《Uprising: The Alliance Chronicles Book 2》


 Prologue

    Some years in the near future, the world stage has become rather stagnated. Countries and nations continue to work together on trade while engaging in back-room deals and deceptive and traitorous politics behind others backs. This is something that had been going on for years while the populations of the nations continue on in blissful ignorance, or living in suspicion.


    Eventually, after a major funding boost from a private donor, a new program was developed for the worlds'' space agencies to follow. NASA, the ESA, British Aerospace and China''s National Space Administration are the most heavily involved of all the space agencies in the project. Eventually, British Aerospace dropped out, leaving the ESA, CNSA and NASA to continue the project. Eventually, the Interstellar Transportation System is formalised and developed.


    The development of faster-than-light technologies is not something that Earth''s people have come close to developing despite the pursuit of several interesting ideas, but several areas that were accelerated in development included propulsion, cryogenics and radiation shielding.


    Atotal of six space missions to various nearby star systems were launched, and included the presence of seven humans in cryosleep for each mission, a prerequisite of the donations provided by the anonymous benefactor. Each of these seven missions were projected to span between fifty and a hundred and fifty years in length, all dependant on the distance from Earth.


    One of these missions was the Inter-Stellar-Shuttle (I.S.S) Tau Ceti, a mission travelling to the nearest star system in the Cetis constellation. Aboard the ship were two pilots, Stephen Hayward and John Malakhi, as well as two mission specialists, engineer Adam Su Lee, and communications and linguistics specialist Caitlin Xi Foster. Medical oversight was provided by the only other civilian member of the crew, Helen Deckland. The last two members of the crew were the surly army Lieutenant Walter Davidson, and the jovial, if firm, naval Captain Marlon Greenfield. This crew were selected for their specialisms, even if in some cases their psychological profiles were somewhat inaccurate.


    As this mission departed the inner solar system, Earth''s delicate and volatile international situation boiled over, and several issues contributed to the catalyst that led to the first worldwide nuclear conflagration, an event that everyone had assumed could never happen, and would not have if not for some fanatical people in charge of some dangerous nations that were not supposed to have nuclear weapons to fire.


    For fifty years, the I.S.S Tau Ceti, as well as other vessels, would continue outward to their destinations, completely oblivious to the calamity that was taking place back home. The first wave of nuclear attacks gave way to the first of a deadly wave of automated attacks by a machine army that no-one knew existed, controlled by an artificial intelligence that had been irresponsibly deployed by agents that had stolen the technology from international research conglomerates.


    Two decades saw humans in isolated pockets of resistance, against both a concerted machine extermination campaign, as well as a constant schism of nationalistic infighting and border clashes. Instead of people working together, despite the best efforts of the more intelligent and enlightened people of humanity''s survivors, humanity continued to fight among themselves while assuring their own species of annihilation.


    The AI had, over the course of the previous two decades, developed into a hive-mind. This mind was determined to stop the fighting by wiping out humanity, reasoning that at least the other species of life might stand a chance of survival without humans interfering. It failed to do so, and determined that the only option left was to raze the entire planet in a second nuclear attack, speeding Earth''s decline, and also ensuring its'' own destruction. No-one left alive had any idea what reasoning the AI used to make such a self-defeating decision. Those machines that were left were no longer able to receive command oversight, and simply executed their last set of orders, until they were finished. Then, they stopped, going into a powered-down state as per their in-built programming.


    Nobody cared about the machines or the reason for the last attack. Everyone was too busy trying to survive.


    After another three decades, humanity existed in isolated pockets. Earth was losing the fight to sustain its populace. Without something drastic happening, humanity would soon be extinct.


    Meanwhile, despite the I.S.S Alpha Centauri arriving twenty-six years earlier, the I.S.S Tau Ceti was the first vessel to encounter an intelligent, advanced, technologically superior civilization. The seven crew members were roused from cryosleep by the automated systems and acclimated to a sterile, contained existence aboard the spacecraft. Two days later, the ship encountered their first two ships belonging to the inhabitants of the Tau Ceti system, where after a brief misunderstanding, they were introduced and began the first of a series of discussions that would lead to the first interstellar trade route between Earth and Tau Ceti. Their new contact was a Ship Commander (the equivalent of a navy Captain) named Miradima. Oddly, these "aliens" looked uncannily human, only differing by a slight variance in the hue of their skin, and their clearly-elevated physical characteristics. While this discovery was unprecedented, it did cause one member of the crew to become hostile, until the situation was contained with only moderate injury, and an understanding that was reached between the two leaders of their respective vessels.


    Back on Earth, surviving pockets of humanity eke out a miserable existence in the remnants of the cities that had once been widespread and symbolic of humanity''s achievements on Earth. One of these last pockets of humanity was located in a shelter in Arizona, close to Phoenix. The survivors included an Englishman named Edward, who had evacuated from the British Isles just before the last nukes fell, his two surviving children, Jason and Leila, the leader of the shelter administration named Janet Fletcher, as well as her guard unit, and perhaps less than a thousand survivors in the shelter. One of the survivors was a distant relative of one of the I.S.S Tau Ceti crew, a young man named Mark Hayward.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    On one mission, Jason and a friend of his were scavenging for supplies, when they found an oddly-intact building situated deep within the ruins of the city of Phoenix. Despite Jason''s misgivings, his friend took off and started prowling around the building for supplies. This would be his final act, as he was soon killed by an unknown assailant, only to seemingly absorb a strange glowing mist-like substance, before being resurrected as something other than the young man who had been killed moments before.


    Despite Jason taking a warning back to the shelter, and the subsequent evacuation of the shelter ordered by Janet, the survivors were discovered shortly after as they traversed the wastelands looking for a secondary shelter to hide out in. The attack was swift, brutal, and almost final. So few people survived this assault, and they might have perished in a matter of days.


    All while this was happening, the I.S.S Tau Ceti concluded their negotiations around one of the Tau Cetian worlds. Earth was now in possession of the first technological advancement they would need to advanced onto the galactic stage. Faster-Than-Light technology. The crew prepared to take their findings and return to Earth to report on the overwhelming success of their mission. To celebrate their success, Miradima and the seven Earth people had a celebration aboard the Ship Commander''s command vessel, the Kl''Deesius.


    At this point, Miradima suffered her one and only premonitory attack, a rare but recognised event among her people. It foretold the discovery back on Earth that the crew would soon make.


    The crew set off for their home planet, accompanied by the Kl''Deesius. The journey that had initially taken close to fifty years and needing cryogenic sleep capsules to undertake, now took merely a few days. Arriving back in Earth orbit, they made the soul-crushing revelation that the Earth had essentially been decimated by war. The crew, distraught by this latest turn of events, did not know what to do. Miradima kept her vessel in orbit of Earth to assist in any way she could.


    While discussing this tragic turn of events, the Kl''Deesius detected traces of their enemy. Miradima immediately ordered a heightened state of alert on her vessel, having more knowledge than the humans did about what they were facing. A detachment of combat personnel were sent along with Davidson, Stephen and John. They discovered for themselves just how potent the enemy could be, as they witnessed one of their soldiers killed, invaded, and then resurrected. Without any hesitation, the remaining detachment of Tau Cetians dragged the humans running from the area, to encounter the first survivors they would meet.


    Returning them to the ship, the detachment reported their findings to their Ship Commander, who immediately placed the vessel in combat condition, and started actively looking for the enemy vessels they knew had to be nearby. The attack on their ship did not take long, as a hole was blasted in the side of the Kl''Deesius, sealing off the survivors from the rest of the ship. The ensuing battle was short, but Stephen was knocked out from a fall, while the Tau Ceti was crippled and the habitat section destroyed. Adam and Caitlin, both aboard the Tau Ceti, were lost.


    It was decided that an emergency evacuation was needed, for medical as well as strategic reasons. Earth was no longer habitable nor safe for the survivors, and the enemy most likely had a presence in the system. The Kl''Deesius sent for reinforcements which were despatched, and the remains of the Tau Ceti command deck were brought aboard the Kl''Deesius''s cargo bay, set aside for the humans to salvage what they could.


    Soon, a plan was drawn up involving the assault against their enemy using the last of the discovered combat drones that were dormant on Earth. This initially met with resistance from the survivors of Earth, some of whom lived through the final AI attacks on the planet. The leader was highly reistant to the idea, until she decided to let the matter drop. Her initial defensiveness and detached attitude to the returning humans was eventually set aside when she reached an understanding with Stephen, who had forced the issue with her.


    Not long after the drones were recovered from the surface and reprogrammed to follow instructions from the Kl''Deesius, the other ships arrived, and a teleportation chain was set up to move people from Earth to the largest surviving lunar complex that had been built before the war that killed civilization. Stephen, John and Helen were all ordered to the surface with the others, and this was not rescinded, even in the face of furious resistance on the part of both Stephen and Helen. In the end, Janet convinced Stephen to join her on the surface, and Helen was convinced by Marlon, albeit with bad feeling between them both. Davidson, Marlon and Miradima would remain on the Kl''Deesius and carry out their own tasks.


    The enemy attacked within hours. The ensuing battle was intense, brutal, and costly. While the enemy ships were all destroyed eventually, the allies took heavy losses. Several Tau Cetian ships were wiped out, and the rest all took varying degrees of damage, including the Kl''Deesius. One of the last enemy ships in the area took off toward the lunar surface, having detected human life beneath the surface. The Kl''Deesius intercepted at maximum acceleration, hoping that ramming the ship might give the humans a chance of survival. A late arrival obviated the need to sacrifice their ship, as the largest destroyer vessel the humans had ever seen arrived in lunar orbit and attacked the enemy.


    While the allies survived the assault, there were many losses. Among them, Captain Marlon Greenfield.


    The news was distressing among the humans, and John lost control completely, indiscriminately striking out at everything around him in his uncontrolled sense of fury and grief. Stephen tackled him to the ground and snapped him out of his rage, causing John to collapse in his grief.


    The news was the worst that the returning humans could have had. Three of their number were now dead, and the four survivors were never quite the same afterward. Healing would take time that the human species just didn''t have.


    The next phase in their survival plan would need to be drawn up, and this all began the following day.

 Chapter 01: The morning after.

    01


    The Morning After


    <hr>


    Early morning,


    Year 51, Day 88 following the I.S.S Tau Ceti''s launch from Earth orbit.


    The lunar complex was a vast, sprawling array of caverns and subsurface tunnels. It was capable of storing vast quantities of materials of all kinds, with the intention of providing fuel and parts for spacecraft leaving Earth''s gravitational influence. Had there been enough time, it would likely have served precisely this purpose, and would have been fully stocked with not only the containers and materials needed for spacecraft launches from the moon or from orbit, but it would have had all of the machinery needed to convert materials from their raw constituents as they were either mined from the surrounding rock, or provided from imports from Earth, into more useful and more complex substances needed for vessels to operate in space, including breathable atmospheres, fuel, even photovoltaic panels.


    Since the project never reached fruition, the massive storage space stood empty for half a century, almost completely devoid of any materials save for the initial atmospheric processors needed to allow a crew to work on the base. It stood with no-one to operate it, or to inhabit it.


    Until yesterday.


    Currently, the complex was shelter for almost a hundred thousand refugees from Earth''s surface. Each person had a story to tell, and the scars to prove it. The overwhelming majority were far too malnourished to be considered healthy, and so emaciated, that it would be a wonder they could function at all without assistance. Indeed, the stories from Earth told a very bleak existence, with many people dying off before they ever reached their twenties. Those who survived to their fifties or older were considered almost unique in a society where the average life expectancy was just short of thirty years. A far cry from the technological height of humanity not more than fifty years ago.


    Stephen Hayward was an exception, for one very simple reason.


    He never grew up on Earth during the events that led to the near collapse of the species. He was in cryogenic sleep during that time, and grew up in a time when food was plentiful, wars were what happened "somewhere else", and infrastructure that no-one alive on the surface in recent years had ever heard of was the kind of stuff he had taken for granted before he launched into space. Half a century ago, before the first nuclear warheads detonated across the globe, the average life expectancy had climbed to eighty-seven years. Stephen was a physical age of twenty-seven right now, though his chronological age was seventy-six. Cryosleep had the ability to slow the ageing process to a glacial pace.


    He was not unique in this. Three other people among the shelter had also grown up in the same era he had. One of them was their medical officer, a thirty-two year-old woman with a child on the way. Helen Deckland was selected for the mission to provide medical oversight on board a vessel that would be able to provide medical treatment for any shipboard ailment or injury. She was the ultimate decision-maker for medicine where the automated systems were insufficient for the task, and she had already assisted Stephen during a particularly unpleasant and unnecessary confrontation nearly three years before today.


    This reminded Stephen of the second of their crew. Walter Davidson, recently promoted to Colonel, was a cryptographic expert and a covert military specialist, and the only member of their crew alive who was military. At just shy of thirty-seven, he was also the oldest member of the crew still alive. He was somewhat abrupt, abrasive, something of a stickler for protocol at times (even though he had loosened up to an almost unrecognisable fashion over the last three years). He was also built like a tank, massed almost a hundred ten kilograms, and topped out at two meters and three centimeters. His bulk resembled that of most Tau Cetians they had met over the last thirty-six months. Lean, rugged and very powerful. This was a man who took his callisthenics routines seriously, especially while the spacecraft coasted through the Tau Ceti system during their initial stages of the mission they had been sent on.


    Stephen was a waif-like string bean in comparison to Davidson.


    Stephen''s friend, John Malakhi, rounded out their group. Twenty-nine years old, he was almost as tall as Stephen, who was almost two meters tall himself. John also had something of a wiry build, comprised of broad shoulders but on a slim, triangular body, along with some taut musculature that spoke of the same rugged exercise regime that Davidson followed, though to something of a lesser extent. John''s tenuous similarity to Walter Davidson was superficial. The two men could not be further apart in terms of their personality, Stephen mused. Where Walter Davidson was no-nonsense, a hard task master, and intense most of the time, John was almost carefree, full of anecdotes, and jovial.


    Well, he used to be, Stephen thought to himself, with sadness. John had lost a lot of his carefree innocence, and Stephen could hardly blame him. There used to be seven crew on board the ISS Tau Ceti.


    In fact, there used to be an ISS Tau Ceti in orbit of Earth. The ship had been crippled, the habitat ring destroyed, and two members of their crew killed by the attack that had tried to prevent the Tau Cetians from communicating the presence of their enemy to their home-world. Adam Su Lee, a twenty-two year old Chinese-American from Nebraska, had a lot of charisma and a sense of humor that was well contrasted with the demure attitude of his friend and fellow mission specialist, Twenty-three year old Caitlin Xi Foster, another Chinese-American, this time from Minnesota. Both of them brought some unique talents to the mission, Adam his prodigious engineering talents, Caitlin, her linguistics skills and training in communication protocols.


    The third crew member who had been killed recently was their mission commander. Naval Captain Marlon Greenfield was a jovial, carefree forty-year-old who had also found a balance between friendliness and protocol, and was the only other member of the crew to hold military rank. It was his oversight that made their mission to Tau Ceti successful, and his treatment of the crew was both fair and encouraging, bringing out the best of everyone. This had the chain-reaction of making everyone''s performance that much greater, and this translated into far easier relations between them as the visitors, and the Tau Cetians as the residents.


    His loss was devastating... Though it was devastating most of all to Helen; the child she carried had been fathered by him. They had been a couple for as long as Stephen knew them, and until the last few days, they had been steadfast.


    Stephen terminated that line of thought. Helen was going to have a tough enough time as it was dealing with her loss without any pettiness from anyone else. She was no doubt already berating herself at a missed opportunity to part on good terms with the man. She no doubt was keenly aware that she would never get another chance.


    This thought segued into thoughts about the newest person he had become acquainted with.


    Janet Fletcher, a twenty-something European-American female from Arizona, was sat near him, asleep in her chair. She had taken to keeping him near her at all times since their departure from the surface a few days before. She had also been the de facto leader of the remaining population of the Phoenix shelter that was once located just outside of town where he had lived before his mission.


    She was a very hard woman, having lived a desperate fight for survival since the day she was born. A lot about her was unknown, such as her exact age (she had no real way to measure how long she had been alive since timekeeping was something of a luxury among the survivors), as well as a lot of her background past the usual refugee reports of harsh survival. Seldom did she show vulnerability to anyone, and even those she did, she did so infrequently. One of those times happened yesterday, and it had led to an incident that put Stephen in a medical cot off of the main gathering area, where he was still being treated for several broken bones, internal bleeding, and a variety of other injuries.


    It had all been a misunderstanding, of course. One of the local residents of the Phoenix Shelter, a teenager by the name of Jason, had assaulted Stephen, thinking that Stephen had been responsible for causing Janet some anguish, pain or injury. Without bothering to check what had actually happened, Jason had launched into a flying fit of rage, and would have likely killed Stephen. Despite his weakened condition, he was vicious, sneaky, and did not mind using whatever advantage he could get. Stephen, on the other hand, was not a combat expert, not proficient in hand-to-hand fighting, and had no desire to harm anyone. It had been mostly one-sided, until Jason had been stopped by several Tau Cetian guards, and the misunderstanding had all been somewhat straightened out.


    Somewhat...


    Jason''s response was to utter some crude nonsense about sexual relations between Janet and Stephen, and Edward, the boy''s father, decided to mete out some rough justice. The shock of the retaliation against the boy temporarily drove the adolescent narcissistic bravado out of him, and Edward stormed off, not wanting to talk with his son for a time.


    For all Stephen knew, Edward still wasn''t talking to the boy. Not that Stephen blamed the man. Jason was enough to try anyone''s patience, and made Walter Davidson in his worst moments seem downright friendly. The fact that Jason had been so crude, and had acted disgusted at the idea of Janet Fletcher and Stephen Hayward engaged in any acts of intimacy, was so far beyond Stephen''s comprehension, that he could not fathom what the boy''s problem was.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Notwithstanding the fact that neither he nor Janet had ever gone so far as to do more than exchange kisses and the occasional comforting embrace, frankly as far as Stephen was concerned, what Janet did with anyone else was none of Jason''s concern.


    That would be a problem for another day.


    Having not long woken up from his rather long yet uncomfortable sleep, Stephen was feeling restless. He needed to talk to someone, and was loathe to disturb Janet. She could be downright irritable at times, and while he did not fear her wrath, he did desire not to irritate her when she was still recovering from a lifetime of hard survival among a populace that had been as trustworthy, and as trusting, as a colony of vultures.


    Stephen wanted to give her a chance to rest... But he was uncomfortable, needed the restroom, and plain needed to move from this weird position he had awoken in.


    After trying to move quietly to the exit to find the nearest facility he could use, he was met outside by one of the Klankharii guards. This one was named Elidim, a tall, willowy man, with the same hardened musculature of all Tau Cetians. His face registered slight concern at Stephen''s presence outside of the medical bed he had been left in, and he made as if to support Stephen.


