affirmatively taken care of.”

Again the reporters yelled out questions, and again she ignored them.

“The Rebirth will not leave the nebula and then forget about the rest of us,” she continued to say, “And yes I fully intend to stay behind.” Everyone around her looked at her with surprise, no one expecting that of her. But it was something else she’d decided on for some time. “The mission of the joint military and civilian crew will be to seek out a new home, capable of supporting us. Upon finding that home, they will drop off all but a skeleton crew, and then return to Rommeria to facilitate the transport of the rest of us.”

“Our times are dark,” she summarized, stepping around the podium and sitting on the steps of the station. “Perhaps the darkest they’ve ever been. But there is hope. We have spent decades now building hope where there was nothing. The solar gods won’t save us. Teamwork and co-operation between all our nations and peoples will. Stay strong, Rommeria. And conserve that strength, because you will need it in the long years ahead.”

She placed the microphone down on the steps of the station, getting up and storming past Gilber back into the lobby. Behind her she could still hear the reporters screaming out questions, but behind them she could hear a spattering of applause.

She drained the rest of her flask.

*     *     *

“Do ye hear this shit?” One of Alec’s dad’s friends said, a large bearded man with a leather jacket. He turned the volume up on the TV where Mayor Maggie May was giving a speech. “Hey, Penman, come in here.”

David’s house was now host to over a dozen of Alec’s fathers friends, all drinking beer by the keg, and making a complete mess of the place. Alec really didn’t know where David or Emma was, but he was giving up hope that they would ever come back. He would have to take matters into his own hands.

“Slade,” his father said, stepping into the room, wearing a similar leather jacket himself, over his overalls. He clasped hands with the man who had called for him.

“You hear what this bitch is saying,” Slade asked Alec’s dad. “They got some big fancy ship up in space for all the rich people to live.”

“Just like the elite,” Alec’s father muttered. “Leave us all here to die so’s they can go finds a new home.”

“Wanna host a fak the gov’ermint kegger tonight?” Slade asked, stepping around the couch. “Shlem and Kerl are on their way back from a successful salvage. Sure’n da nebulous hells they’d be down ta party.” He grabbed Alec by the neck. “Think ye can cook up more of those yummy finger foods. We gotsa a lot more people still coming.”

“No,” Alec said. “This has gone on quite long enough.” He tried putting his foot down, speaking at the top of his lungs, but he didn’t think Slade could even hear him over the music.

“Yer know,” Slade said, looking Alec over in a way he didn’t appreciate. “Yer son kinda lerks like a gurl, ye know that?”

“Excuse me?” Alec tried to say. Slade grabbed him roughly, turning him around and bending him over a table. He felt Slade slap his ass.

“I wouldn’t mind bend’n him over n given him a whirl,” Slade said disgustingly, pressing himself up close to Alec. “Ye’d like that, gurl? Ye wanna be bent over and used like that?”

“Leave the squirt alone,” Alec’s dad muttered with disinterest.

Alec felt Slade’s grip loosen, and he squirmed free, stepping a number of safety steps away from the bad man. “I resent that,” Alec told him, positively frazzled.

“The kitchen is that way, bitch boy,” Slade told him roughly.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Alec told the bad man, turning away and walking at a brisk pace to the safety of the restroom.

“Probably to rub one at the thought of me mounting him,” he heard Slade mutter, and he made sure to lock the bathroom door as it closed behind him.

Alec had to do something. These guys were seriously bad news. Emma had warned him about his father, but he never thought it could be this bad. It was down to Alec. No one was gonna come save him. He would have to take care of these guys himself. The only way he knew how.

Running away.

He unlatched the bathroom window, pushing it open and squeezing through it though it was very narrow. He thanked the solar gods for his tiny stature. Even if it led to people like Slade regularly emasculating him.

He ran around the side of the building, thankful that last night’s storm had finally died down. The sun shining brightly, and Alec had nothing but the clothes on his back, but he knew he’d be okay. As long as he had his wrist computer, the whole world was open to him. And it would be a good half hour before anyone even noticed he was gone. He’d be kilometers away by then.