    "It''s fine, Elidim," Stephen told the soldier. "I need the rest room."


    Elidim frowned slightly, as though in thought. Stephen tried again, this time in the language of the Tau Cetian people. That time, Elidim understood, and pointed toward the doorway across the corridor. Stephen limped across the hall to answer a call of nature, carry out his morning ablutions, and then return to the bed he had just vacated.


    Who would have thought being badly injured would be so exhausting on parts of the body that were otherwise healthy? Stephen wondered about that, but did not deny that just the morning exercise he had undertaken had tired him sufficiently that he wanted nothing more than to lay horizontally on that medical bed again.


    He stepped slowly back into the room, trying to close the door silently so as not to disturb Janet, only to realise upon turning to face her, that she was not only awake, but staring at him, her face unreadable.


    "Good morning?" He asked, almost sheepishly. What was the matter with him?!


    "Is it?" She asked in a flat tone, her face giving nothing away. What was the matter with her?!


    Frowning, Stephen paused a moment before answering. "Something on your mind?" he finally asked.


    "Yeah," Janet barked. "You''re on your feet following an attack that nearly killed you, and don''t think I can''t tell how badly your injuries are affecting you." Stephen was perplexed, because on the one hand, her sudden anger seemed unjustified, and yet, she was also on her feet, striding quickly to him, stepping to one side to provide support on his injured side. "Come on and get back on that bed before you drop to the floor, you stupid fuck!"


    "Hey, whoa, what the hell, Janet?" Stephen, while he did not physically resist her assistance, protested in a deliberately even tone, leeching all possible heat from it. Stephen had already learned that she was incredibly hot headed, had a hair-trigger temper, and often reacted on instinct, only to regret it later. "I''m fine-"


    "You''re not fucking fine, Stephen. Don''t lie to me!"


    "Stop!" Stephen said firmly, this time stopping himself physically. Janet, for all of her toughness and survival attributes on the surface of Earth, did not have the raw strength and muscle-density of Stephen, even in his weakened state, so she had been caught off-guard by his sudden immobility. "Look at me," he told her gently.


    Janet did. Her glare was like a blazing inferno, made more intense by the noticeable scar running down one side of her face and across the left side of her jaw, across the bridge of her nose, and extending past her right eyebrow. Combined with the emaciated, gaunt look of her cheeks and her other features, it gave the impression of someone who could kill in a second if she felt threatened.


    Stephen was not so foolhardy as to provoke such a reaction from her a second time, the first being in orbit of Earth a few days before when he was right in the middle of an impending possessor attack and had just borne the loss of two close friends and colleagues... And while all of that was still fresh in his mind, they were all now on the other side of it, and things were already changing.


    "Look at me what, Stephen?" She sighed finally, looking away briefly before returning her gaze to him once again. She was clearly struggling for patience, and Stephen needed to get to the point.


    "I get it. You''re worried about me-"


    "Don''t patroni-"


    "Seriously, I am not in the mood for bullshit today, Janet. Yesterday, our commanding officer gave his life to ensure our survival down here!" Stephen had to stop at that moment. Marlon''s death had been a major blow to all affected, and despite the fact that Stephen had always openly addressed him like a military senior officer, he had seen the man more like an uncle, someone he could talk to about things, have a friendly chat with, get stuff off of his chest. Taking a deep breath, Stephen continued, ignoring the tightness in his throat. "Please don''t take offence at every single fucking sentence I speak. I''m tired, and I need to recover."


    Janet did not interrupt, which Stephen was glad for, though he could tell she wanted to. He stopped for a moment to give her an opportunity to reply.


    "You need to be in that bed over there, not wandering all over the place," Janet told him in what, for her, were measured tones. "Gonna kill that fucking kid," she muttered under her breath.


    "No," Stephen told her. "You''re going to continue to help us build a life for ourselves. You can''t very well do that from inside a prison."


    Janet stood back, slightly unnerved. "Prison? What?!"


    "Janet, the time for summary executions is gone," Stephen told her gently. "I hadn''t intended to talk to you about this until well after we were on the road to recovery, but since it''s relevant, I may as well tell you now. At least, can we do it while I''m back in bed?"


    Considering his body was still sore, and some parts of him were in intense pain from the damage he had received at Jason''s hands, it was a wonder he had managed to stay on his feet as long as he did.


    Janet was immediately full of remorse, transforming her face completely. The sorrowful look she gave him at that moment tore at him, and he stumbled. Immediately, she caught him, utilising more strength than Stephen thought her capable of, though Stephen could tell it took everything she had. "Come on, you idiot," she muttered. "You''re gonna make me mourn another guy all over again at this rate." Stephen stumbled again at that comment. He had known that her feelings for him were intense. That had gone with the territory, he realised. However, this reminder was startling for him even knowing her as he did. She hefted him to the bed. "Fucking hell Stephen, you''re gonna make me do all the work here?"


    "Sorry," he said gently. "You just caught me by surprise, that''s all." Despite the heart-thumping reaction she had given him a moment ago, he nonetheless warmed up considerably, knowing she was viewing him in such a way. He probably shouldn''t be so content, as this definitely wasn''t normal behaviour where he came from; most people in his time got to know each other first.


    Janet sighed. "There''s a lot I don''t know about your world, Stephen. I''m trying."


    He nodded to her as he lay back in the bed, finally off of his feet and able to relax. "And I swear to you, I''m not intentionally making it any more difficult."


    She frowned slightly. Did Stephen find a gap in her vocabulary? While she was surprisingly well spoken for someone who had been living in the post-nuclear equivalent of the Bronze Age, Stephen had no doubt there were limits. However, she continued speaking as if it was of no concern. "I know you don''t mean to make it harder," she said, her voice a little rough. Suddenly, she turned her head away, letting it droop.


    Stephen knew she was most likely trying to hide the fact that she was crying at that moment. It was something he had seen her do a few times in the last few days, though she had told him that it had been years before the first time.


    This time, he didn''t press. He simply sat, gripping her arm gently, while she composed herself.


    "I don''t know what I''m doing, Stephen," she said eventually. This confidence, as vague as it was starting out to be, was clear as day to Stephen. She only ever opened herself up like this to Edward and to Stephen. The only other person she had opened up to in this manner was a lover she had once had back on Earth, a man who had given his life to defend his people from an invading scavenger force. That she would open up like this to Stephen was a sign that she was clearly and heavily emotionally invested in him. "For as long as I can remember, I''ve had to know how to fight, to scavenge for scraps, to whip other people into shape, to show a solid wall of strength, never allowing anything that could be seen as weakness. I''ve always had to look over my shoulder, even with people I could otherwise trust completely, because while none of them ever meant me harm, the possibility that one of them might be under duress was always too great. Not even Edward, for all he has never failed to support me in my effort to keep order in the shelter, was immune to duress. After all, he loves his kids." While delivering this line, Janet''s face held a hint of sadness. "Anyone who doesn''t is a monster," she added, her face showing some anger. Then she sighed. "But if someone kidnaps your kids and demands you kill the person running the show, would you defy the kidnapper, or would you kill someone to protect your kids? It still meant I had to watch over my shoulder."


    When she said no more than that for a time, Stephen slowly nodded. In an almost whisper while holding her gaze, he asked "Now?"


    "Now..." She said, her face uncertain, almost fearful. This level of vulnerability wasn''t new to Stephen. She had shown this side of herself to him yesterday as well. "Now I''m out of my depth! I''m lost, Stephen! When you said just now that there were no more summary executions, it hit me at that moment that everything I had learned to adapt to had been ripped out from under me!"


    At that moment, her head dropped to his lap, and she let out a series of weak sobs. This, Stephen knew, was something of a crossroads for her psyche. The realisation that she was going to have to learn all over again what it meant to operate in a society so different to what you knew before, was enough to unnerve anyone. Stephen wondered if he would be able to cope in her place. Stroking her head gently, he allowed his head to relax into the pillow, and remained silent for as long as it took.


    "What would make it easier for you?" Stephen gently probed after several minutes, when Janet''s breathing had eased.


    Her tear-streaked face looked up at him briefly, and then she rested against his lap again. "I need a place in this new world. I need to..." She sighed, sounding more than a little frustrated. "I need to be useful."


    Stephen understood that feeling far too well. Being stuck under the surface of the moon with a hundred thousand of Earth''s refugees while his friends and colleagues were fighting for their survival in lunar orbit was just about the most agonizing experience Stephen had ever had to face short of learning when some of them had died. It was not an experience he had cared to repeat, and yet, he recognised the fact that there may be a time some day, when he might just have to.


    "That makes two of us," he sighed gently, continuing to stroke her hair. "And we''ll find a way to fit in."

 Chapter 02: Linguistic skills

    02


    Linguistic Skills


    <hr>


    In a corridor just twenty meters away from Stephen''s impromptu medical room, John Malakhi had just left his own room. He had not managed to sleep well last night, although eventually, exhaustion overtook him. He was tired, and a little heart-sick. Marlon had been his mentor and friend for a very long time, despite their age differences.


    He couldn''t even face Helen at the moment. She was probably tearing herself to shreds right now, and John had no idea what to do to make her feel better. He sure as hell didn''t want to make her feel any worse.


    He didn''t have long to dwell on it once he had left his quarters, however. Edward Mensar, the old stalwart of the surviving refugees that they had picked up from Arizona, had just approached him.


    "Hello, young man," he said politely, using that rather puzzling English accent that John was surprised had survived down on the surface.


    John nodded. While he didn''t really feel like talking much at the moment, Edward was one of the most civilized and friendliest of the survivors John had encountered so far. He would make time for the man. "How you doin'' man?"


    "Good, thank you. Err..." Edward hesitated for a brief moment, brows frowning slightly in concentration. "Jonathan, isn''t it?"


    "Call me John, please!" John quickly corrected. His parents never gave him such a convoluted variety of name, and he wasn''t about to start adopting it now. "Edward, right?"


    "Indeed," Edward replied. "I wonder if I might trouble you for some advice?"


    John frowned. What possible advice could he give to an older man who had managed to survive in the deepest and darkest hell on Earth with his civility and humanity intact? "Sure, let''s take a walk. What''s up?"


    As they began walking to one of the centralized areas of the lunar complex, Edward took a moment, seemingly to formulate his thoughts. Eventually, he asked "How difficult is it to learn the dialect that your friends use?"


    John suppressed a laugh. "You mean our Tau Cetian friends?" At Edward''s nod, John continued. "It definitely don''t have Latin at it''s roots, I can tell ya!"


    Edward frowned a little. "No, I wouldn''t have thought so, considering they are from another planet."


    John nodded. "I gotta ask man... Why the sudden interest?"


    Edward pulled gently to stop John from walking any farther. "I fear that my usefulness as a tinkerer and occasional armchair therapist is mostly at an end. I need to find some other way to occupy my mind, and I would like to see if I can help when one of you aren''t around to translate what your friends are saying."


    John suspected that might not be the whole reason. Trust was a scarce commodity among the refugees of Earth, and even he could see that. Still, there likely was no harm in it. "I''ll discuss it with the others, and we''ll see what we can pull together. Gotta say, it''s not gonna be easy!"


    "I suspect it won''t be," Edward replied equably. "Still, nothing worth doing ever is."


    That was a sentiment that John had complete agreement with. "Sure. I''ll go-"


    "I gotta talk to you!"


    Both John and Edward were surprised to hear that weird English-Arizonan accent. Neither were pleased, each for similar, yet not completely identical reasons. Jason Mensar, Edward''s son, was standing at the end of the corridor, opposite the direction they had started walking. The lanky, awkward and gangly teenager was in a defiant pose, as though he was somehow a victim for being effectively shut out of all interaction between himself and his father.


    John felt no sympathy for the boy. Ever since his vicious and unprovoked assault on Stevie yesterday, John wanted nothing to do with the kid, and he suspected Edward was not happy with his son either. He was about to ask what Edward wanted to do, when Edward turned on his heel and started walking away from Jason.


    "Hey, no fuckin'' way, pops! That ain''t fair!"


    "What''s not fair," John snapped back at the boy. "is you assaulting someone without a reason!"


    "What the hell did I do for you to stop talkin'' to me?" Jason demanded of Edward, completely ignoring John.


    "Don''t ignore me, you little shit," John stood in Jason''s way, barring him from going near Edward.


    "Outta my way!" Jason started pushing at John, ineffectively given the difference in strength between the two.


    "I don''t think so," John stood his ground. "He clearly isn''t interested in talking to you right now-"


    "I don''t give a fuck-" Jason started, but John interrupted him.


    "So what?" The question had clearly brought the boy up short.


    "So I DON''T GIVE A FUCK!" he screamed.


    "What difference does that make?" John asked, in an edged yet moderate tone. "Great, you don''t give a fuck. Now who are you again?"


    "What?" Jason frowned, growing more irritated that neither of these men were responding to his behavior as he had expected them to. "No, FUCK YOU, MAN! I''M NOT SOME NOBODY-"


    "Actually, you are..." John said quietly, which he didn''t expect would work quite so quickly. "Just a nobody, that is."


    Edward frowned a little, and John surmised he might have a bit of explaining to do later. Jason was winding up to strike out at John, but while John was not a fighting man, he nonetheless knew enough combat techniques to know when to side step an attempted blow to the face. The guttural roar that Jason had given off was suddenly cut off as a Tau Cetian guard, who none of them had realised was in the area, had suddenly arrested Jason in a choke-hold that prevented him from moving anywhere or waving his arms around, but did not impede his ability to breathe.


    "BITCH!" Jason screamed out at the woman holding him. "GET OFF ME!"


    John spoke quickly in the Klankharii language in a low voice to the guard, asking her to sequester Jason in a room down the hall, and to keep it under guard until Edward - and he gestured to the man as he told her his name - requested he be released. The guard quickly replied that she did not know their language, and John quickly told her that Edward would know a brief phrase she would understand by that point. The guard took her prisoner off to the indicated room, leaving Edward and John in the corridor while Jason screamed blue murder all the way to his impromptu cell.


    "Edward, I hope you didn''t take offence at the way I just spoke to your son," John began.


    Edward was still frowning somewhat. "I admit, I am a bit concerned, yes."


    John nodded. "I get it. He''s your son, but he''s also got this idea in his head that he can do and say whatever he likes, and that everyone around him needs to get it."


    A slow nod was all the reply Edward gave him for a moment. "But to so harshly tell him he''s not even worth the value of a piece of dirt on the ground?"


    John sighed. He was worried about this. "Edward, that''s not what I meant. Will you please gimme a chance to explain?" Edward nodded sharply. "Alright. Here it is. So, right now, Jason has this idea in his head that he can go around doing what he wants. He doesn''t seem to care much about the effect it has on others. Maybe, deep down, that''s not true. Maybe he does care, but when he gets all defensive with that weird chip on his shoulder... Well... You know how it is.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "So what I did was to give him a short, sharp shock to the system. Edward, you should understand, and I hope you already do, but we''re individually nothing at all in the grand scheme of things. I''m nobody. You''re nobody. Every single person alive on this base is nobody. The people that rescued us, they''re all nobodies. When we stand alone, we''re nothing, nobody, and meaningless."


    John stopped at that point, not wishing to patronize Edward, instead preferring to allow the man to adjust to the concept that John was putting forth.


    "Alright, I''m with you," Edward replied quietly.


    "You put us all together, working as a whole, and we have a shot. It''s..." John stopped, taking a breath. Marlon''s death was a very difficult thing to process, especially as it was only yesterday he had died, but he needed to make the point to Edward, and to do that, he needed to talk about it. "It''s hard, sometimes, when you realize it, but we all, as individuals, can just suddenly..." He swallowed, averting his face for a moment, grinding his jaw. Now wasn''t the time to allow his grief to overwhelm him, so he mastered it, and while it coursed through him, he remained in control. Later, in private, he would get it out. He''d done it many times before. "You met Captain Greenf-field," he stopped, clearing his throat. "Right?"


    "John," Edward gripped the younger man''s shoulder. "I get it. And I think I get the point you are making. Allow me?" Unwilling to trust his voice at that moment, John merely nodded, swallowing hard against the tightness in his throat and the intense heat in his eyes. "At a universal scale, every individual life form is but a speck, a mote, insignificant and fleeting." Edward smiled sadly at that point. "I once saw an old documentary on stellar nucleosynthesis. No idea why I would remember that quote, but it resonated with me."


    John nodded sadly, allowing the tears to fall. "Kinda screwed up my explanation there, huh?" he gave a shaky laugh.


    Edward squeezed his shoulder again. "You remind me of my oldest son," he added, a hint of nostalgic sadness in his tone. "But I digress. You''re trying to make it clear that Jason needs to learn that he is not the center of the universe. You are also trying to clarify for me, that while in universal terms we really are nothing, that we all mean something to someone, and to certain people, we do mean everything... Right?"


    John nodded again. "Yeah," he said, letting out a shaky breath, finally able to control himself better.


    By this point, the Tau Cetian guard had come back. She noticed John''s face, a fleeting look of concern crossing hers before the sheen of professionalism resumed itself, and quickly told John that the young man was now sequestered in a holding area, that he would only be released at the instruction of the elder that was stood next to them both. John suppressed a snicker at Edward being referred to as an "elder", and simply nodded, expressing his thanks to her, before she politely excused herself and resumed her original post down the hall.


    "So, Edward," John turned back to the older man, wiping his eyes in the process. "About those language lessons, when do you want to start?"


    Edward''s face cleared of any lingering sadness. "As soon as possible!"


    <hr>


    Dammit, Walter Davidson thought to himself. He was exhausted, had little sleep as it was, and had just been advised that some little punk kid just tried attacking John in a corridor off of the primary octagonal near the surface elevator. It didn''t matter that John was more than able to sidestep the kid''s attack. This had to stop, and he needed to get a handle on it, right now. Mira had already had to go off doing some ship-board stuff, leaving him on the surface with all this shit.


    He was just getting on a fresh vest and jump suit, when the door to his temporary quarters resounded with a knocking pattern.


    "Yeah, who is it?" he barked.


    "Kovira," the female guard at his door replied. "Ship Commander Miradima has asked I alert you to her impending arrival at your location in the next two minutes. She has some announcements to make and wanted to discuss them with you first."


    Davidson sighed. Mira, can''t this wait? he thought to himself.


    She didn''t take two minutes to arrive. She didn''t even take half a minute. She arrived in a yellow-flash of the Tau Cetian''s teleportation technology the moment he had completed his thought.


    Here was Miradima, the Ship Commander in charge of the frigate named Kl''Deesius. That ship was simultaneously the setting of some of Davidson''s most treasured, and also some of his most dreaded, memories. It was a tough ship, one that had seen combat in their space in just the last half-a-week alone, and one of the only survivors. She, along with a single massive Tau Cetian destroyer, were the only two active ships left in the Sol system, and only the KlT''Horsukais had escaped relatively unscathed, having arrived at the last moment to assist with an enemy destroyer that had been intent on impacting the lunar complex to kill the survivors.


    The Kl''Deesius herself had been badly damaged in the defense of Earth''s last remnants, and would need time to complete repairs before she was capable of returning to Tau Cetian space.


    That meant Miradima, or as Davidson affectionately referred to her, Mira, would remain in their presence for a while longer.


    At this particular moment, he was ambivalent. On the one hand, he had this bullshit to deal with regarding this unwarranted attack by Earth survivors against his own crew... Yet on the other, he had an incredible, strong, intelligent, witty, honest, loyal, and dominant force of will that was his equal in all things save for she had command of his heart and soul.


    She won out with little resistance. How could she not? Mira was tall, powerfully-built with the kind of commonplace muscle definition that Tau Cetian people tended toward, and strangely soft all at once. It always amazed him that despite the clear strength and definition Tau Cetians had, women among their people still possessed a feminine curvature that female bodybuilders on Earth tended to lose when they piled on the muscle.


    The unfortunate comparison reminded him that there would be no such people among Earth''s population for a long time, if ever again. Practically everyone left alive was in a critical state of malnourishment, yet another of those problems he needed to discuss with Mira and the others. They all needed to get their shit wired if they were going to stand a chance of preventing humanity''s extinction.


    That was most likely why she was standing in the room with him now, though she could have easily pinged him a message to meet her anywhere in the complex.


    No, she was here, because she wanted some privacy before they had to deal with the pressing issues of the day.


    "I''m sorry I arrived unannounced, Walter," she greeted him softly, approaching him at a leisurely pace. "I wanted to have some time with you before we had to get to work."


    Her command of the English language was not always perfect, but it was always with a certain degree of fluency. At her most calm and centered, Mira could speak English as well as anyone Davidson had ever met. Only when she was under distress, tension, or angered, would she lose some degree of ability. It was with a great deal of embarrassment, that Davidson remembered the first time she had come close to losing her cool with him. It was entirely his own doing, and caused him to snort.


    Mira frowned, bemused. "Why the snort?"


    Davidson sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just remembering how we met."


    Mira almost barked a laugh out. She no doubt had a complex and conflicting view of those early days. "You were a real jerk, in those days," she laughed, though it was tinged with regret.


    The incident in question was during their first meeting aboard the Kl''Deesius. The vessel had greeted them as they approached the inner Tau Cetian system, and the Captain, Marlon Greenfield, had already conversed with Mira on many occasions. The first time Davidson had seen an image of Mira on screen, with her emerald-green eyes and slight purple-red tinged pale skin, he had not been ready to confront the reality that humans were not alone in the universe. The striking similarities to humans was so pronounced, the first thought that Davidson had entertained, was that someone from Earth had managed to break the Faster-Than-Light barrier and sent ships ahead of them to intercept. Then, when he realised that these people were not from Earth, his ability to be rational was somewhat messed up.


    The first time they were in a room together, Davidson had attempted to take Mira hostage, an act that he at first had justified as necessary, then accepted was not, then as he got to know Mira, had distressed him immensely, but has now settled into being a rather unpleasant and embarrassing episode he had almost wished never happened.


    Almost.


    After all, had he not attempted to do what he did, she might not have tried to reason with him in her own unique way, a way that had led to one-on-one sessions with him that allowed the two of them to get to know each others'' worlds, then each other personally. Neither of them suspected that they would ever reach the understanding they did, much less go beyond friendship, but it nonetheless happened, and their bond was now unshakeable.


    The incident also reminded Davidson of the man they had lost.


    Marlon was his Commanding Officer. He was also someone that Davidson did not always see eye to eye with. In those early days of the mission, Davidson had been unreasonable, and he could see that now. He had ben that way with all of the crew of the Tau Ceti.


    And in looking back on what had happened, it was easy to claim that making friends among the crew had cost them all dearly, now that the man was dead.


    But Davidson realised that such uncharitable thoughts were cowardly, and counter-productive. Marlon had continued to offer him friendship right up to the point of his death, and though Davidson had accepted before coming back to Earth, he found himself wishing he knew what he did now, so that he hadn''t been a jerk for so many months.


    Mira seemed to know what he was thinking, as she stepped up to him, and rubbed the side of his face.


    "I miss him too," she said gently. "He was the foundation that allowed us to build the trust that now holds us all together, and while he is no longer with us," she choked slightly on that last word, but valiantly continued anyway. "Everything he did to bring us all together will continue in what we do from now on."


    Davidson squeezed his arms around Mira''s shoulders as she rested her head against his. These moments they shared were even more precious to him, knowing that at any moment, they may never come again. Unbidden, he spoke a gentle phrase in Klankharii that he barely understood, yet memorized from a conversation he had heard between two Tau Cetian crew members... Crew members who were "unified", the Tau Cetian secular equivalent of marriage.


    Mira looked a little surprised, but that surprise gave way to a gentle smile. "I love you too, Walter."


    He sighed, relieved that he had guessed the translation correctly.

 Chapter 03: Defining the path

    03


    Defining The Path


    <hr>


    Two hours later that day


    "Alright, everyone," Davidson said in lieu of a greeting, as John, Mira and he entered the medical room that Stephen was currently sequestered in. Janet Fletcher was still present, looking slightly irritated for a reason that Davidson could only guess. Davidson dismissed it as irrelevant for now; this was an impromptu meeting called about an important and time-sensitive issue, and needed some level of agreement as to how to proceed going forward. "It''s time to try and restore some order now that the immediate threat has passed. Mira?"


    Mira took her cue to talk about her reports from her subordinate officers. "Our security teams are all in place among the population, and report a reasonable confidence that any issues can be contained if need be," she said in her musical accented English. "The survivors are all concerned about what is going to happen to them now, and there is a sense of growing agitation."


    "We need to address their concerns and let them know what is going to happen going forward," Davidson continued. "For the immediate and short-term, I''m declaring martial law over the entire facility, and will send out briefing packages to all security personnel on base. Spokespeople will be sent out to communicate with the different populations in the complex, and representatives will be brought together into a meeting in the octagonal hub, where we will begin outlining our plans to rebuild civilization. We will answer their questions to the best of our ability, but we will also make it clear that the survival of the species comes first."


    "How are we gonna do this?" John asked. Stephen frowned, but said nothing. Davidson was a little concerned at the younger man''s silence.


    "That''s what we''ve come here to discuss," Davidson told them both. "We need to decide how this is going to work. We can''t go into this without a plan, and that plan needs cooperation from those who have commanded a certain degree of respect from their representative groups. I''ve called for us all to meet in the hub later this evening, once everyone has been given an opportunity to clean up and eat."


    "Yeah, but Martial Law, already?" Stephen finally spoke up. "Is that really necessary?"


    Davidson leveled his gaze at Stephen, keeping his face neutral. While Davidson understood Stephen''s reluctance, and indeed shared it, he had to think about the future of the human race. "I''m afraid it is."


    "He''s right," John added his own support. "I don''t like it one bit, but while we are still trying to get ourselves in order, we need to make sure that any instructions we hand out are backed up by something with teeth. We can''t do that by trying to re-institute any of our old systems from home."


    "But that''s just going to drive people to go silent, off grid, join insurgent groups-"


    "Stephen''s right," Janet interjected, surprisingly lacking in harshness or volume in her tone. "But so are you, Davidson."


    "Yeah," Stephen began, and then stopped as he realized what Janet had added at the end. "Wait, what?!"


    "I think we should hear him out. He''ll probably do a better job explaining than I can."


    Stephen''s face registered naked shock, but he said nothing else, instead switching intermittently between looking at Janet, and at Davidson.


    "Here''s our immediate problem, everyone," Davidson continued, addressing the whole room. "We are bordering on less than a hundred thousand human beings left alive. Even allowing for the dreamland scenario that not a single one of them is killed soon, dies of illness, or is otherwise unable to contribute to the gene pool, and assuming all of them reproduced for the next generation, we are still looking at a severe deficiency in genetic material for the future. The less alive to repopulate the species this generation, the more likely that humanity will go extinct within a century. It''s that simple."


    Davidson had researched the matter with Mira earlier. He continued. "I''m not about to let that happen, so I''m going to do everything I can to ensure that the majority of us can survive. If that means we curtail people''s freedoms, then that''s the price we''ll have to pay for now."If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He expected some pretty strong objections. After all, he shared the sentiment that curtailing one''s freedom was tantamount to slavery, or stifled humanity''s spirit, and a variety of other reasons why such a move is ethically wrong. He realized however, that ethics was a secondary concern right now, and that society''s perceptions from his own time had to take a back seat to the needs of the species today.


    "I don''t even know where to start," Stephen said, clearly upset by this to the point that Davidson suspected he would start a pretty strong tirade, had he the strength. "It''s-"


    "Wrong? Yes. Necessary? Also yes-"


    "Is it?" Stephen barked with more strength than Davidson would have credited him with, given his injuries.


    "Stephen," Davidson strove for patience, something he always had trouble with. "For now, we have to make sure we are in a position to react quickly to any and all threats. That means we have to know exactly what those threats are, because, and I''m sure I''m not the only one to realize this, the threat to our continued existence isn''t just from those monsters that we just fought off, but from humans who have their own agenda and want to carry on whatever little power plays they had back on Earth.


    "In order for us to know what''s going on, we need to ignore people''s desire for privacy and freedom to some extent. Yes, it''ll drive some activity underground, and that''s precisely what we will be looking for. Groups going dark, individuals engaging in less frequent communication at certain times. Large amounts of blank data where you might normally expect day-to-day activity to take place among people."


    "Why don''t you start sticking cameras in the fucking toilets while you''re at it-"


    "Knock it off!" Davidson barked. "This is a serious problem and one that requires extreme measures."


    "You know, Hitler probably made the same argument!"


    Davidson glared at Stephen for several seconds, before responding as calmly as possible. "Yes, and thank you for comparing me to that Totalitarian bastard."


    "Well-"


    "Enough!" Mira barked. "This is not productive. Clearly, this is a very hot topic and one that can cause a lot of passion in those arguing for and against."


    "Not to mention we have no idea how we are going to enforce it," John said quietly. "Don''t get me wrong, Stevie," he added as Stephen glared at him. "I don''t like it any more than you do, but we need to get control of the situation. We can always rescind the order once we have finished with it."


    "To that end," Mira continued where John left off. "I will be speaking with my people today. I will propose we need a whole company of soldiers to handle security among the population, and I will also suggest relocating the populace to an outdoor world."


    This was news to Davidson, who quickly glanced at Mira in surprise. "An outdoor world?"


    She nodded. "People need a healthy environment. They need somewhere that supports their physiology, as well as a secure location that they can begin to feel safe in. The Realm has had centuries of experience in dealing with our enemy, and we know how to restore a planet. The... Terraforming... Project I spoke of before, this is something I intend to petition my people for as soon as possible. In the meantime, everyone will need some place to stay that is not embedded in a rock that needs a supply chain from another star system in order to survive in."


    Davidson supposed this made sense, and nodded slowly. "Alright, I''m in. We''ll call a meeting in four hours. It should give us enough time to spread the news to everyone and give them time to select a representative for each group. Then, we''ll lay it out on the table."


    "Wait," Stephen spoke up. "How long are we going to be doing this?"


    Davidson frowned. "Doing what, exactly?" He asked. When Stephen didn''t immediately answer, he continued. "Stephen, we need to establish order, and we need to do it quickly. Until such time as we have established a strong military force able to maintain order with the populace, we haven''t the luxury of civilian rules and laws. I have no intention of keeping martial law in effect indefinitely. There will come a day, and it will be within all our lifetimes, that a civilian government will be formed, for which the military will share joint responsibility."


    "I still don''t like it," Stephen said after a few moments. "But I guess it''s what we need right now."


    Davidson decided not to state the obvious answer to that comment. "One thing that will definitely stand far beyond our lifetimes though, is a unified government."


    "Meaning?" John asked, his face a picture of puzzled curiosity.


    "Meaning that the territorial disagreements of old civilization are now going to be a thing of the past," Janet spoke up, showing a keen insight that no-one expected her to have. In fact, it caught Davidson by surprise.


    "That''s exactly it," he said after a long pause to gather his thoughts.


    "Good," she said quietly. "I have no problem with this. It''s time we all started acting like people instead of tribal groups."


    Davidson nodded. "Alright," he said by way of moving on. "We''re going to have to stay here and discuss what happens next. Does anyone want to go see if Helen is up to joining us? She''s going to be affected by all this just as much as we are."


    No-one looked forward to intruding on her privacy.

 Chapter 04: We all must talk

    04


    We all must talk


    <hr>


    The wide-open octagonal spike linking all areas of the lunar complex together, was the meeting point for every representative that was tasked with speaking for their respective population groups. The Tau Cetians, despite having limited numbers of people to carry out the task of providing protection and ensuring order, relied upon the sealable nature of the complex in order to keep the numbers of individuals in the central area down to only those needed to speak for their groups. It made things less fraught with tension, but only to a limited degree.


    Now, it was time to get everyone''s opinions on the table, and let everyone in the complex know what was at stake for the future of humanity. Davidson had called the time of the meeting, and ensured that people had enough time to call representatives from each of the groups housed in the complex.


    The time of the meeting arrived, and the octagonal space was filled with participants. In the inner circle stood Davidson, Stephen, John, Ship Commander Miradima, and an accompaniment of Tau Cetian people among their number. The Tau Cetians would keep quiet, looking over the proceedings, while Davidson and his crew would preside over the discussion.


    "Thank you all for attending," Davidson began. He had been coached extensively over the last few years on how to vocalize what he needed to talk about, and he had no idea that the skill would be needed for something like this. "As I''m sure many of you are aware, we are no longer on Earth.


    "I called you all here, because we need to talk about what will happen to our species in the future. As many of you have experienced, we have a very powerful enemy to contend with. No-one-"


    "What enemy are you talking about?" an obnoxious, deep yet weasel-sounding voice issued from close to the central zone of the gathering. "I''m sure you''ve noticed we have several."


    Davidson narrowed his eyes, looking toward the source of the voice. To him, it sounded like it was from the East coast of the United States. "I''ll ask now, that you hold all of your questions and remarks until the end. I''ll field questions after I''ve explained our situation to you."


    Thankfully, the antagonist did not speak up again at that moment. Davidson continued.


    "Again, as many have no doubt experienced, we have a very powerful enemy." This time, he paused, gauging people''s reactions. He was met with stares. Some of them were skeptical. Others were downright unconvinced. Many were nodding, no doubt having seen what Davidson was referring to. "In addition to this enemy, which I''ll provide more information on at a later time, we also have to contend with the fact that Earth cannot harbour life for the long term while the atmosphere is in its current state."


    "What are you talking about?" another from the same cluster of people asked derisively. "We''re alive, aren''t we?"


    "How long do you think that would have lasted?" Janet suddenly retorted heatedly. Davidson winced. This situation had the potential of getting out of control quickly. "Did you get a good look around you when you were down there?"


    When there was no answer, Janet glared at every one of the people in front of her. It was clear that she was keeping her temper in check.


    "Well? Did you?"


    "What''s there to look at?" the speaker retorted. "Lotta rubble is all I saw-"


    "Exactly!" Janet almost bit the man''s head off. "Rubble. Trash. Skeletons of buildings long past their collapse. But where was the last place you saw anything green?"


    There was a momentary pause, before anyone spoke up again. "Well, I saw an oil container that still had flecks of green on it..."


    Davidson had to use all of his willpower to stop from laughing at the absurdity of the comment he had just heard.


    "Not what I meant!" Janet snapped back at the man. "Grass! Trees! Bushes! When was the last time you saw one of those?!"


    "What are those?" the same man asked.


    Davidson could hardly credit what he was hearing. It was highly unlikely that all plant-life had completely died out more than thirty years before, and this individual looked like he was at least that old. "This is getting us nowhere," he interrupted before Janet could respond to the man, causing her to glare at him. He ignored it. "If you need reminding of what the ecosystem should have in it, then we can do something about that."This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Davidson then pointedly ignored questions such as "what''s an ecosystem" as this would otherwise take essential time that they needed planning the next stages. "Here''s what I want to do next.


    "I want you all to select a representative from your group who can read and write, who speaks both English and whatever native language you all speak, and who can control themselves in a heated discussion. Once you have that representative, have them all move to the front of the zone here, and we will begin arranging a meeting to discuss what needs to happen first."


    It took several minutes, with a lot of jostling and heated remarks, but eventually, almost a dozen people were arrayed in front of Davidson.


    "Of all those now standing in front of me, are any of you functioning in a leadership role?"


    Only one of them confirmed that they were indeed in charge.


    "The rest of you, arrange for your group leaders to join us up front."


    <hr>


    Once everyone was organized into their respective groups, and the leaders of each respective group, along with their translators, were all present, Davidson was finally able to conduct his meeting.


    "Thank you all for your participation," he began.


    "I''ll get straight to the point. We are facing a crisis. Our entire species is now endangered, and if we don''t do something to repair the damage soon, then humanity ends with the current generation." He paused, giving time for all of the translators to finish explaining their words to their colleagues. "Our home planet has been terribly damaged by our wars and our unchecked abuse of the environment. By that, I mean the air we breathe, the water we drink, the plants we should have been seeing, all of that is no longer able to keep us alive.


    "All of you are now in an emergency shelter designed to keep us alive for a short period of time only, and so we must decide what we need to do now, to fix things, and we must decide quickly."


    Davidson knew that someone would be compelled to speak up at this point, and he left enough time for everyone to have that chance. It was only fair at this stage, that people get their concerns and fears out at this stage, in order to settle them down enough for what he was about to announce.


    "Much of what you speak is beyond our understanding," a man with an East Asian accent spoke, translating for his colleague, an older man who looked battle hardened yet non-confrontational. Davidson suspected he was from China, maybe even one of the Korean nations. "I understand this. Our world is dying. We are in a shelter to protect us. We do not know where, but you tell us we do not have long to act before we can no longer stay here. Is this right?" Davidson nodded. The translator nodded back in acknowledgment. "What can be done?" he asked, translating the question for his colleague immediately afterward. The older man nodded sharply.


    "Much can be done to prevent this from becoming the end of our race," Davidson replied with conviction. "It will ask for much of us. We will all have to change how we are used to living."


    "Please," one of the other representatives spoke up in somewhat timid a fashion. "You mention changes. What do you mean?"


    Davidson acknowledged the questioner with another nod. "How would you describe the way you have lived your lives so far?" he asked in return.


    After a brief discussion, the questioner responded with a rather harrowing tale of survival in a world where scavenging was all that anyone could do to ensure their survival, where infant morality rates were close to the high nineties percentage, where the average life expectancy was a person''s thirties, and where no-one ever reached the age of fifty any longer. It was clear that this experience was mirrored right across the surviving populations represented in the room.


    Having access to even the basic emergency infrastructure in the lunar complex must have seemed like luxury in comparison.