“Hey,” yelled one of Alec’s dad’s friends on David’s lawn. “Isn’t that your kid, Peter?”

Alec took off, running at full sprint down the road to the next quadrant. There was no way in the nebulous hells he was going back there.

*     *     *

“Hey!” one of the cooks in the cafeteria kitchen complained, as Emma squeezed through to fiddle with something under their sink. “I was using that!”

“I’ll just be a minute,” Emma told him, quickly coming up with an excuse in her head. “I have to check the pressure on the water filtration system.”

“Do you have to do that now?” the cook complained, his large chef’s hat tilting untidily on his head.

“There’s been a recurring issue,” she told him. “You should see what happened on Deck twelve.”

He frowned at her. “What happened on deck twelve?”

“Let’s just say,” she said, knowing she had him around her finger. “you don’t want your pressure to reverse and start showering your kitchen with human waste.”

The cook nodded furiously. “Please, continue.”

“I thought so,” Emma said, unhooking the specialized filtration system her mother designed from the sink, and scanning the barcode she found on its underside.

23 of 23 scanned. Would you like to play video file now?

It was a video file! She hid her comm device back in her pocket, and reattached the filter to the sink.

“Aaaand the water’s back on,” Emma told the man. “Looks like you’re good to go.”

“Thank you,” the man said to her. “Thank you so much. Please, let me at least make you a sandwich.”

“That’s okay,” Emma told him. “There’s really no need to thank me.” Well that much was true. “I was only doing my job.”

“Please,” the man said. “I insist. I was making this BLT for myself, but you deserve it more. I can always make myself another.” He handed her the sandwich.

“Wow,” she said, realizing she hadn’t eaten yet that day and was in fact quite hungry, “thanks chef!”

She took the sandwich and stepped out of the kitchen into the cafeteria proper. It was empty, as people were preparing for the ceremony that night. It meant she could view her video file in peace, and enjoy her sandwich. She took a bite. It was good. The bread was a little dry.

The doors to the cafeteria opened, and David stepped in with Sara.

“And this is the cafeteria,” she told him, apparently still giving him the tour. “this is where military personnel eat, though for the time being all civilian personnel on board have been doing most of their eating here as well. At least until more of the ship gets opened up for civilian access.”

“Emma!” David said, spotting her. “Are you okay?” She wondered if he could tell just by looking at her the kind of day she’d been having.

“I’m fine,” she lied, hiding her phone away again. “I was just checking the pressure on the water filtration system.” The lie was so good, it worked even better the second time. “Poop showering everywhere. It could have been a bad time.”

“But you fixed it?” Sara asked, with seeming real concern. Emma gave her a nod.

“That’s my Emma,” David said with a smile that calmed her nerves. He still had faith in her, even if the morons downstairs didn’t.

“I’m going to leave you to your tour,” Emma told them. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“That’s okay!” David insisted. “We were just about done.”

“Most of the ship is still closed for construction,” Sara explained.

“Seriously,” Emma told them. “I have work to do. But you guys have fun.”

“Keep fighting those poop showers,” David called after her as she left the cafeteria.

She quickly made her way to the elevators, and took them up to the residential decks. She took refuge inside David’s quarters, hers still not quite feeling like home, and she sat down on his couch to finally activate the video on her communicator.

Her mother’s face filled her screen. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she almost chocked. “Emily,” her mother said her name, and Emma started to cry. Her mother looked older, and so much more weary than she ever remembered her. “So you solved my bread crumb trail.”

“Yeah mom,” Emma said through her tears, though she knew her mother couldn’t hear her. “I did.” She curled up into a ball and fought back a sniffle as her mother continued.

“I knew only you could. Only you would be able to recognize which parts on this massive ship contained my unique style.” Her mother frowned, and it almost looked like she would start crying as well. “Of course if you’re watching this video, that means Maggie went against my wishes and brought you on board the project to replace me.” Her mother broke, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Which of course she would, because I raised you to be as good as me, if not better. It figures you’d be their only hope.”