    Taking the time to hear everyone out, Davidson addressed each translator in turn, asking them all the exact same question. The story was the same for everyone.


    "I''ll begin by pointing out the good news for you all," he began, pausing each time to allow the translators to do their job. "You will no longer need to scavenge, or fear for where your next meal will come from, or how to stay clean and healthy. All of your basic needs will be taken care of, from today forwards."


    "Why would you do this?" one of the English-speaking members of the group demanded, not even waiting for the other groups to finish translating.


    Davidson did not answer immediately, but held up a hand to give time for the translators to finish. Only one other representative echoed the question at that point.


    "We''re doing this, because too many people have died trying to survive the way you have all lived so far.This cannot continue, so we''re changing things to make sure we all survive."


    "So what''s the catch?" Someone with an accent from the East Coast of America demanded forcefully. "No-one does anything unless they want something in return!"


    Davidson waited for the translation that he knew the others had made of the speaker''s statement before answering.


    "You are right," Davidson said firmly. "In return, we need you to all work together to secure our future. We aren''t giving anyone a choice. You either work with us, or you don''t get to benefit from our accomplishments."


    "What does that mean?"


    "You''ll get specifics when we are ready to communicate them to you all," Davidson barked at the speaker, sick of the man''s insistence at not giving the others a chance to translate their exchange. "We are in it for our survival, people. This is not up for discussion, the decision has been made. You will abide by the rules that will be set down from today forward, whether you like it or not, and if you disrupt this meeting again, I''ll have you thrown out."


    "Don''t bother," the American said. "We''re leaving."


    And with that, three people stormed out of the general area. Davidson took no chances, and immediately turned to one of the Tau Cetian guards-people. "Have them watched at all times," he spoke quickly but quietly in the Tau Cetian dialect their people used.


    "Yes Davidson," the guard replied tersely, and departed immediately. Davidson continued the meeting, promising to work on the details of their next steps and to have everything ready to tell them all in two days.

 Chapter 05: Machinations

    05


    Machinations


    <hr>


    While the core group of humans attempting to preserve humanity were continuing their discussion, another meeting took place elsewhere. This one was far more covert than the meeting among the erstwhile leadership that was now in charge of the colony of survivors manning the lunar complex.


    This meeting was between less than a dozen of the survivors, all huddled in a closed door meeting in one of the population sleeping zones that had been designated during the time they were all transported. Everything that had happened to the survivors so far in the lunar complex was a sore point among these people, and those of like-mind.


    The nature of the meeting meant that no names were discussed. One of the attendees, a man who designated himself with the letter A, forcefully interjected himself among the group when it was clear to him, that these were dissatisfied with what was happening in the complex. It was an opportunity he took with enthusiasm, and a certain disdain for the perceived lack of intelligence among these survivors.


    He was different from the others, for while he had the skinny, emaciated appearance of the survivors around him, he was naturally built that way. For him, his appearance was less malnutrition, and more metabolism. It also meant his development was far more advanced than those he now shared a room with. The reason was simple. He, like a very small number of other survivors wrest from the Earth, had a comfortable existence in sealed-off shelters that had never been exposed to the surface in more than fifty years since the first warnings of nuclear attack had sounded. He had never suffered the depredations of surface life as the others in the room had suffered, and he never would have. If anyone was really paying attention to him, his appearance, while seemingly as hardened as the others surrounding him, was the result of more than fifty years of climate-controlled living, rather than a scant twenty-thirty years of hard survival on the surface. If anyone was paying attention, they would have noticed the lack of conditions such as rickets, deficiencies in everything other than exposure to Vitamin D from the sun, and they would have noticed that his teeth were far too clean, even if they were not as perfectly aligned as American orthodontistry would have demanded pre-war.


    But no-one had noticed. The survivors did not pay much attention to the differences at the time because they lacked the focus and the curiosity that was needed, and because he offered them something they badly wanted.


    Someone to blame for all of their problems.


    As for the returning members of the mission that had obviously been sent out over fifty years before, Agent A did not know why they had not noticed, or maybe they had, and they kept it to themselves. Either way, he intended to capitalize on their lack of attention.


    His intellect would be comparable to any one of those pompous assholes that had lived a life of luxury aboard their spacecraft. He had the political instincts of a finely honed, if inexperienced, political figure from the United States of America back in the twenty-first century, and the guile of a covert operative. Both of these were taught to him by his father, the only member of his family to have survived long enough to get to their custom-built shelter, and the man who taught him how to blend in with the topside survivors if their shelter environment had ever been compromised.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    But the shelter was practically impenetrable from anything short of a direct missile strike, which had never happened. Such fortunate happenstance was because his location had been kept off the records, not even allowed to be revealed to the intelligence community his father had been a part of, such was the innate paranoia of the man.


    Most likely, this was what had made him a superlative covert operative when there was such a thing as the Central Intelligence Agency. It was also what made him start planning to build their fallout shelter, almost two years in advance of the attacks. He knew which way things were going even before the foundations had been laid for the ship that had last departed the Sol system. A did not know the exact details, only that five ships had successfully departed the system, and only one had come back so far.


    Had he been left undisturbed in his bespoke shelter, he would have had enough provisions to last his remaining life, which would have gone on for another fifty or sixty years with his carefully-controlled exercise and dietary regimen, without ever having to venture on to the surface. He had been alone for a few years, since his father had passed on, and he preferred it that way.


    But then the returning humans changed all of that.


    One minute, he was sat comfortably in his shelter, enjoying a little time to himself, watching via the few remaining satellites in Earth orbit what was going on on the surface, the next, he found himself in another concrete shelter, with none of the creature comforts he had grown accustomed to, suddenly surrounded by masses of bodies, all afraid out of their minds.


    His response was much like the others at first. The surprise and shock at the sudden change of location caused him to have the first bout of panic he had ever been aware of. He quickly mastered it, though, and began assessing his environment. It didn''t take long to fit in with the others, and start to absorb whispered conversations among those around him. This allowed him to get up to speed on what the hell was going on.


    Now, he had plans. He was going to build himself a miniature plutocracy, with himself as the central figure, and a circle of lackeys he could call upon to be the public face of his machinations.


    He was going to take control, and overthrow these space humans, and then he was going to expel the aliens from their system.


    "No names in this meeting," A told the others. "Call me A. No, that''s not an initial for my real name." He then pointed to each of them in turn. "B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J and K." He then looked at each of them again. "Remember these initials well, people, because we will not be using anything else to identify ourselves from this point forward. If you cannot abide by these conditions, get out of this room now, and I''ll find someone to replace you."


    He waited, somewhat impatiently. While he knew that some of these people needed time to process what he was saying to them due to diminished mental capacity thanks to a lifetime of malnutrition and a complete absence of a formal education, he didn''t like it nonetheless. Of course, he would be a poor covert agent in the old world if he gave away his impatience.


    Eventually, everyone seemed to understand, and they all slowly nodded. It was just as well that these people were all from the non-coastal areas of the United States. People from Washington D.C had already been wiped out more or less utterly, when the second wave of nuclear attacks took place. Most of the West Coast were unlikely to be receptive to his ideas, and might actively attempt to interfere with his plans, and so he had made sure to avoid their presence here, today. Those in attendance today represented some of the strongest physically that he could dredge up from the dregs in the shelter, while also being some of the least intelligent. As frustrating as it was to have to deal with people you had to hand hold through everything, it meant they were less likely to question or countermand his orders.


    "Good," he told them. "As of this moment, we are the resistance."

 Chapter 06: Reflections

    06


    Reflections


    <hr>


    The following morning


    The beginning of the next day was almost uneventful for the core group among the survivors. There would be a meeting in the morning to decide the logistics of moving everyone from the moon onto spacecraft journeying to Tau Ceti, and then from those ships onto the surface of their selected garden planet. It didn''t take a genius to arrive at the conclusion that one of the Tau Cetian garden world was going to be selected for the surviving Earth population, and it took no time at all for Stephen to reach that conclusion as he was carefully escorted out of his medical bed to the small meeting room adjacent to the infirmary that he was allocated for his own use.


    Having broken ribs and a fractured thigh bone was the worst.


    Surprisingly to Stephen, it took Janet even less time to conclude that they were going to be sent to a garden planet to recuperate, rebuild and recover. She was intelligent, she had proven that to him on numerous occasions, but she still surprised him with her insight. Clearly, long-term borderline malnutrition had not dulled her intelligence so much that she was simple-minded by anyone''s stretch of the imagination.


    Of course, to Stephen''s embarrassment, she insisted on helping him with any lifting that needed, escorting him under her own weight to any place he needed to get, since he still had trouble walking very far, and she did it without complaint, despite the fact that Stephen could literally feel her shaking with the strain of supporting his weight, for while he was not a heavy person, he was much heavier than the emaciated population that had come from Earth.


    "How do you do it?" Stephen was compelled to ask after Janet had, once again, walked him from the Infirmary to the meeting room, which was empty, as they were early.


    "Do what?" Janet asked as she deposited him in a seat.


    "Carry me around like that!" Stephen exclaimed. "I weigh about two ten, and I''m pretty sure you top out at about a hundred if that. You haven''t had time to rebuild your muscle tissue with proper nutrients-"


    "Stephen," Janet held up a hand. "Most of what you''re saying right now is beyond me, but I carry you because you need the help, and I''m not going to be the one to sit around while others do it."


    This puzzled Stephen. It wasn''t like Janet was his personalcare assistant, and they had known each other for days, not years. Budding friendship or not, Stephen was not comfortable with the idea of Janet acting as his personal caregiver. "You know, it''s not like others aren''t able to step in-"


    "Stephen-" Janet spoke up, clearly flustered.


    "No, wait a minute," he continue, ignoring her attempt to interrupt. "Most of the people from the surface are in bad shape. You''ve had to survive on scraps... For years. I''ve had all of my basic needs taken care of for most of my life. If anyone should be carrying anyone else here, I should be carrying you."


    Janet took the seat next to his. She was clearly making an effort to rein in her hot-headed temperament. "I need to feel useful," she eventually told him.


    In that moment, Stephen got it. As she had tried to explain to him a few days ago, she was a hardened leader in command of a colony of shelter survivors on a world where she had managed to organize everyone into a cohesive force in a world where survival meant scavenging and pillaging where possible, where resource scarcity was so large a concern, that civilization was all but impossible, and where survival meant either banding together in a fortified bunker with the willingness to kill to defend, or to be the one doing the pillaging. Her transition to a member of a surviving group of humans in a shelter that was capable of providing basic human needs, even if on a short-term basis, was something of a reality check for her. She was desperately trying to find a place where she could fit in that did not require her completely transforming who she was, and for now, it meant finding a way to feel useful until she could understand the new paradigm, and then work within it to better herself.


    "I get it," Stephen said gently, admiring her spirit. "And we''ll find a way for you to make something of yourself in this new world. With so few of us left, everyone needs to play a part, and I think you''ll be a good leader."


    Impulsively, Janet seized Stephen''s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He basked in the feeling it caused to swell within him, as he smiled at her in response. All too soon, she let go, and let out a deep sigh. "We''re going to have a problem with those guys out there," she said, then clarified. "The ones who walked off."


    Stephen was all too aware. "I think you should talk to Davidson about that later," he told her. "I suspect he''s going to want to teach you how to deal with the situation."


    "Yeah," she huffed slightly. "I''m not looking forward to that."


    Stephen was surprised. "No?"


    Janet glanced at him, and then clarified hurriedly. "It''s not that he''s a bad guy, it''s just that he''s... Larger than anyone I''d ever met."


    Stephen realized that was true. Davidson was almost as tall as he was, far broader, and carried exponentially more definition and mass. He was what his old society might have regarded as a Mr. Olympia competition winner, his body appearing sculpted. Even though Tau Cetians were far more physically developed than humans, Davidson was unique in that he was just as large, with as much definition as the vast majority of them. Janet would never have met anyone larger than Davidson.


    "I guess it can be daunting, when you come from a world where physical prowess is often seen as critical to survival," Stephen ventured his opinion. "Try not to worry. He''s a professional, and he doesn''t use his size to get things done.. Well... Unless he needs to lift heavy objects, of course!"


    A few minutes later, Janet was on her way to see Davidson. Hopefully, she could have a quick conversation with him before their meeting began. It would ease her mind to know that she was at least on her way to getting what she needed to adjust to their changed circumstances.


    She saw him in the octagonal meeting space they all had met in earlier, surrounded by a small group of Tau Cetians, and some surviving Earth folk just milling around.


    "Davidson!" She barked, and winced when she subsequently realized he might not like her barking orders at him.


    Thankfully, his demeanour, while not overtly friendly, certainly carried no hint of hostility or confrontation. He turned to her slowly, handing a relatively thin contraption to the Tau Cetian man he was talking to.


    "Fletcher, isn''t it?" Davidson asked her in a neutral tone.


    Janet nodded. "Is there a-any way we can talk for a-a minute?" She stammered, mentally kicking herself for doing so. It amazed her, that she was previously running a fallout shelter with thousands of people in it, in charge of all of them, with armed guards behind her back, where she had to project an aura of confidence, self-assuredness, and for the most part, a chiseled and hardened facade of authority. Now, she was stammering like a kid in a shooting class on her first day.


    Davidson gestured with his big hand toward a side door in the facility, walking casually toward it. Janet immediately followed. In a few moments, they were both standing in a bare room with nothing in it, save for a few stacks of provisions boxes of the sort that Janet had not seen in decades. the door slowly closed behind her as she entered.


    "What''s on your mind?" Davidson asked politely.


    Now that Janet was here, she didn''t know how to phrase her request. Here she was, in a room with a man... A large one at that. Before being shunted to the moon, she had some degree of protection, either a knife, or her environment that she could scavenge something to fashion into a shiv, or her guards... Or even a weapon of some kind she could use to fight back. Now, she was in a room with someone who was clearly able to overpower her in a heartbeat, a man she knew very little about, and she had no backup, no weapons, and nothing close to hand that she could use to defend herself. Her heartbeat kicked up, adrenaline flooded her system, and she felt threatened. Her association with Stephen was something she had grown comfortable with for reasons she could not understand herself... But this man was an unknown quantity, and she had grown up on a world where things like consent meant almost nothing without the threat of death to back it up if it was ever breached.


    It must have shown, because Davidson took a slow step backward, his expression carefully neutral, until he was up against the far wall. Janet was right by the door, an escape if she needed one.


    The gesture was not lost on her, and she felt able to relax somewhat.


    "I won''t rush you," he told her gently. "Tell me what you need."


    To Janet''s surprise, he said nothing, betraying no impatience, even though it took her several more moments to speak. Bravado in this situation was not called for, and she knew it. This was a time to speak plainly. She just needed to work herself up to doing so, and decided to simply get on with it.


    "I need a lot of things," she started. "But the first thing I need is a place where I belong. I need something I can put myself into."Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    "You feel out of place here, in the group, in the shelter, and you need to find your place among the rest of us, as well as some way of improving yourself," Davidson replied almost immediately. "Am I right?" he asked carefully.


    Janet nodded slowly. She still felt the flight-or-fight adrenaline screaming through her system, but she had mastered the impulse, and could think clearly. "Yeah," she finally admitted.


    "Would it help to tell you that I once felt a little out of place among my peers?" Davidson asked, surprising Janet. She shrugged. "Two years ago, while we were just starting our mission in the Tau Ceti system, I was a very different person. I was... Not easy to get along with, and I think I might have been a little paranoid as well. One day, we were all in a meeting to discuss terms of trade between Earth and Tau Ceti... We didn''t know what was going on back here at the time."


    Janet acknowledged his remark with a nod. "I guess if you were so far away, you couldn''t have known," she remarked in a neutral tone, wanting to move past that point. "So, you were in a meeting?"


    "Yeah," Davidson sighed. "What you don''t know about me is that I was trained as a soldier. I was trained to kill people, and later in my career, to find ways to break into machines and put them to my own use. By the time I got promoted to Lieutenant, I was a soldier, through and through. I wasn''t really suited to a mission to explore foreign star systems and communicate with any life we found out there. I took on the job because my knowledge of breaking cryptographic systems was better than most service people, and I was top of my unit for combat skills. The military decided I would be an excellent candidate for defending a ship against boarding actions, the space agency decided I was an excellent candidate for carrying out code breaking, and I signed on because the pay was beyond anything else I had ever been offered. It set my family up for life."


    None of the stuff that Davidson had just said about pay, or encryption, was something that Janet was able to understand. Currency was long dead by the time she was born, and systems hacking was something that only people like Edward were really knowledgable about. Soldiering... That was something she understood. She might not have had a comprehensive training regimen like Davidson had, nor did any of the people she grew up with... But she knew how to fight, to organize, and to defend herself. Rather than interrupt, she kept her thoughts to herself.


    "Having to leave everyone behind that I had ever known was harder on me than I ever thought it would be. I never realized until a few years ago just how much that meant to me, to my sanity, or my well being. And knowing that everyone I had left behind was long dead by the time I woke up was tough to deal with, even without knowing how the world went to hell.


    "All in all, it affected me in ways I didn''t understand all too well at the time."


    Janet felt uncomfortable in the pause that followed. "What happened?" she prompted.


    "I attacked the Tau Cetian representing the group."


    Janet''s eyes went wide. "What?"


    Davidson nodded. His face was passive, neither apologetic nor defiant. "It wasn''t my finest moment," he continued. "I attacked the representative sent to meet us during our meeting. Then I took her hostage. If she wasn''t so good at fighting back, and if Stephen wasn''t prepared with a stun weapon, it could have ended in a really ugly shoot-out that would have left me dead, and my colleagues either in prison or facing execution."


    Even in her rough-and-ready environment on Earth, Janet could never imaging committing an attack against someone who was meeting with them to trade goods. It was underhand, and even with the life she had led, she understood that point very well.


    Edward made sure of it.


    Davidson continued. "In the end, she tricked me into either working with her, or spending the rest of the mission into a cold-sleep capsule to be taken back to Earth and tried for attempted kidnapping."


    "How?" Janet asked. Whoever this Tau Cetian woman was, she was someone Janet would like to know.


    "She orchestrated a scene where it appeared I was being kidnapped myself, and then interrogated. I won''t go into details, but in the end, my CO had everything monitored, and they both laid it all on the line for me."


    "What happened next?" Janet asked, curious. This part of Davidson was new, and while she knew little about the man, his past was somewhat disconnected from the persona he projected now.


    "Weekly meetings with the Tau Cetian woman I attacked were set up."


    Janet was taken aback. "I imagine she didn''t like that," Janet commented, incensed that the situation mandated an attack victim would be forced to interact with her attacker. Davidson''s next comment set her assumptions completely out of touch.


    "She insisted on it," he said, not bothering to hide his obvious surprise. Something else in his tone hinted at something else. Janet could not guess, and at the moment, she didn''t want to. Davidson nonetheless continued. "She told us all that she wanted to build bridges between our two people, and the most direct way to do that would be to prove several of my assertions wrong."


    Janet didn''t quite understand what Davdison meant by "assertions", but kept quiet about her lack of understanding. She would ask Edward later, assuming he knew. Or maybe Stephen would know. "What were they?"


    Davidson lifted a hand to his chest as he counted off on his fingers. "First, that Tau Ceti had the intention of sending an envoy to our planet under the guise of trade and diplomacy while covertly trying to ascertain our weaknesses."


    Janet supposed that was possible, and definitely something that humans have been known to do. Why not other life in the galaxy?


    "Second," Davidson continued. "That our mission to the Tau Ceti system was a prelude to an invitation to conquer our planet."


    Janet was not a stranger to wild claims by any of the shelter''s inhabitants when she was in charge. Edward''s son, Jason, was one such individual. In his case, he was completely right in his claim of a possession back on Earth, and the thought of anything like that ever happening to them again frightened the life out of her. However, many of the others she had heard were nothing more than the delusional rantings of people who could not live in the reality of their situation.


    "Davidson, that..." Janet sought to use words that would not anger the man, given his immense size and stature.


    "Believe me when I say I get it. Delusional thinking at it''s finest," he said, chuckling to himself. Janet was stunned that he was so accepting of the label she dared not to speak aloud. "Let''s just say I was right on the edge of a severe mental break at the time, with the realization I would never be seeing anyone I had ever known again, and being stuck in a tin can for the next two years or so, it was more than I could handle. Captain Greenfield said it himself when he asked why I was allowed on the mission in the first place..." Davidson suddenly had a faraway look in his eyes that held a certain sadness.


    Greenfield. That was the name of the Captain who had never come back from their fight in space. Janet was painfully aware of his absence, and while she had known the man only a few days, she could see the closeness that he had with the others that had come back. While Davidson may have been antagonistic toward the man two years ago, he certainly wasn''t today.


    "So," Janet asked, attempting to change the subject slightly. "Weekly meetings. How did they go?"


    Davidson sighed as he let his arm fall back down to his side. "At first, I hated every single one of them. For the first few weeks, I kept telling myself that I was just gathering intelligence, that I was going to blow open the whole cover-up. For weeks, I was convincing myself that if I could just expose the face behind the facade of friendly trade negotiations, I would have vindicated myself and possibly saved humanity from an existential alien threat." Davidson paused, and Janet refrained from any kind of prompting. He looked like he needed to get his story out. "Facing one''s own over-inflated sense of self-importance doesn''t come easy to someone like me."


    "What happened?" Janet asked after a moment of silence. "What changed?" she clarified.


    "I can''t say for sure when I realized I was kidding myself," Davidson replied ruefully. "I guess it was when she told me more about herself. I remember one of the stories she told me was when she first took command of a ship of the same class as the one we were all aboard a few days back. That first time," Davidson stopped to laugh a little, surprising Janet. "She told me that she had made a critical error when ordering entry into another system on a patrol run. There was a report of a squadron of ships opening fire on others passing through the region, and she was ordered to investigate. When she got there, she encountered five ships, all armed heavily, and all targeting her vessel. They sent a message, but it was in some language she knew little of at the time. She opened fire on their ships and destroyed them all, then headed back to report the incident."


    Janet was confused by this story. It seemed like a skirmish with armed opponents that had targeted the vessel. What was the critical error here?


    "Turns out that the vessels were the only available patrol ships from the system that had been besieged, and she had wiped out the last line of defense."


    Janet would have been shocked, if similar stories hadn''t abounded from other areas on Earth during her time on the surface. She supposed that this kind of lack of forward thinking was prevalent no matter where you were from. "And she''s still in command of a ship?"


    Davidson shrugged, as though sympathizing with her point. "Yeah, well her record before this time was spotless, and she immediately handed herself over for disciplinary action as soon as she had realized her error. For a few years, she had lost the command of her vessel, and was required to re-run all of her previous training again, to make the point that she jumped too soon to a conclusion... Just like I did. It was then, I realized, she was as flawed as I was, and she made no effort to pretend otherwise in all our prior meetings."


    "What does she do now?" Janet asked.


    Davidson gave a small, one-sided smile. "You should know... You met her."


    Janet''s eyes went wide in shock. This was completely out of nowhere. Miradima was the one that Davidson had attacked, then attended meetings with? And if what she had observed was any indication, they were on very friendly terms with each other! "The Commander of the ship that rescued us from the planet?"


    Davidson nodded slowly. "Yeah, one thing led to another, and before we knew it, we were close friends. Now... We''re more than that... Not that I care to go into it without speaking with her first."


    Janet supposed not. Her decision to go public with her association with Stephen a few days ago was borne out of necessity, and she was far from comfortable discussing it with anyone else. If anyone understood Davidson''s reticence in discussing those kinds of interpersonal relationships, she did. "I get it," she said quietly. "I do. I''m not..."


    After a moment, Davidson replied to ease Janet''s hesitation. "It''s between the two of you. If you both wanted to tell anyone else the details, then you would have done so. It''s your business," he assured her. "Point is, all of us have had to make adjustments to fit in to what we realized were our new lives. I may have lost everyone I ever knew back on Earth, but I''m sure as hell not the only one, and what I lost, I also gained. John and Stephen are friends of mine as well, although I doubt any of them will ever be truly at ease around me, and I have Mira. I also have a new purpose. Earth is going to need an army of its own, as well as a fleet navy in space, and we will need to make sure it''s properly staffed. I''ll have my hands full with that task... Probably for the rest of my life."


    This of course brought them full circle. Janet initially came here to talk to Davidson about her lack of a place to fit in to their attempts to rebuild civilization. She sighed heavily. "I still have to find a place of my own."


    "So think about these things," Davidson suggested. "Make a note of everything you have felt the most confident in yourself about. Note everything you feel less sure about in another column. Somewhere in all of these things will be the answer, and having someone else to look at it with you will mean someone who can give a fresh perspective... Maybe spot what you haven''t yet seen for yourself."


    Janet knew this would be good advice, and nodded.


    And so, for the next few hours, they set about looking at what Janet could do well, and what she needed to work on. Davidson promised to look over all of this with her again at some point in the not too distant future, once they dealt with the next series of discussions with the other survivors.

 Chapter 07: Crossroads

    07


    Crossroads


    <hr>


    Lunar Day 3, First Year of the Exodus.


    Sitting in his own private room, John was concerned for his fellow crew members.It had been three days since they were deposited on the surface of the Moon, and while things were starting to move forward with respect to their situation, John was not blind to the consequences of past events. Davidson was still trying to adjust to being the one in charge of their group following Marlon''s death. He was not the most sociable person, and John had some doubts about his ability to hold it together at one time, but he seems to be doing fine right now, and he had the support of Ship Commander Miradima to get through the trials he now faced.


    This was more than Helen now had. The one person she had staked her emotional support needs on was now dead. She was now without her own life partner, and it had taken it''s toll on her psyche.


    Any idiot could see that.


    Since Davidson and Miradima had materialized on the surface three days ago, and delivered the news that everyone in their small group had never expected to hear, Helen had withdrawn from all contact with anyone, choosing instead to isolate herself in a small room that was situated as far from any connecting zones as possible. No-one was likely to need to go to it, and the only people that might choose to do so would be those that had need to talk to her, or who had ulterior motives for traversing that section of the complex, such as thieves or those looking for trouble. Despite isolating herself from everyone and refusing to speak with any of the others, Helen still had the protection of the guard.


    Miradima had seen to that. While the Tau Cetian guard was deployed within the structure of the sub-lunar base, Helen would not be bothered by anyone without a valid reason to talk to her.


    John could see that Miradima was also affected by this. She had known Captain Marlon Greenfield for almost as long as John had known Adam and Caitlin, the other two crew-members who had lost their lives recently. It was clear to John, that Miradima had come to respect the man, and he imagined that she probably felt the loss as keenly as he felt the loss of Adam and Caitlin.


    Too many people from their group had died already. He was not going to get through the loss of another. That beating Stephen had taken three days ago was a keen reminder that the situation with the survivors from Earth was still volatile, and that was over a simple misunderstanding.


    Don''t wanna think about what''ll happen if one of them gets offended, John thought to himself.


    Stephen was surprisingly handling this far better than John had expected. His friend from the training days on Earth before their launch was a good friend, but John had no idea how he would handle recent events. Stephen had pretty much clammed up at the ominous message that his parents had left him, whatever that was, and he clearly looked like he was suffering PTSD from what he saw coming back to Earth.


    This of course was no surprise to John, who was still dealing with his own issues surrounding that revelation. It still kept him awake at night, and probably would for a very long time.


    Still, Stephen seemed to find a way to deal with it, and John suspected that Janet Fletcher was partly responsible for that. For all of her brusque and abrasive mannerisms and hot temper, she seemed to be good for him.


    Just as Miradima was clearly very good for Davidson.


    Just as Adam and Caitlin were good for each other.


    Or at least, they would still be, if they were alive.


    Helen had no-one. Sure, any one of them in the crew roster would be willing to step up if offered, but that wasn''t really the same. None of them were Marlon, and never would be.


    In a way, the closest person who might understand the loneliness Helen would no doubt now be feeling was John, but John knew he was definitely not the right person to talk to her about any of this. Apart from anything else, none of John''s previous relationships had ended with the death of another. He also had never been involved as intimately as Helen and Marlon had been, having limited his relationships to casual affairs because of his career choice.


    Now, it seemed to John, that both their decisions had led to different, yet equally disheartening consequences. John might never have a meaningful relationship like Helen and Marlon did, or like Davidson and Miradima. On the other hand, he also hadn''t had his heart torn asunder by losing someone so close to him. It still hurt, but he knew it wasn''t that intense.


    He couldn''t talk to Helen, but someone needed to. As much as he understood her need to grieve privately, their core group also needed to make things happen. Pretty soon, ships would be arriving to move the population to the Tau Ceti system, and Davidson had insisted on making sure that the ground-work was laid down for their foreseeable government structure. Helen was a part of that core group, and to exclude her from the decision-making process would be insulting and disrespectful to her, as well as to Marlon''s memory... But she needed to be an active participant.


    He stood up and left the room, to go find Helen.


    * * *


    Janet had just left Stephen to rest in the makeshift infirmary so she could stretch her legs. Used to constant exercise, overseeing a decaying fallout shelter on Earth, the recent period of enforced idleness was beginning to wear thin on her psyche as well as her body. She was feeling stiff, mentally and physically, and needed to exercise to dust the cobwebs off of her mind and body. Yesterday was the first time she had experienced a major injection of anxiety-related chemicals being released into her system, only to have no way to release them effectively since she neither had to flee nor fight an assailant. Recognizing that the tension and anxiety of yesterday''s meeting with Davidson was unwarranted, Janet knew she had to find a new physical outlet until she could come to grips with it mentally. Taking off to purge the energies was an idea Stephen had given her, and last night, as well as this morning, she had decided to take his suggestion seriously. She was not yet up to the physical demands of a continuous jog, and those few occasions on the surface she had been forced to run had resulted in physical exhaustion afterwards. She did not like the idea of such a thing happening to her while things were the way they existed at the moment, so she had paced herself, switching from a brisk walk to a light jog, and back again, every minute.


    She had just finished a lap around the octagonal central zone near Stephen''s infirmary room, when she heard a tense discussion. Ordinarily, she might have ignored said discussion, given her place in this group was currently uncertain, but she recognized both voices, and neither seemed happy with their discussion. She decided to investigate.


    "I don''t see what the problem is," a male voice called out loudly from behind a closed door.


    "There are close to a hundred thousand people in this base, and we need to-"


    "Stop telling me what we need to do!" a female voice retorted, her tone strident and loud. It quickly changed to a yell. "I''M NOT STUPID!"


    "What the hell, man?" The male voice yelled back, surprised. "I didn''t say you were, and you go all hostile on me like that?" there was an ominous pause. "Look, I don''t know why the hell you think you need to do this right now."


    "Do what?!" the female voice scoffed derisively.


    "First, you shut yourself away from everyone who might care about your well-being-"


    "No, get out." the female voice yelled again. Clearly, she didn''t want anyone touching that particular nerve right now. "I said get out, John!"


    "The hell is your problem?" John asked. Janet recalled the tall pilot friend of Stephen from their brief meetings in recent days. Was the other person Helen? Janet recalled that she was apparently the only woman among the original group, and the only one of their group who was shutting herself away from everyone else.


    "Who the hell are you to ask me that?"


    There was a minute of tense silence, before John replied. "Look... I get it-"


    "No, you don''t!" Helen yelled again. "You don''t get it at all! You''ve never even been with someone long enough to give a shit about them!"


    So that was what this was about, Janet realized. Impulsively, and she would puzzle out why she did this later, she opened the door and stepped quickly inside. The tension in the room was stifling, but Janet was used to constant fear and mistrust in the shelter on Earth. This was nothing by comparison.


    "You know, your voices carry," she said quietly, deciding that being abrupt or aggressive would not serve anyone right now. "I heard you when I was on my morning jog."


    "You, jogging?" John asked, his tone amused, likely because he thought it would ease tension. He was wrong, of course, but not because Janet was blind to his effort, but because Helen was.


    "Don''t joke around about that which you don''t understand," Helen snapped, but Janet was having none of it.


    "I''m more than capable of speaking for myself," she told Helen in a quiet, yet firm voice. "And as you might have noticed, right now, I am keeping a lid on things because there is something more disturbing going on in this room."


    John said nothing, which Janet appreciated. "Don''t you start," Helen snapped at Janet.


    "Watch your tone with me," Janet snapped back. "I''ll make it very simple-"


    "Don''t you dare!"


    "Enough!" Janet barked, then said nothing, letting the silence sit there for a few moments. In a far quieter tone, she continued. "You reminded me not so long ago, that manners were something you took seriously."


    Helen scoffed. "What do you want?"


    "It''s not what I want," Janet told her. "It''s what everyone needs."


    Helen let out a sigh. "Look, I''m tired of all the bullshit right now. Too much has happened lately for me to deal with any more of it."


    Making a snap decision, she turned to John. "I need to speak to her alone," she told him.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    John''s facial features turned to alarm. "I don''t-"


    "Relax John," Janet told him. "If it''ll make you feel better, go summon some of your guards to stand by in case you think I might turn aggressive or whatever, but this is a conversation that needs to happen without anyone else to listen in."


    It took him a few moments, but John eventually acquiesced and left the room. Now, it was just Helen and Janet, alone in the room. Janet decided that it was time to lay all of her cards on the table. She began to speak. "Now-"


    "You can get out as well," Helen cut her off. "I''m not interested."


    Janet took a breath. "Your interest is irrelevant," she replied, borrowing an idiom that she had picked up from Edward recently. "I''m tired of this pity party you''ve been wallowing in."


    The look that Helen gave Janet at that moment would have killed her on the spot if such a thing were possible. "Who are you to tell me that?"


    "Someone who has dealt with enough bullshit and hypocrisy to last me a lifetime-"


    "Get the fuck out!" Helen snapped, jumping to her feet, her face a mask of fury. "NOW!"


    Janet stood her ground. "No," she said quietly. She was about to do something that was more agonizing than anything she had ever done before, and she quietly built up her willpower to do it.


    Helen was livid with rage, and she walked right up to Janet, stepping right into her personal space, invading her comfort zone without a care for the consequences. "If you don''t turn around and get the fuck out of this room right now, I''m going to tear your head off!"


    Janet stood her ground. Something told her that Helen was not a violent person by nature, and that this aggression was purely motivated by her grief and loss. She risked her own health and well being on that presumption as she stayed, unmoving for several seconds, facing the fury on Helen''s face, without so much as blinking. With what Janet was planning to do, this was nothing in comparison. "Do you think you''re the only one?" she asked, in a whisper, then held her tongue. Waiting for Helen to make a reply was an exercise in patience that she had not needed to engage in for a long time.


    "I''m not doing this-" Helen started, about to walk around Janet and step out of the room.


    "His name was Simon," Janet said quietly. She hadn''t said his name to anyone since he died. Not even Stephen knew that much.


    This froze Helen in her tracks. She turned back around to face Janet again. "Don''t do this," she pleaded. "I can''t deal with that right now."


    Janet understood, but she pressed ahead anyway. "I''m not asking you to deal with your loss," she said quietly. "I''m telling you about mine."


    "I don''t know what-"


    "Just listen," Janet said firmly. "I''m telling you about a man who was very close to my heart and the hearts of many of the survivors who are up here with us right now. The least you can do is be polite enough to listen."


    "Yeah?" Helen scoffed, in what even Janet suspected was an uncharacteristically uncharitable fashion for her. "I never asked for you to-"


    "This isn''t for your benefit," Janet said in an almost-whisper. "This is for everyone who has to work with you in the future."


    Helen frowned, but said nothing, moving instead to go sit back down. Once she was seated, she asked "what do you mean?"


    Janet took the opportunity to sit down herself. "I need you to understand something. If that means I have to tell you something that still cuts at me like a knife to this day, I''ll do it. Don''t..." Janet pointed directly at Helen, who seemed about to protest. "Just don''t. You won''t like it but you need to hear it."


    Helen''s earlier furious expression had lessened to one of irritation now, and she frowned at what Janet had just said. "Fine," she sighed.


    "You''ve met Edward," Janet started. "Has two kids?" She waited for Helen''s nod of confirmation. "Well, he once had three. One of them was a man named Simon. Apparently named him after his own father from before the second nuke. I don''t know, I wasn''t born yet. Anyway, Simon was a tall guy, a lot like Stephen is, but with lighter hair. Far skinnier. Had a weird collection of scars just about everywhere. He was impulsive, care-free, irritatingly cavalier at times..." Janet stopped, letting out a wistful breath, surprised at herself that thinking about the man who had once captured her heart was not as painful as she had expected it to be. "And until recently, a man I loved more than anyone else alive."


    "You know, if you''re going to..." Helen started, but at the look Janet gave her, she trailed off. Finally, Janet had put up with enough, and so she glared, hard, at Helen, until the other one understood just how far she had pushed.


    "Last time," Janet warned in the softest voice she had ever heard herself mutter, before continuing. "Now... He''s dead because he refused to give in to scavengers who wanted to steal from our shelter. Someone else was in charge, back then. He didn''t send out any patrols to keep an eye on a stockpile we established on the surface, so it was easily picked apart by scavengers. One day, Simon and I were up there, moving supplies to be dropped down into the shelter. Two of them came at us, armed with crossbows and knives to our side-arm and shotgun. A third one we didn''t see, snuck up behind us."


    This part of the story always distressed Janet, and she could feel a quickening of her pulse, and the effects of fight-or-flight chemicals flooding her body. Her breathing started to shallow and become more rapid.


    "Hey," Helen said suddenly, a look of concern on her face. Janet suspected this might happen, but it was worth it, and she needed to get it out.


    "No," she stopped Helen. "Give me a minute."