“I want you to know I love you Emily,” her mother said between sobs. They even cried the same. “An’ that makes what I have to say next all the harder.” Her mother tried to compose herself. It seemed she was at a work station, probably the same desk where she’d designed all the parts Emma had spent the day hunting for. “I don’t want you to blame Maggie May or anyone at the project for tearing our family apart.”

Her mother nodded, as if trying to convince herself she needed to finish. “I chose this path for us. I chose to be a part of something that was bigger than us. It was the hardest decision I ever made in my life, but you have to understand I did it for you. You and your brother. I had to offer you guys a chance at a better life, and this was the only way I knew how.”

Someone yelled to her from off screen. She nodded at them, and coughed into a handkerchief. “I don’t have much time left,” Emma didn’t know if she meant for the video, or if she knew she was getting sick. Emma straightened up on the couch. “I’m sure the men aren’t being all that welcoming to you. I’m sure they likely blame you for all my mistakes. And I’m sorry, I’ve made many.”

Her mother sniffled, blowing her nose into the handkerchief she still held in her hand. “Don’t let them bully you around. You know what needs to be done. You know how to fix the power crisis. I have faith in you. I believe in you. Solar gods, Emily, I love you so faking much.” She seemed like she was going to cry again, but Emma’s mother closed her eyes and mentally composed hersel.

“I have to go now,” she said.

“No,” Emma begged the screen. “Don’t go, please don’t go. I miss you so fucking much.”

“I miss you, Emily.”

“I miss you too, Mommy.” It was like she was a little girl again. Thirteen on the street, scared her brother wasn’t going to make it through the night. “Mommy. I love you please don’t go.” Emma coughed on the snot running down her nose, but she didn’t care.

“Look after your brother,” her mother said. “He’s going to need you more than you need me.”

“It’s not true,” Emily pleaded. “It’s not true.”

Her mother reached across the screen and hit a button. The video went black.

Emma cried.

And cried.

Would you like to replay the video?

Emma hit yes.

“Emily.”

Emma cried.

*     *     *

“Am aye in the roight place?” A gruff woman said, approaching the bomber John and Gillian had only gotten to moments before. Gillian was immediately intimidated by this woman, as she was large and muscular, towering a good feet and a half over her.

“Crewman Jazz,” John called her nickname from where he was making preparations by the ramp of their bomber. “Meet Ensign Dana Alya. She’s another recruit to Beta Squadron.

“Uh hi,” was about all Gillian was able to squeak out. Dana walked right past her to drop her flight bag in the back of the bomber.

“We’re ‘eaded up in this bucket?” she asked John, impressed. “Aye didn’t think we ‘ad any space capable G-18s in the fleet.”

“Wait,” Gillian said in surprise. “So you knew about project Rebirth?” She had only just learned everything herself, having listened to the mayor’s speech over the station’s loudspeakers.

“Knew abou’ it?” Ensign Alya said with a laugh. “I was jus’ jealous my brother got assigned before me.”

Gillian joined Colonel Adams at the base of the ramp. “So we’re going to take off now?”

He shook his head. “No, we’re still waiting on another.”

“My apologies for keeping you waiting,” a very familiar voice said from behind Gillian. She realized it was the same voice she’d just heard on the loudspeaker, and turned quickly to nearly faint at the sight of Mayor Maggie May standing right in front of her. “Business around here is quite a far ways from usual.”

“Oh my solar gods,” Gillian said with a squeal. “Eeee! Oh my solar gods it’s you!”

Maggie May looked startled, flanked by her regular assistant that was always seen by her side, and a black woman in a jumpsuit Gillian recognized as one of the people with John during the Battle of the Deep Desert. “That’s what they tell me,” she told Gillian with a smile. “Please calm down.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of that,” Colonel Adams said, coming around Gillian to give the mayor a nod. “Misses Mayor. Crewman Jazz here is the pilot that got me out of that mess yesterday.”