    It didn''t take quite that long to get control of her breathing again, and soon, her heart rate had slowed again. "Sorry... Thinking about it makes my blood boil and scares the shit outta me at the same time."


    "Thinking about what?" Helen prompted after a moment.


    Janet let out a deep breath, dispelling the last anxious feelings she had just built up minutes before. "The third had snuck up behind us, managed to kill Simon. I only saw the moment he was on the ground, bleeding out, while the son of a bitch stood over him, gloating about how he had fooled us all. I-" she stopped, swallowing hard. She was determined not to lose it right now, so she closed her eyes for a second. She knew she would need to say the words, but she tried very hard to push the images out of her head. The damage she could do any time she lost her temper was frightening, even to her, and reflecting back on it always made her sick to her stomach. "I killed him. No... I mean I did, but I flew into a rage, and I didn''t stop. The first two were already dead. Part of survival on the surface, although killing them bothered me all by itself. The third one, he was a soldier though, from our shelter, and should have known better than to betray us... I still don''t know what came over me, but I went crazy. I emptied my pistol at him, then I ran up and stabbed him again and again, until I had nothing left. He was long dead by the time I realized what I had done." Helen said nothing during this time, which Janet was thankful for. "After that... I was a mess. I couldn''t function for days. Grief, fear, regret, guilt... I''m still not over it."


    Silence descended at that point. Janet was silent because she did not know how to continue this discussion and make her point, Helen because... Well, Janet could only guess. At that point in time, she was staring blankly at a wall, her mind elsewhere.


    The silence was broken by a hissing sob. Janet looked over to see Helen had her face buried in her hand, propped up against a crate that served as a makeshift table. "What were the last words you two said to each other?" Helen had asked, her voice breaking.


    Janet would never forget. It was trivial conversation, but those words were all she had left of Simon. "He said to me ''I have something I want you to see'' while we set up at the supply cache. I asked him what, and he told me it was a surprise." After a deep breath, Janet continued. "The last words he ever said to me were when we had spotted the scavengers approaching the cache. He told me to go left and help him out-flank them. That was it," Janet turned to look at Helen again. "The last words he ever said to me."


    The silence that punctuated the end of that statement lasted for at least a minute, though it seemed to Janet to last hours.


    "Helen," Helen said in a whisper.


    "What?" Janet asked, surprised.


    "That was the last word he ever said to me," Helen replied, clearing her throat. "We were in the transport room on the ship you were on before. He had just told me he didn''t want me to be in danger." The silence at that statement lingered. "I told him to go, and he called my name to try and get me to talk to him." Janet suspected she knew what was coming, but waited for Helen to tell her directly. "I didn''t let him finish whatever he was going to say. I said... ''just go'' to him."


    Janet took a moment to think through that conversation, as Helen appeared to break down, her head dropping to her arm. Just a few days ago, Janet''s reaction would have been rather dismissive, her own people having suffered so much, her own troubles too immediate and too serious a concern.


    Not any longer.


    Having had the last few days of enforced idleness, she had taken the opportunity to look around her. There were many people milling around the shelter almost constantly. Many of them were her own people, the survivors that had been rescued, plus a few that she was not able to round up while she was on the surface. With them were some groups from other shelters in the North American region. No doubt there were many others among them that came from elsewhere, and they all had one thing in common; adjusting to this new reality and trying to survive the changes to their lives.


    Having had this new perspective, Janet had realized at the time, that others'' perspectives were just as important as those within her group. Stephen was right when he said that the days of summary justice were over. She had not taken it well at that moment, but reflecting on it now, she understood that it was better this way. Her hot-headedness would not now get away from her when she was forced to stop and think. It was a novel experience for her, but one she embraced.


    In this moment, it was clear that Helen was keenly remorseful for not taking the chance to tell Marlon what she really felt when she had the chance to do so. That guilt was ripping her apart from the inside.


    "I know it''s not the same," Janet said aloud in that moment. "But I spent months blaming myself for not saving Simon."


    "What?!" Helen asked after a moment''s pause, her head lifting up, a bewildered expression on her face. "You couldn''t have known-"


    "No," Janet said quietly, halting Helen in her objection. "No-one in my position could have." She paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully. "That didn''t stop me from blaming myself for not being quicker, for not knowing that there was a third, for not knowing that the third was a soldier from one of our own rank, or for not being able to stop Simon from bleeding out topside."


    "How did you deal with it?" Helen had asked.


    "I didn''t," Janet told her. Reflecting back on it, there would have been many occasions that she would be embarrassed to admit where she could have addressed her grief with someone she cared about, be it Edward or the guards she worked with daily, or anyone else. "I kept a distance from everyone except Edward, and even then, he never really got overly-close to me, at least not from my perspective... Or rather... Not openly."


    "I''m not sure I get it," Helen admitted weakly.


    "Edward is Simon''s father, and he treated me like one of his own kids... At least he did when I wasn''t running the whole show down in that place. He was too busy trying to deal with my grief without letting on that this is what he was doing. I still don''t know if he ever stopped to think about the fact that it was his own son who had died out there with me that day."


    At this point, Helen wiped her face with the sleeve of her clothing, and stood up. "Look," she said tiredly. "You''re right. I can''t wallow in self-pity while we have everything around us needing to be dealt with at the moment. I''m tired, I''m-" she had to stop, letting out a shaky sob.


    Janet did something at that moment she never expected herself to do at any point during her adult life. She approached Helen and impulsively gave her a hug, pulling the older woman close and wrapping her arms around her. She had literally surprised herself with this action, and she banished the idea out of her mind.


    "It''s like a hole in my gut!" Helen sobbed.


    "I know," Janet said softly, surprising herself again. This level of compassion she was feeling was surprising to her, given she had not felt this strongly about another person''s pain at any point on Earth''s surface. "I know you won''t believe me... But it wasn''t your fault."


    "I should''ve-" Helen started, but Janet didn''t give her the chance to finish that sentence.


    "There''s a lot that we could''ve said at any point in our lives that we don''t," she told Helen. "I''m learning a lot about what it is to be someone other than a stone cold bitch, and accepting that we sometimes say some monumentally stupid shit is one of those things. You weren''t to know that those words would be the last you ever heard, and I''m sure he knew you only did what you did because you were worried and too proud to take what he said without being defensive."


    Janet felt Helen stiffen in her arms, and was about to release her, to give her some breathing room, but the moment passed, and Helen relaxed again. "I hate that you''re right," she said weakly, her voice containing a humorous tone that Janet was only distantly familiar with.


    "It doesn''t happen that often," she quipped back, eliciting a slightly teary laugh from Helen.


    After a moment, Helen pushed weakly against Janet, who immediately released her hold on Helen. "I don''t mean to be rude," Helen said by way of explanation. "I''m still tired. Who knew feeling grief and depression would be so exhausting?"


    Plenty of times on Earth, Janet had felt too mentally exhausted to deal with the day''s problems. She had not had any choice in the matter, as everyone else was relying on her, and so it was common for her to walk around feeling exhausted all the time despite having had a good night''s sleep in many cases, so she knew what Helen was talking about. "I''ll leave you to it," she told Helen. "The others still need you though. You might wanna talk to them soon." Helen''s sighing nod was all the confirmation Janet needed, so she stepped to the doorway to leave the room. "See you soon."


    After exiting the room and closing the door behind her, Janet was startled by the presence of John, who looked as if he had just come running. "I''m glad you''re done in there," he puffed. "There''s been an incident with some of your people."

 Chapter 08: Violation

    08


    Violation


    <hr>


    John and Janet both rushed over to the Tau Cetians guarding a group of survivors. As soon as he fetched Janet, John had taken her straight there without any further explanation, and she apparently didn''t need one. He already knew the overview of the incident, but didn''t ask for details. Now, he and Janet would no doubt get the full story.


    Circled by seven Tau Cetian guards, including the same one that had arrested Jason Mensar three days earlier, were three people, two of them men, all in varying states of undress, and differing states of emotion including anger. To one side of this group, two more guards stood beside two women, both clearly survivors, both injured, also in differing states of dress.


    "Let''s have that report," John requested of the guards in their native language. He would translate for Janet as the explanation was given to him.


    "We found these five people in the end room off of the north octagon spike, east side," the female guard told John, in her capacity as spokesperson for the group. "Three were in the process of attacking the two standing over there," she added, gesturing to the two women to one side. John did not immediately translate for Janet, instead, prompting the guard to continue.


    The three miscreants being held in the ring of guards were being accused of accosting the two women before attempting to rape them both. The noise being made was caught by some nearby humans and a Tau Cetian guard with exceptional hearing, and the nine guards now present had descended upon the assailants with extreme prejudice. John asked the guards to take the assailants to a sealed room until shelter leadership could deal with them, and as they were being led away, John explained the situation to Janet, whose reaction was understandably explosive. John attempted to calm her down.


    "Don''t tell me to fuckin'' calm down," Janet shouted back, her stance combative, her skin flushed with fury. "Those three pigs can''t be allowed to get away with fucking those two women against their will. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?"


    John shook his head. "We gotta do this right," he told her. "For now, they need to be held apart from everyone else. We can get Davidson to handle questioning them, and he''ll know the way to punish their crimes."


    "What about those two women?" Janet asked, her tone rising, her breathing rapid. "They just¡­ They¡­"


    As part of his medical training for this mission, John had only a basic understanding of psychological trauma, but he knew the obvious signs of PTSD when he saw them. Slowly, quietly, he tried reassurance. "They''ll get all the help they need," he told her. "And if you want it, so will you."


    "I don''t know what you''re talkin'' about," she snapped defensively in reply.


    "I''m just sayin'', is all," John replied gently, making no move to approach Janet. "Anyone who needs help with dealing with what happened is going to get it, those two included," he added, deliberately not referencing her this time.


    It was clear now, that Janet was in a state of denial over the extent of the psychological damage whatever had happened in her past had caused. This was well beyond his pay-grade. It was also causing her distress. John could see what was happening as her breathing did not slow, her face turned even paler than it already was, and she looked ready to fight or run. John was therefore extremely relieved when a tired-looking and red-eyed Helen turned a corner and saw what was going on. The medical expert quickly approached as she saw and heard them.


    "Is everything OK?" She ashed, looking quickly between the other two. John was reluctant to discuss the situation, given that Helen looked like she had been crying very recently, but her expectant look prompted him to continue.


    "There was an incident earlier," he started to explain. "Everyone involved is being held for questioning, but there are two women who will need someone to talk to them for¡­"


    "For?" Helen prompted.


    John sighed heavily before answering, but before he could, Janet jumped in. "Two guys and a bitch cornered those two girls and were apparently about to fuck them senseless." Her tone was incendiary, and her fists were clenching and unclenching.


    To John''s relief, Helen was well aware of this behaviour, as she quickly said to him "Take off John, I''ll catch up with you later" in a low, urgent tone, her expression holding an entreaty he understood. John nodded quickly and walked in the direction the guards walked the prisoners in. He didn''t hear what was said, although he did hear Janet''s raised voice for a moment, but it seemed Helen had managed to defuse the situation.


    One of the doors opened as John approached the end of the corridor, and the female Tau Cetian guard he had been talking with over the last few days stepped out, her expression grim.


    "What''s their status?" John asked her in Tau Cetian.


    "Both females have injuries to their arms, legs and face. I should leave the details to a medic, but they''re really distressed," she told John, letting out a melancholy sigh, looking downwards and off into the distance. "Our presence doesn''t help."


    John supposed not, given the survivors as a group were small, frail and jittery, compared to the tall, well-defined and in some cases bulky Tau Cetians, who all carried an air of self assurance that the survivors sorely lacked. "I guess we can only be patient with them while we sort it all out," he told her. It occurred to him at that moment that he had never asked this woman her name, nor any of the other Tau Cetians currently in the complex. "I keep meaning to ask, but what''s your name?"


    The sideways glance she gave him held a hint of amusement. "Mephecia."


    John was curious about the naming convention that the Tau Cetians used, but never found a good time to ask anyone about it. "Does it mean anything?"


    "Yes," Mephecia smiled slightly. She then proceeded to explain the way that each Tau Cetian name was constructed. For each person born from two parents, a name is made by combining the names of both parents for the child. The way these names are combined is up to the parents, but definite rules existed depending on the biology of the child. Females always had names ending with a Tau Cetian equivalent of a vowel. Males did not. Most names were constructed to be three or four syllables. Often, a person could be traced back to parents in their locality just from their name alone, although such crude genealogy techniques were obsolete and had been for as long as Mephicia knew.


    The conversation was an interesting diversion, but Helen''s approach brought both of them back to the reason John came by. Helen''s expression was contemplative.


    "I''ve spoken with Janet about the situation," Helen told John in English, her tone quietly contemplative. "This has hit a little too close to home for her."


    "Any idea what it was?" John asked, without thinking.


    Helen shook her head, her lips compressing in a thin line. "Sorry John, I can''t discuss that with you." Switching to Tau Cetian, she asked "How are the victims?"


    John was painfully reminded of the efforts of Caitlin as their linguist on the mission, before she and Adam had lost their lives. He swallowed the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, and nodded to Mephicia, who gave a brief overview.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "I''ll give them a full examination," Helen told them, turning to Mephicia. "It may be less distressing for them if I examine each of them myself, but if you could have someone stand by to step in, it would be helpful if there is a panic."


    "Yes," Mephicia nodded, then added "apologies, I do not know how to address you."


    "Helen is fine," was the cordial reply.


    "Yes Helen."


    John was slightly amused at that brief exchange.


    Davidson rounded the corner at that moment, his expression almost murderous. "How are the victims?"


    Helen explained, adding that she was about to examine them herself.


    "I''ll sit that one out," Davidson replied. "They''re frightened enough as it is," he then turned to Mephicia. "Now, where are the assailants?"


    The blazing inferno of the sun was in his voice right then.


    * * *


    Tau Cetian vessel Kl''Deesius, orbiting the moon.


    Miradima had recently finished a lengthy conversation with the Klankharis Fleet Commander about the transition of the Earth refugees from the Earth''s moon to Tau Ceti 5''s innermost habitable moon. Multiple flotilla of fleet transports were on their way from the Fleet Arm shipyards in the Lagrange point between Tau Ceti and Tau Ceti 6, each capable of safely moving over ten thousand passengers from Sol to Tau Ceti. They were not fast ships, with a maximum jump range of half a light year and a recharge time of six hours, it would take about a week for them to get to Earth orbit, and another week to transport everyone back to Tau Ceti.


    The Kl''Deesius would be ready to travel back with them at that point, once stability testing was complete on the FTL drive that had recently been damaged during their skirmish over the lunar colony.


    Along with these transports, a Tau Cetian terraforming detachment had been launched from the Scientific Analysis Directorate. There was a ten kilometer long BioLauncher ship, the largest movable space-going vessel the Klankharis Realm built and launched. Identical vessels were responsible for terraforming Tau Ceti 5a, 4 and 6b, as well as a number of Klankharis based worlds in nearby star systems. BioLauncher vessels had a very limited crew, a docking port for crew access, a massive launch array for all of the launch-able terraforming equipment, and large docking bay on the back to replenish the BioLauncher, usually only needed for large planets, or in this case, for atmospheric reconfiguration following a severe radiation or toxin release.


    Given the size of the BioLauncher, it would take a month to get here. The urgent nature of its mission required it to begin operations as soon as it entered Earth orbit.


    Also, given the threat that the Possessors posed to the region now that they had revealed themselves, the terraforming detachment did not include the standard science vessel and fast resupply cargo handler it would have. Instead, the detachment replaced the handler with a Fleet Arm military version capable of operating under combat conditions, the science vessel was replaced with a Fleet Arm deep infiltration vessel that simultaneously had stealth characteristics and a whole array of passive and active sensors capable of exceeding the science vessels'' specifications, and the detachment included a pair of Klankharis Fleet Arm frigates of the same specification as the Kl''Deesius.


    Miradima was relieved. The reappearance of their ancient enemy had traumatized her, both because of the recent vision warning her of their presence on Earth, and the resulting imagery she had needed to witness of one of her security officers being bodily possessed on the surface while the Tau Ceti crew searched for survivors. Knowing their enemy had re-appeared and were trying to invade the planets in the region again was an insult to the millions of Klankharis people who had given their lives fighting them off the last time they had invaded the region.


    Klankharis history was rather short, at least the recorded, verifiable part of it. The Realm governance had records going back almost four thousand years, with some spotty information going back about eight to nine thousand. Everything before that point in time was conspicuously absent, and no evidence existed on Klankharis Prime (the third planet in the Tau Ceti system) of any people or their technology existing longer than nine thousand years ago.


    Rumors of the possessors invading Klankharis Prime, the only naturally developed habitable world in the Tau Ceti system, were widespread, and provisional support for this belief existed in historical record fragments at approximately six thousand years into the past. It was rumored that Klankharis Prime had been invaded, the populace enslaved or possessed, and after hundreds of years a resistance forced all possessed people off world either by destroying their ability to reach the surface, or killing them and their hosts.


    It was rumored that the well-documented Klankharii ability to sense the presence of an invading Possessor force began developing at this time, aided by genetic manipulation techniques that had been lost to what happened next. It would be many millennia before gene sequencing would be re-discovered, and Earth had gifted the techniques to the Klankharii when they gave them their entire medical database.


    As a response to the failure of the Possessor invasion, the Possessors began bombarding the planet with weapons from orbit. Usually the weapons were mass based, which was devastating to the environment and the mass was readily available from the nearby asteroid field, so required little effort or logistical planning to deploy. The survivors escaped in a haphazard flotilla of barely-functional vessels, which sustained them as they departed for other worlds. This was before faster-than-light propulsion was discovered, so the remaining ships had to travel near-relativistic speeds. If not for cold sleep technology and antimatter reactors, their journey would not have made it past the outer system boundary before the crew had died of old age or the ships had lost power and ran out of fuel.


    Eighty-six ships left Tau Cetian space, hundreds more were bombarded as they tried to launch from the surface and from low orbit.


    Only seventy-eight of them successfully reached enough of a fraction of light speed that time was dilated.


    For hundreds of years, the survivors traveled from one system to another, sometimes losing ships, finding either uninhabitable world, worlds with hostile populations, or worlds already possessed by their enemy. The details were sketchy, because there was little documentation from those days, but each encounter with worlds occupied by the Possessors resulted in combat losses. After over eight hundred years of relativistic travel around the surrounding systems, there were thirty-five ships left, none of them combat-capable.


    Forty-eight hundred years before today, the group split. Miradima thought it was bizarre that they would do so, but twenty-four ships decided to head back to Tau Ceti, the reasons for which were not really known.


    The other eleven ships decided to set a course elsewhere in the galaxy. Who knows what happened to those ships?


    Twenty-three ships finally made it back across the heliopause of Tau Ceti, expecting to go out in one last fight or to entomb themselves on their home planet.


    They didn''t expect to find Tau Ceti empty of the possessor threat, nor Klankharis Prime to be habitable again (albeit at the time, barely).


    At that point in history, their resettlement formed the cornerstone of the current Klankharis Realm. Resettlement took place extremely slowly, at first. Settlements were all subterranean, initially utilizing natural caverns, then building out into artificial caverns once the populace had reinstituted their technology. Much of their civilization was devoted to researching new ways to hide from the Possessor threat, develop countermeasures for their possession ability, and strengthen their armor and weapons technology. During this time, FTL drives were developed along with gravitational field manipulation, molecular manipulation, matter-energy conversion, and all kinds of related technological advancements surrounding these discoveries.


    Two thousand years ago, the Possessors re-invaded the Klankharis homeworld.


    This time, they were unsuccessful.


    Despite sending thousands of those organic ships of theirs, unleashing hell on the planet and the defences in orbit, the now extensive Klankharis fleet was more versatile, and had far greater numbers. FTL jumping ships also provided an advantage in tactical maneuvrability.


    It made all the difference.


    After successfully repelling hundreds of Possessor attacks, including a highly intense assault at the last moment, the Klankharis military sent out scouts to search for other Possessor-infested worlds, mark them, and eventually send vessels to purge them out of the systems they were found in.


    It was a long campaign, spanning close to two thousand years. Even today, there were ships commissioned by the Fleet Arm, whose sole purpose was to seek out Possessor infestations in the region and report their presence to Klankharis Prime.


    "Commander," a call came in from her Sub Commander. "Urgent contact from the lunar complex."


    "Pass it through," Miradima ordered, and waited a beat for the communication to be switched over. "Command here."


    "Mira," Davidson''s voice over the communication system was slightly more tense than usual. "Sorry if you''re busy with anything, but I need to talk with you about an incident in the shelter population."


    Davidson wouldn''t be bothering anyone about this if it were merely an isolated problem. "Should I come to you?"


    "Or I could come up to the ship," Davidson suggested.


    Miradima thought for a moment. "No, it would be best for me to come to you. If it''s an incident down there, I can get a better idea by being there."


    A short pause, before Davidson answered her. "Alright," he replied. "I''ve taken a room in the shelter that is cleared for your transport. I''m in it now."


    "I''ll be there momentarily," Miradima told him before tapping her control to cancel the communication link. "Tactical, lock on to the comm tab of Davidson in the lunar complex and get his room layout. I want a transport of myself to that location immediately."


    "Layout obtained. A space is available."


    "Transport."


    It took no more than a second, and Miradima''s body was deconstructed in a blast of yellow light, leaving no trace she was there a few seconds before.

 Chapter 09: Martial Law

    09


    Martial Law


    <hr>


    Davidson and Mira had spent at least a couple of hours in the lunar facility, gathering witness statements, ensuring that the two victims in the incident were comfortable, and questioning the suspects.


    Ideally, this would be handled by trained personnel, in specific departments, with specific job roles. However, this was far from ideal.


    They were all in the middle of trying to establish order among Earth''s survivors, with no formal governing structure in place, and a dearth of trained people to handle these matters.


    Since the core group were leaning toward martial law anyway, the most appropriate method of dealing with this situation was to hold an informal court-martial. Davidson was the only qualified and active military officer from Earth, and Mira was the highest ranking command officer among her own people within light years.


    After spending the last thirty minutes hastily skimming the UCMJ in the databanks, they had enough to work with. Davidson then made the announcement to the accused, and Mira had hastily replicated some court-appropriate furniture on board Kl''Deesius before having it transported to the base.


    Now, Davidson was present in the newly-appointed court-room, with hastily-assembled yet solidly-built segregation zones for criminal suspects, a witness box, the judicial panel bench, and the counselor tables for plaintiff and defendant in dealing with non-criminal disputes. There was no jury bench, since there was no civilian judiciary. Guilt or innocence would be decided by the judges sitting in on the proceedings.


    In this case, Davidson, Mira and Mephecia as a representative of the Tau Cetian guard.


    The trial began in earnest.


    "Court-martial is in session," Davidson, as nominated judge for the hearing, announced to all attendees. "Trial is assembled to hear the case of sexual assault and battery against two women while in the jurisdiction of this base. As this location is subject to United States military forces, these proceedings fall under the Uniform Code of Military Justice. For the record, the relevant statutes are¡­" and Davidson reeled off the official regulations he had checked earlier. Finally, he closed with "Prosecuting this case is ISS Tau Ceti mission specialist and astronaut, John Malakhi."


    Alongside Davidson and Mira, John was present, sitting at the prosecution table. Present in the room was Helen in her capacity as medic, Mephicia in her capacity as guard liaison and primary arresting officer, and Edward, as the unenviable representative of the defendants, since he was the closest they had to anyone capable of formulating an argument.


    It was not a job he wanted, but someone had to represent the attackers.


    Given the nature of the offences, the victims were not asked to attend the hearing, and Janet was asked to find somewhere else to be. Stephen had offered to try and keep her distracted, and the others had taken him up on it.


    At Davidson''s nod, John stood from his seat, consulting some written notes he had stored on his provided data slate, and began to speak.


    "This case is straightforward. Today, the third day of Earth exodus, three assailants, all defendants in this case, physically assaulted and attempted to imprison two people." He began to pace around the prosecution desk as he made his case. "The evidence I will be presenting is from witness statements and a security report. This will report that the three defendants accosted the two victims, prevented them from leaving, caused physical injury to them, and attempted to force through physical coercion, sexual acts upon the victims. We will be asking for the court to find against the defendants for kidnap, physical assault and battery, and attempted rape."


    John quickly stepped back to his seat at the prosecution''s desk. Edward stood at the gesture from Davidson, who could see that Edward clearly did not wish to represent these defendants in any capacity.


    He felt a certain degree of sympathy for the man, but hoped he would see his way past it. Earlier, he had explained to Edward the importance of making sure that the accused had someone to represent them in this setting, to avoid accusations of corruption, trial fixing or of running a show trial, to avoid rioting by people who knew no better, and to ensure that the defendants did not have the ability to declare a false trial finding and to waste more time going through this all again in the future. For his own part, Davidson wanted to make sure that the three assailants had no way to maneuver their way into a release due to technicalities, and while there was not the robust court system that used to exist before the wars that ravaged Earth, there had to be something that people could rely upon. These reasons were why he chose the court-martial system to begin with, alongside the fact that while no civilian records or texts were available for rebuilding a civilian court system, a copy of military regulations was provided in the ISS Tau Ceti''s banks for the Mission Commander to use when needed. Davidson was hoping these reasons would keep Edward doing his thankless job in this instance.


    He would find a workaround while they journeyed to Tau Ceti in the next two weeks.


    "Your Honors, prosecutor, witnesses," Edward began in carefully enunciated tones, using them to moderate his feelings about having to defend people he clearly believed were guilty. "The defense to this case will be to demonstrate that there is no clear evidence of the accused''s intentions toward the assault victims that the prosecution represents. Through questioning, it is intended by the defense, to prove that prosecution''s case is at best, circumstantial and coincidental. Thank you."


    With that, he sat back down. Davidson had to be satisfied with Edward''s choice of words, as he had almost no time to prepare a case given how quickly Davidson himself had called this court-martial. He stood. "Prosecution will call its'' first witness."


    <hr>


    Stephen was still in his infirmary bed, waiting impatiently for his fractures to knit enough that he wouldn''t need to be confined to this damned bed for so many hours each day. It didn''t matter to him that it had only been three days since Jason assaulted him, causing these injuries. All that mattered was that he was stuck, unable to go anywhere without assistance.


    Janet was present, pacing like a caged tiger. Helen had quickly explained the situation to Stephen earlier, giving him no details, but making it clear that Janet needed to be distracted while the court-martial was in session.


    "What are you doing?" She asked him irritably. "You''ve been sitting there, looking at me every minute, since I got here."


    Stephen was non-plussed. He received a very brief set of instructions from Helen just before the court-martial commenced. Her instructions essentially could be summed up as sit down, make no moves that could be construed as threatening, and keep your mouth closed unless asked a question that you could give a nice, safe, non-traumatising answer to.


    "I¡­" was all he could get out.


    "Well?" She snapped. "Every fuckin'' one of you has been trying to keep out of my way since those two girls were attacked earlier, no-one will even look me straight in the eye, everyone is acting like I''ll either fall to pieces at any moment or start stabbing everyone else with a knife, even you''re doing it!"


    How could Stephen possibly respond to this? Janet was clearly dumping adrenaline and cortisol because of her frighteningly obvious PTSD, and she was calling him out for wanting to avoid making things worse. "I don''t know what to say¡­"


    "Stephen, fuck this bullshit!" She barked, waving her arms and gesturing in frustration, yet her tone held a plea. "Don''t do¡­ Whatever it is you''re doing! I''m trying to hold it together out there and I''m failing! I''ve gotta keep a lid on these crazy feelings out there while this whole¡­ Transition thing is happening," she stopped pacing and approached him, her tone rising. "There are few I can really let myself go around. So few I feel truly safe around, Stephen. Don''t keep me at arms'' length and don''t try to change the subject about painful things, I''m begging you-"


    Impulsively, Stephen stepped right up to her, took her in his arms, and pulled her close. Before he could let her go or regret being so impulsive, she wrapped her own arms around him and squeezed as if her life depended on it.


    "When you''re ready to talk about it, I''ll listen," Stephen said quietly.


    "Now," Janet told him, her tone calmer, though she still breathed rapidly, and her heart beat fast and hard against his chest. "We have time, what those girls have gone through is making me re-live my own experience, and I need to talk it out with someone I trust. Please don''t send me away-"Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "Whoa," Stephen interrupted her. "I''m not going to send you away... Whatever you mean by that-"


    "I mean don''t make me leave you alone!" She was close to tears at this point, and it seemed as though she might lose her grip if Stephen wasn''t careful. "I can''t-"


    "Stay," Stephen told her. It sounded like a command, but some deep instinct told him she wanted him to take a firm hand in this. "Give yourself a minute, but understand this." Stephen moved his head so that she had no choice but to look directly at him. "I will never send you away from me for this," he paused, letting that sink in. "Never."


    That was what she needed, he could tell. She wrapped him in a fierce hug, and let out a shaky breath. Even though he was still in pain from his injuries, he gently but firmly manoeuvred her so that she was sitting on his infirmary cot, and sat down next to her, putting an arm over her shoulder as they both stared at the wall directly ahead. After a moment, he turned to look at her. "I''ll be here when you need me," he said. "I''ll always be here."


    She turned to look at him, her eyes blazing in intensity. "Every time I''m reminded of what happened with that pig who... Did what he did, I feel like I wanna throw up, run as far away as I can, or kill someone. Here-" she quickly grabbed Stephen''s hand before he knew what was happening, placing it inside her shirt, right where her heart was. "Feel that?"


    Stephen did feel that. Mindful not to cause a misunderstanding about his promise not to abandon her, he made no move to withdraw his hand despite the first instinct being to pull back immediately, instead leaving it where he could feel her heart racing through her ribcage. Stephen knew she was malnourished, like everyone from the surface of Earth, but this was the first time he could feel it. Her skin was dry and felt like it had little elasticity despite how young she was. He could feel her ribs clearly through her chest despite not applying any amount of pressure to her ribcage. Without meaning to, he brushed the right edge of his right palm against a bump-


    Janet shivered, her face registering surprise. Stephen immediately pulled his arm out. "I''m sorry! I didn''t mean to-"


    "What?" She asked, shocked. "You brushed me a little. What''s wrong with that?!"


    Stephen was rendered speechless for a second. "Well... I grazed your..."


    Janet shrugged. "So?"


    "Well... In my time, that wasn''t normally allowed unless a woman specifically says it''s OK, and given what has happened in your past, I didn''t want you to think-"


    "Stop," Janet interrupted him, gripping his face. "Only one other person ever came close to being so considerate... And even he never outright asked me!"


    Stephen was aghast. "Janet, that''s not OK. Someone touching you without you telling them it''s OK is-"


    "Wait, please!" Janet stopped him. "Really, I get it. Listen to me," she drew his face closer to hers. "Simon never asked me directly if it was OK for him to touch me when he did... But we had an unspoken agreement. If I ever pushed back at him, he knew to stop, and he was so far the only one who ever did that," she paused, impulsively kissing his lips. "Except you."


    Stephen shook his head. "You''ll always be safe with me," he told her.


    "I know," she replied.


    "And you''ll always be safe with everyone from my ship, as well as-"


    "Stephen," Janet interrupted him firmly but gently. "I know." With gentle insistence, she took his hand again, putting it back against her chest. "Feel that?"


    Stephen did feel it. Her heart rate was far calmer now. "That''s good," he told her. "What do you want to do now?"


    <hr>


    Several minutes later, despite Stephen''s protestations that they didn''t need to go through painful reminders, at Janet''s insistence, he ended up listening to her story.


    When she was younger, while someone else was running the fallout shelter in Phoenix, Arizona, Janet had been kidnapped by a brute of a male. He was not the biggest, he was not the strongest, but he was very sneaky, highly intimidating, and for someone so young at the time, a dangerous threat and not someone she could have stopped initially. Over the course of three days, he took her to an abandoned area of the shelter, in a quiet room past a collapsed ceiling, and behind several curtains that deadened any sound that might otherwise escape. Multiple times, he would roughly assault her in several ways, from beating her if he didn''t like what she said, or how she gazed at him or around the area, to sexual assault. Sometimes he would force himself on her violently, leaving her in no control whatsoever. Sometimes he would get under her skin with claims that what she let him do was disgusting, and the "fact" that she "gotten off on it" was vile and made her less than human.


    Hearing that particular part of the story made Stephen furious. He wanted to find the guy, rip his throat out, and then tear his head off and stick it on a pike as a warning to everyone else. He said nothing, however.


    Janet told him how she had been made to feel worthless, that no-one would ever believe anything she ever told them about what he was doing to her, and that if she didn''t do exactly what she was told by him at all times, she would find herself dead within minutes. Stephen had to use sheer force of will to prevent his stomach from voiding all over the floor, he was so disgusted by what she was telling him, and to see her force this story out was like a vice around his heart. As she continued to tell her story, she began to shake violently, eyes leaking profusely, though she made a determined effort to keep her voice steady.


    She told him how, after the three days, he had left her alone to go out scavenging with the rest of the shelter population, as he had done on the other two days. That third day, he had forgotten to tie her up against a part of the structure, so she was free to wander around the room. She picked up a sliver of glass, and used it to cut her bonds around her wrists, cutting her legs free, before making an effort to untie the rest of the ropes that had bound her. It was painful, because using broken glass was never going to leave her without injuries of her own.


    Stephen gently reached out to take one of her hands, realizing that he had never noticed any scarring on her hands before. Reflexively, she yanked them out of reach, her face a mask of hurt and fear. Without a word, Stephen held his hand out to her, far enough that she did not feel he was encroaching on her space, but clearly gesturing for her to give him her hand to look at. After a moment, she did. He gently thumbed over the scar patterns on her palm, as well as gash scars on several fingers and across the area where her tendons would be that connected her thumb to her forefinger. The worst of it was in the center of her palm, where it appeared as though a sharp object had gouged deep into her skin. He looked back up at her face, noticing once again the pattern of scars across her face down one side of her cheek. Clearly, Janet had been through many violent situations and received injuries as a result. How many of these were not combat-related? How many were because some disgusting pig had no respect for her as a person and instead used her as a receptacle for their sordid activities?


    Janet continued her story, forcing Stephen to pay attention again.


    It was at this point the assailant had returned, and upon seeing Janet freed from her prison, he tried to grab her, threatening to kill her for trying to escape. In fear of her life, and with apparently nothing left to lose, she plunged the glass sliver into the guy''s neck, pushing it deep, even though in doing so, she badly lacerated her hands further. There was no doubt more to tell about this event, but Stephen was not going to hear it today, even if Janet could force herself to continue.


    As slowly and gently as he could, he pulled her down toward the infirmary cot, as she curled up into a ball and sobbed her pain out into the room. Without a word, he took a blanket and covered her with it, and turned to grab one of the seats.


    "Don''t go!" She blurted out. "You promised!"


    Stephen turned back around, just as she seemed about to throw off the blanket. "I''m not going anywhere, but I really need to sit down. My ribs still hurt."


    "No," she said weakly. "Don''t. You still need to heal." With that, she uncurled slightly, and moved herself to one side of the cot. "Lie back," she said, sniffling involuntarily.


    Stephen did as he was told. While the pain in his ribs was still enough to force a gasp from him at times, he managed to lie back on the cot. "I know this might be a little much to ask," he began. "But do you think you can get any rest while we''re here?"


    She could not speak, instead, burying her head into the pillow next to him, her hand reflexively grabbing and releasing his arm for several minutes.


    <hr>


    "Order!" Davidson yelled to the room at large as two of the assailants continued to call out and accuse their victims of lying. This was a losing tactic, and reeked of playground bullying, which Davidson supposed was to be expected given the circumstances. "SHUT UP!"


    That was enough to startle both attackers into silence long enough that Davidson could be heard. "You," he pointed at one of them. "You," he pointed at the other. "Not another word out of your mouths, or I''ll have you both shot here and now."


    Mira turned to the two victims in this case. "Thank you both for your testimony today. Please join the woman to your left and she will take you to a safe room until I can speak with you again." She nodded to the female Tau Cetian guard that Mephecia had recommended for this role, and she took both of them out of the room. "Prosecution, do you have any further witnessed to call?"


    "Not at this time, Commander," John replied punctiliously.


    "Defense counsel, do you have any witnesses to call at this time?"


    "No. Err... Madam," Edward stammered.


    Mira gave him what Davidson interpreted as a reassuring smile. Edward relaxed a little. "Everyone please remain seated. The evidence is straightforward enough that we can make a decision here."


    This was an unusual precedent in the circumstances, and was almost unheard of in any military tribunal Davidson had ever heard of. Given the nature of the crimes, as well as the circumstances of their impending departure from the Sol system, the process needed to be expedited. Davidson and Mira looked at one another. She nodded once to affirm she was prepared to vote guilty on all counts. Davidson was in agreement. He looked to Mephicia, who was already aware of proceedings, having had a translator parse the hearing for her via her communicator.


    She nodded as well.


    Davidson stood, addressing all three assailants. "All three of you, guilty on all counts. Sentencing will be revealed in two weeks. Take them to a secure room and hold them there until our escort arrives.These proceedings are dismissed."


    Perhaps unsurprisingly, the assailants all cried foul, accusing the court and the three judges of holding kangaroo court. This was disturbing to Davidson, for one very simple reason.


    None of them were likely to have any idea what the hell that meant. Someone had obviously been speaking to them and revealing information about their past that was not common knowledge, perhaps in an effort to destabilise the situation further. They would need to talk about getting a proper surveillance apparatus in place soon, especially now that there appeared to be a subversive element playing them for fools.


    "We need to talk," Davidson told both Mephecia and Mira.