Maggie May looked at Gillian impressed. “Maybe you’ll make Senior Crewman someday soon,” the mayor told her. Gillian squealed with joy again. The leader of their planet was talking to her!

Maggie May stepped up into the bomber, and the black woman came with her. “I’ll be back in time for my meeting tomorrow morning,” she told her assistant.

“Meka,” John said with a friendly greeting to the mayor’s plus one.

The mayor settled into the chair behind the pilot’s seat, and swiveled it to face them in the back of the ship. “So are you two excited to be recruited to join Beta squadron?” she asked Gillian and Dana.

Gillian was so excited she couldn’t bring herself to respond, but Dana just shrugged. “I’m just excited to shoot down some Blazkor.”

Councilwoman Maggie May frowned. “You know the war’s over, ensign,” she said dismissively.

“Aye understand that, Ma’am,” Dana told her. “But the bastards killed my brother. I have to hold out hope we still get another chance.”

The mayor nodded. “Hold onto that anger, ensign,” she told the woman. “You might just end up needing it before the end.” Dana gave a satisfied nod, and leaned against the side of the bomber, her arms crossed.

“You know,” Meka said, from closest to the ramp. “Gillian has a confirmed kill on a Blazkor Gunship. I saw it with my own eyes. I helped load the missile tube.”

Dana looked at Gillian impressed. “Really?” she said, her eyebrow rising.

Gillian giggled humbly. “It’s nothing.” She insisted.

Dana shook her head. “It’s not nothing. The spirit of my brother was with you when you pulled that trigger. He showers you with gratitude from beyond the grave.”

“Well,” Gillian said, unsure how to take that. “Um… tell him thanks? Or he’s welcome? Or whatever.”

“Tameka, why don’t you sit up here with me,” the mayor said, patting the seat beside her. Was her name Meka? Or Tameka? Which one should Gillian call her? She supposed she would just never say the woman’s name at least until she knew for sure.

John slapped her on the arm. “You want to co-pilot with me?” he asked her.

She froze in surprise. “You want me to be your co-pilot?”

He smiled his warm charismatic smile. “I can ask the mayor, if you’d prefer.”

“No!” she insisted, squealing quickly. “I’m good.” She sat down in the co-pilot’s seat.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to stand,” he told Dana who just shrugged.

“Aye’ve got strong legs,” she told John, and he nodded, sitting down beside Gillian.

“Hi,” she said with a wave. And then the next part just blurted out. “Do you have a girlfriend?” It wasn’t her fault! He was still staring at her with that smile.

“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “I guess I do. You’ve met her.”

Tameka leaned forward and between them, thankfully saving Gillian from her own embarrassment. “Are we sure this thing is going to make it into space?”

“So I’ve been told,” John said under his breath. “They said they tested to make sure the ship was airtight. Ran life support through, equipped it with orbital thrusters.” He flicked switches on his dashboard. “I guess there’s only one way to be sure.”

He looked to Gillian. “Ignite the launch boosters.”

Gillian hit the correct throttle on her controls.

“We have ignition.”

*     *     *

“Yo Eggie!” Emma yelled, storming into the engineering bay. He was still standing there with his buddies, likely all still laughing about how pathetic she was.

“I told you not to take too long, chief,” Englebert said, surprised it seemed to see Emma back at all. “You took all-- have you been crying?”

“I challenge you to a duel,” Emma told him, raising her fists.

“Excuse me?” Englebert said, acting taken aback.

“I want to fight you,” Emma told him, sure in her decision. “When I came in here this morning, you were all sharing stories about a fight you saw on TV.” She looked around the bay at all of them in turn. Doug especially looked impressed. “Violence is apparently the only thing you boys respect. So I’ll fight you.” She looked back at Englebert. “You’re the one so desperate for my job. I’ll fight you for it.”

“This is absurd,” Englebert said, looking for support from his buddies. He didn’t get any. He stepped forward, and tried to give Emma a loose smile. “Your mother would never—“

Emma punched him in the face, and his nose made a very satisfying crack.

“Solar hells,” Englebert complained. “She broke my nose.”

“I’m not my mother,” Emma told him, pointing at him with her fist. “And don’t you dare talk about her. You don’t have the right.”

He looked at her, seeing her it seemed perhaps for the first time. “And if I win,” he said, letting go of his bleeding nose, “You’ll hand over the position of Chief Engineer to me?”

“It’ll never happen,” Emma told him assuredly. “But you can try.”

“Fine,” he said, raising his fists. “But I get a free punch. Hold her, Crewman Wicks.”

“Dude!” Doug complained from the side. “She’s a girl.”

“I said hold her!”

“Do it,” Emma told him. She could take it.

Doug reluctantly did as he was told, getting behind Emma and grabbing her wrists to hold them behind her back. “As soon as his punch lands,” he whispered into Emma’s ear, “I’m lettin’ you go and I’ll give ya a little push, kay?” Emma nodded her understanding. She’d be ready for it.

“Come on,” she told Englebert. “Come on Eggie. How badly do you want it? You think you can hit a helpless little girl?”

He punched her square across the jaw, and for a moment she saw stars, her brain rattling in her skull.

“I told you,” Englebert said. “It’s all about technique.”

True to his word, Doug let go of Emma and pushed her at Eggie, before her eyesight had even returned. Swinging blind, she swung hard, trusting that Doug had good aim. Sure enough her fist collided again with Eggie’s face, and she brought her other fist up to jab him in the side.

Her vision finally steadying, Emma brought up her arms in time to just barely block two quick jabs from Englebert. He went low suddenly, and caught her in the stomach with a blow so hard he knocked the air out of her.

Stumbling on her feet, Eggie moved in and tried to grapple her, but his form was bad, and she was able to reverse it on him. Getting her leg behind his, she dropped him to the grating of the engineering bay floor.

The engineers around them cheered, and Emma put Eggie in an armlock, bending his elbow back to just before the point of breaking.

“While all the other kids were playing boomball,” Emma snarled as Eggie struggled against her, “I was practicing for the wrestling team, bitch. Nationals three years running.”

Eggie didn’t want to give up.

“Surrender,” Emma warned him. “Surrender or I break your arm.”

He finally patted the grating beneath them and she let go.

“You should see a doctor,” Emma told him, “I have one I can recommend.” She patted Englebert on the chest as she got up and turned to everyone else. “You all answer to me now. Tomorrow we’re going to discuss the power crisis, and we’ll be going ahead with MY changes to the system. If anyone has a problem with that, they don’t have to show up tomorrow.” She turned to leave but stopped, wiping blood from her lips. Englebert had hit surprisingly hard for his size.

“One more thing,” she told them. “We’re definitely hiring some more women on the team, the testosterone alone in here could smother an Occanttay butterfly.”

*     *     *

Kat awoke from her sleep with a start. It seemed the doc’s pills did exactly as advertised, her rest had been blissfully dreamless. It took her time to adjust to where she was, still on the cot in the medic center. The sun outside had dropped beneath the horizon, if it had ever risen at all.

“H-how l-long was I o-out?” Kat asked Lt. Beekler who it seemed had been the one gently shaking her awake.

“You slept all through the day,” Amy told her. “Your father told us not to wake you. He wanted to let you sleep.”

“W-what happened?” Kat asked groggily.

“They’ve done it,” Amy told her excitedly. “They’ve cut through.”

*     *     *

“You’re late,” David said as Emma joined him. He looked at her face, and almost broke from the line they’d formed beside Gilber. Her face was a mess, with a black eye and large bruise over her jaw.

“What happened to you?” he asked Emma in shock.

“You should see the other guy.” Emma assured him with a grin.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she told him, smiling to herself about something David recognized he didn’t need to understand. “I’m doing better. Great in fact.”

They quieted as Maggie May continued to swear in the new recruits to Project Rebirth. All the military personnel on board had assembled in the cafeteria to listen to the mayor give a speech. She also swore in three new pilots and finally, as Emma got settled beside David, Maggie May continued with her speech.

“You are the hope of our planet,” she told everyone gathered together. “Without the hard work you all continue to put in, we would all be doomed. Not just your families. Not just your friends. All of us. I respect the sacrifice you all give. And now I’d like to introduce you to someone else ready to sacrifice for our mission.”

She looked to David, and he stepped forward.

“Doctor David Stanfield has been selected, out of many possible choices, to be your new commander, first in command of Project Rebirth behind your captain General Gilber. All operations will now be running through him. He will be calling all the shots General Gilber is too busy to call, and making sure that the project runs smoothly and to your captain’s will. Everyone say hello to your new first officer!”

There was a loud storm of applause from everyone, and looking to his side David could see no one was applauding harder than Emma. He approached the mayor, and stopped in place to stand before her.

“I bestow upon you the rank of commander,” Maggie May told him. “One of the highest honors we have to give in this, our nation’s military.”

“I humbly accept this honor,” David told the mayor, “in the spirit with which it was given.” There was more applause as the mayor fastened a badge onto David’s collar, signifying his rank.

“I understand,” Maggie May said, as David stepped back to join the line. “That there is another rank to be assigned tonight. John? Would you like to give the honor?”

John stepped forward, “That’s correct,” he told the mayor, and she stepped aside for him to speak. “Ensign Sara Mikkels,” he said, turning to the blonde woman in line on the other side of General Gilber.

“What?” Sara said in surprise, apparently shocked that she had a part in the ceremony.

“For your bravery at the Battle of the Deep Desert,” John said, listing off her accomplishments. “For your unwavering leadership as second in command of Alpha squad, and your constant valuable support and advice, I present you with the rank of Lieutenant and joint command over Alpha and Beta squad. You will be sharing all necessary leadership duties with me, and have equal say in all operations.”

He looked to the pilots behind her.  “That means she can overrule my orders if she chooses to,” he told them, and a number of them laughed.

She stepped forward, and blushed before him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything,” John told her. “You’ve earned this. You’ve done nothing but show you’re capable of taking on more responsibilities.” He paused before fastening her new rank to her collar. “But remember. With this honor comes more work, and more responsibility. You sure you’re ready for it.”

“Just pin the fakking thing on me already,” Sara muttered, and it was obvious she didn’t want any more spotlight on her. John laughed and everyone applauded.

The mayor Maggie May stepped forward. “Now that the war is over,” the councilwoman told them, “that doesn’t mean you won’t still be faced with danger and adversity.”

“I beg you all to stay strong in these dark days. You are the light that will lead us to salvation. All our hopes ride on your shoulders. Do Rommeria proud.”

A black woman leaned over and nudged Emma, David leaning in to hear what she had to say. “The war isn’t over,” she said to Emma. “Mark my words. My mother’s out there. And we’ll hear from the Blazkor again.”

*     *     *

Deisha trudged through the sandy dunes of the deep desert, her footsteps once slow and without hope, now moving quickly with renewed vigor. She’d found what she was looking for.

Deisha came upon the remains of a body. Not dead for more than a day, still a ways from decomposition. “Oh mother,” she said, knowing precisely who the remains belonged to. “Look what they’ve done to you.”

She grabbed Suma’s arm, and began pulling the woman’s corpse through the desert back the way she’d come. “Come on mother,” Deisha said, with a sigh. “Your work isn’t done with you yet.”

Next Time on Adrift Homeless at www.patreon.com/99geek in 2019
1x07: There’s a lot more to Project Rebirth than just finding a crew. A lot of hard choices will have to be made. Kat and her team finally get inside the ancient ship to salvage. Sara gets to lead her first briefing. Jack and Tameka still have to prove themselves. And will Alec manage to escape his father, and his father’s scary friends?

Next Month on Dakotah Slade Paranormal/Investigator at www.patreon.com/99geek in November 2018
1x02: Detective Anderson Richards goes all in with a gamble that might not just put his own life in danger, but Dakotah’s life as well.