 Chapter 10: Garden World

    10


    Garden World


    <hr>


    Klankharis Garden World Tau Ceti 5a


    47days after the lunar battle


    Nearly two months had passed since the lunar battle took place, and just over a month after the evacuation of the lunar base to a garden world belonging to their friends in the Tau Ceti system. Today was the meeting of the human crew of the ISS Tau Ceti, as well as Tau Cetian leadership. While settling the human population on Tau Ceti 5a was an ongoing concern, the primary campaign goal for both humanity and the Klankharis Realm was to ensure that the Possessor threat was addressed. This was a long-term plan, but given humanity''s current state of affairs, one whose foundations needed to be laid immediately, and the infrastructure needed to begin placement within the next year. Many changes were going to take place, many of them a first for humanity despite being hypothesized (and often romanticized in fiction) for decades before the near-extinction of the human race.


    Davidson and his people had decided unanimously that they wanted Earth habitable, and that once this was done, his people would build their own fleet of ships, utilising the technologies acquired from their previous trade with the Klankharis Realm and the acquisition of salvaged drone combat units from the surface of Earth. Although all the working units they had discovered from the AI schism of twenty-four years before had been destroyed in the battle around the Moon, the units that had not been completed because of the early fight were still available for research. Because of this, once Earth was in a position to begin building again, they would have the technology for both space folding and weapons research. If anything, Earth had a great deal of firepower at their disposal, thanks to the Machine War.


    Most people agreed that this was more than likely the only thing good to come from that accursed time in their history.


    Terraforming on Earth had already begun, with the second phase underway. The first phase involved over a hundred ships collecting samples from the atmosphere of the planet. The sheer number of ships was intended as a defence in case of any residual possessor infestation on the planet.


    The second phase involved cleansing the atmosphere and decontaminating the water on the planet. Huge Klankharis sphere-shaped vessels referred to as bioformers were used for this purpose, each capable of deploying hundreds of biodrones, with tens of thousands of them being deployed. These drones would skim the upper layers of the atmosphere and use their powerful reactors to power several on-board atmosphere processing systems as the gases were scooped into the bioformer, releasing gases from the exhaust ports that had any dangerous particulate matter or radioactive isotopes dangerous to life in their composition removed and captured in dedicated filters. These ships would operate continuously for several passes of the planet''s atmosphere, working continuously, before returning to orbit to allow their systems to be purged of contaminants and readied for another pass. The process would take at least twelve months, each month having the drones lowered further into the atmosphere until they were skimming the lower reaches.


    Phase three would see dedicated atmosphere processors whose task was to reprocess the atmosphere at sea level, removing radiation and filtering contaminants from both the air and the sea. These would work continuously, hopefully rendering the planet livable within a year, but would remain deployed for several decades as they completed their task of total restoration of the planet''s ecosystem.


    Phase four would involve replacing the plant-life and greenery, rendering the planet the self-sustaining world it once was. This one was waiting on phase three, although genetic alteration would ensure that the plantlife could resist pests, were immune to radiation damage, and captured nothing harmful to any other form of life beyond their role in the ecosystem.


    The final phase would be the attempted re-introduction of Earth¡¯s pre-industrial ecosystem. This would involve seeding several populations of several species in isolated areas with a carefully balanced and continuously monitored predator-prey distribution so that predators had a food source, and their prey would neither be hunted to extinction nor breed out of control.


    Each of these projects was to be announced to the human population at large in the coming months, with news of the first phase of terraforming already made public. Several individuals had already vocalized their desire to get involved, and human leadership had already passed along the desire of Earth''s people to become self-sufficient as quickly as possible.


    ¡°It¡¯s a commendable way of doing things,¡± Hendirim told everyone seated in the conference on Midan, referring to the collective human decision to work the land they were allocated on Tau Ceti 5a. ¡°The human people are resilient, as I have seen. They remind me a great deal of our own people during the war years.¡±


    The war years for Klankharis went between Earth¡¯s calendar date of 1056 and 1080 CE, and had involved a great deal of bitter fighting against the Possessors the first time around. At this time, Klankharis Prime was the only world to exist for them, and the war had decimated them to such a point that they were reduced to almost nothing.


    It was a difficult war to fight for the Klankharii, as Stephen and the others had discovered. Consequently, both people now had something in common.


    ¡°How are your people?¡± Hendirim went on to ask.


    Davidson answered. ¡°Our medical officer has begun to take part in medical duties on the colony world,¡± he told everyone. ¡°Most people try not to let her do too much in light of her present condition. John has begun to train the others in how to cook,¡± Davidson continued with a hint of amusement. ¡°It¡¯s been a long standing joke that he always made everyone ill from his own cooking, though he¡¯s actually pretty good at it now.¡±


    John began taking up the art of cooking as soon as everyone was brought to the new home world, alongside keeping busy with his tutoring Edward in the Klankharii language and Mephicia in English. Helen, while she was approaching the second trimester of her pregnancy, was adamant that she would be involved in the medical planning that was to take place with respect to the Earth survivors.


    ¡°Stephen?¡± someone called out.


    Stephen had been letting his mind wander over various people, and he had just started to think of Janet and how she was changing, when he was brought back to the present by Hendirim''s gently but authoritative voice.


    ¡°Sorry, I was miles away,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Did I miss something?¡±


    Everyone smiled tolerantly at him. ¡°We were mentioning how well the survivors were looking since we brought them here,¡± Hendirim told him.


    This was astonishingly accurate, Stephen agreed silently. With few exceptions, every survivor from Earth was looking healthier, more vibrant, younger. Once proper medical infrastructure was in place, any minor, chronic or residual health issues currently being monitored would be fixed. The Klankharis Research Division had put Earth''s medical knowledge to good use.


    There was a knock on the huge conference hall doors. Hendirim pushed a button on the table surface, and the doors swung open. Two guards stood in the doorway, while Miradima passed them into the conference hall. The doors closed again.


    ¡°Apologies for the delay,¡± Miradima told them all. ¡°The testing of the defensive systems around the Sirius system took longer than expected.¡±


    ¡°How did they perform?¡± Hendirim asked.


    ¡°Excellently,¡± Miradima replied. ¡°Power output has doubled, efficiency has increased to ninety-three percent.¡±


    ¡°That is most excellent news,¡± Hendirim replied. ¡°Would you like to sit, fleet commander?¡±


    Stephen gave a start at the title accorded Miradima. He had no idea she had been promoted to commander of the entire fleet. Neither did she, according to her surprised exclamation. ¡°Prime?¡±


    ¡°Your promotion was approved two days ago,¡± he replied. ¡°We are in dire need of strong leadership, ever since Darlamar retired on health grounds three weeks ago. You¡¯ve been the best choice for us since meeting the humans.¡±


    Clearly she had to absorb this information, as she sat slowly, next to Davidson. ¡°Thank you,¡± she replied, clearly speechless otherwise.


    Stephenbelieved strongly that she had deserved such an honour, especially as she was so instrumental in defending Earth against the enemy. Thoughts of what happened haunted him from time to time, and he felt uncomfortable in the hot conference room.


    ¡°It is difficult to get away from, I understand,¡± Hendirim suddenly told him. ¡°Your thoughts are clear from your discomfort. Do you wish to take a recess?¡±


    ¡°No sir,¡± Stephen replied. ¡°Just some unwelcome thoughts. I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Shall we begin?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Miradima replied, pressing a key on a pad she had extracted from her breast pocket. ¡°The plans for a new alliance against the enemy.¡±


    * * *


    Edward was at something of a loss.


    He had minutes ago been notified by the Tau Cetians that Jason and Leila had been caught pilfering from one of the human food stockpiles nearby, and that he would need to visit to address the situation. What had compounded the situation was that John Malakhi was in the area, had attempted to intervene, and was subsequently attacked by Jason. He was angered once again by his son''s insistence on resorting to violence in a situation where violence was not called for, and he was not entirely sure how to go about dealing with this. After further clarification, Edward had been advised that Jason had struck out at John, whose injuries were moderate but not life-threatening or life-altering, and had used the excuse that John was making Leila feel unsafe.


    It was no secret that Jason was very protective of his younger sister, but it was also unlikely that John had meant any harm. Indeed, witnesses to the altercation reported that John made no attempt to approach anyone other than Jason himself, so Jason''s accusation that he was attempting to intimidate or assault Leila was, in itself, a lie.


    That alone made Edward furious. He taught all of his children better than that.


    "Mr. Mensar, the assailant is in the holding cell if you wish to speak to him," one of the English-speaking Tau Cetian guards told him, interrupting his brooding thoughts.


    Edward nodded, stood up and approached the guard. "Take me to him before I change my mind, please."


    * * *


    "YOU BELIEVE THEM?!" Jason roared at Edwardfrom the holding cell that he was trapped behind. The loudness of his voice was modulated by the audio systems that were the only way to communicate with people behind the glass-like window.


    Edward had listened to Jason complain about being manhandled by the guards, wondering when it was that his own son had become so... Whiny, for lack of a better word. Throughout their entire lives on Earth, Jason had no other choice but to defend himself from others, and knew when to keep his mouth shut in the face of odds. This was how Edward knew he was lying with every word he spoke.


    "You lost the right to get indignant at me-"


    "Speak in fuckin'' English, Pops!"


    Edward waited to see if Jason was going to go on and make any other outburst. When he didn''t, he continued. "I am speaking in English, Jason. And as I was saying, you have no right to get indignant at me for-"


    "I DON''T KNOW WHAT THAT WORD MEANS!"


    "And yet I thought I taught you better than that," Edward replied coldly to his son.


    "You know what? FUCK YOU!"


    Edward started to walk away.


    "No, wait! You CAN''T! DON''T LEAVE ME WITH THESE-"


    "If you finish that sentence," Edward turned sharply to face Jason behind the cell, allowing some of his fury to show on his expression. "You and I will never speak again. You will be dead to me, I will leave you to face the authorities of this colony entirely without any support whatsoever, and I will make sure that no-one decent ever speaks to you again. Do I make myself clear?" Jason''s expression was defiant. Edward was ready to walk away. "I asked you a question-"


    "I heard you!"


    "Then wipe that look off of your face before I assume you mean to kill me in my sleep and instruct these guards to take the necessary precautions."


    Jason''s expression changed from angry defiance to shock in an instant. "I would never do that to you-"


    "DO NOT LIE TO ME!" Edward roared. "You steal supplies from common food stores, attack an innocent party whose only ''crime'' was to intervene on behalf of the colony, three months after you assaulted and badly injured his colleague for no good reason at all-"You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "THAT''S NOT FAIR-"


    "Was it fair when you beat him to within an inch of his life just because you chose to jump to a conclusion rather than do even the simplest of fact checks?" Edward glared at Jason, hard. "Did I not teach you better than that?"


    "I didn''t do it!"


    Edward continued to glare at Jason. "That''s the last time you insult me."


    After a moment, Jason resumed glaring at his father again. Edward no longer cared. "You wanna claim insult because you don''t like what I''m saying? Whatever. See if I give a fuck."


    Remembering the trick that John had used last time, Edward maintained the cold expression on his face and simply asked "So what?"


    Jason punched the glass, screaming at his father. The material was stronger than any glass-like material Edward had ever seen, and the glass didn''t even flex or distort. Not a single sound could be heard except over the audio pick-ups. "FUCK THE MIND GAMES!"


    "Indeed," Edward told Jason. "Fuck the mind games, indeed. Starting with your deliberate attempt to lie to the guards who detained you for stealing, your attempt to lie your way out of the situation-"


    "I''M NOT LYING! YOU KEEP-"


    Edward turned to the guard as Jason continued his tirade in words that Edward was no longer listening to. "Can you see to it that his pick-ups are disabled while mine remain active?"


    The guard, a male who had reasonable English speaking skills, nodded. He tapped a few controls on a nearby panel, and the sound from inside the cell ceased. Now the hallway was deathly quiet. It might be comical seeing Jason gesticulate wildly and scream silently at the glass, if the situation weren''t so serious.


    "Now I can hear myself think," Edward continued quietly, while maintaining his glare at Jason. "I suggest you stop throwing your arms around like a crazy person and listen to what I say. It might be the only chance you''ll ever have.


    "You will no doubt continue to lie in the future, as you have done today in the presence of these guards and myself, and no doubt you will continue to deny anything that you have done, but know this. There are cameras set up everywhere that valuable or sensitive items are kept. They caught you stealing from the stores. They also caught you beating your fists against John''s body when he attempted to intervene. They also caught the fact that, at no point, did John approach or even look at Leila. I know they caught all of these things, because I watched the video for myself before coming here, SO I KNOW YOU HAVE LIED TO ME!


    "Now you can tell me again and again how you don''t care about this or that or whatever else you want to, just because you want to behave like a defiant martyr, but that''s not going to work, because you are not the center of the universe, Jason. You do not get to dictate what is or is not important to deal with just by claiming you do or don''t care. That''s not how it works." Edward stopped as Jason screamed silently at the glass again. He didn''t need audio to read what Jason had screamed. He was again screaming that he didn''t care. "Yes, yes, you don''t care. That''s been made abundantly clear. What difference does it make? The only difference it will make is whether or not you will make things worse for yourself, because there is no room in human society any longer for people who do not care about other people than themselves..." Edward stopped to take a breath, his expression softening as he realized what he was about to do. "You don''t care about anyone other than yourself, and you are using your familial connection to your sister as an excuse to brutalize an innocent man. I taught you better than that. I taught you better than to lie to me, or to anyone else.


    "I can no longer do anything to, or for you. Your sister needs guidance, and she needs protection, things that she cannot get from someone who would use her as you have done." Jason threw his fist at the glass again. Edward didn''t flinch. "You can deny it all you want, but you have been proven a liar more than once, so I will never believe a word out of your lying mouth... Ever... Again."


    Jason punched the glass repeatedly. Edward, despite becoming concerned about Jason hurting himself, remained still and kept his expression blank. Eventually, Jason ran out of steam, cradling his wrist.


    Edward continued. "Consider these my last words to you. Any harm you try to carry out against anyone on this colony world or among our allies will be dealt with by the colonist leadership as they see fit. I will not intervene. You will not have me as an advocate or as- I know, you don''t care, you never did care about anyone other than yourself, and now that''s going to come back to haunt you for the rest of your life. You can live with your decisions. You want to steal, you''ll be punished. You want to beat a man, you will be punished. You want to lie about it, you will be punished. And I will see to it that you are punished to the maximum extent that the colony laws permit. You will never see your sister for as long as you continue to lie and to steal from your fellow humans on this colony, and I will see to it that no-one ever trusts a word out of your lying mouth again.


    "Goodbye, Jason."


    Edward then stormed out of there before his cold facade could slip. He knew what he had just condemned Jason to, and he felt bad about it, but it was essential that Jason not know, lest he try to manipulate his father emotionally in order to get out of the consequences he deserves for his actions.


    John was waiting for him outside the holding facility. "I saw on the video feeds," he said somberly. "Damn, Edward. That was harsh."


    Edward blew out a shaky breath. "I know," he said quietly, bowing his head regretfully. "I hated doing it, but what other choice do I have right now? He clearly isn''t going to listen to anyone, and if he''s willing to lie like he has about this sort of thing, what about more severe things that are bound to happen in his future?"


    "Hey, I get it," John reassured Edward, holding his hands to his sides placatingly. "It was a tough call. I just hope it works."


    Edward nodded as he looked back up to John. "Me too," he replied. "How are your injuries?"


    "Actually, pretty minor considering," John replied, flexing his left arm where Jason had punched repeatedly trying to get to John''s head. "Though I gotta say, he''s a damn sight stronger now than he was three months ago."


    That wasn''t much of a surprise, Edward thought. Even the oldest of the survivors was still young enough to benefit from the increased nutritional provisions that had been the staple of their diet since being rescued from the surface of Earth. Edward himself was stronger, faster, and a variety of irritating health problems had vanished within weeks. The shakes that used to plague him daily had all but vanished, and his hands and legs had never felt this steady. No doubt this was true of everyone in the colony.


    "Is there a trained field medic nearby?" Edward asked, hoping that John would not begrudge him wanting to get Jason some medical treatment after the punches he threw at the almost indestructible holding cell glass. "I''m worried he might have broken something punching that glass."


    * * *


    Janet paced like a tiger in the ante-room off of the meeting hall where Stephen and his fellow crew-mates were holding their planning session. Her mood was already in the garbage pits because she had been excluded from it due to her "volatile nature", and now she had been informed by one of her people that Jason had been arrested for stealing from food stores, and for attacking John. Janet had previously been curious about why John was not present for this meeting, and now the question had been answered. She was feeling like a caged animal and needed to unleash all her pent up energies on someone. She knew it was useless, but it didn''t stop her feeling frustrated and angry at the situation.


    While her thoughts continued to storm through her mind, the hall doors opened, and everyone began filing out. Stephen was one of the first to leave, and spotted her pacing just as she spotted him. Both approached each other.


    "What''s up?" he asked, just as she asked "Can we go talk somewhere quiet?"


    Stephen nodded to her and led the way to another building nearby. Like most of the buildings in their colony town, it was utilitarian and sparse, designed to provide limited shelter and privacy for its occupants. This was one of a small number of administration buildings with working areas and a couple of meeting rooms, one of which Stephen entered, Janet following not far behind.


    She had never seen the inside of a clean building like this before landing on this planet, and she had been here only a few months, but she was quickly becoming used to the white walls, fake wooden table tops with sturdy if skeletal metal legs bolted to the floors, and movable green seats that could be adjusted in all kinds of ways Janet had never even thought might be needed but certainly helped when she had to sit in them for any length of time. Stephen had referred to them as office chairs, and she supposed that was appropriate for where they were used.


    Sitting in one of them now, Stephen turned to her. His injuries had healed now, and he was the same as he had been before Jason''s previous attack. Thinking about that assault made Janet''s temper flare again, and she started pacing.


    "Talk to me," he said quietly to her.


    "Fuckin'' Jason again!" She yelled, throwing her arms out as she did and whirling in Stephen''s direction. "He''s been caught stealing from storage areas. Claims he needed to get food for him and his sister, then he beats John when he tried to intervene, and then when he''s arrested, claims that John was making moves on Leila."


    "That doesn''t sound right at all," Stephen commented.


    "No, it doesn''t, does it?!" Janet could not help snapping at Stephen at that point. Jason really was beginning to anger her with his constant defiant behaviour. It was causing problems among the security people whose job it was to ensure no violence or looting took place, and it was inciting others to rebel, when no rebelliousness was called for or of any help to their situation at all. "What''s pissing me off is that she''s backing up his story. I need to get to the bottom of this, and I''m not looking forward to talking to their father about it."


    Stephen''s frown did not help her mood, but his question was innocent enough given he didn''t know Edward. "Why not?"


    "Because he''s obviously going to take their side in this, Stephen!" She stopped pacing, faced a wall and pushed at it with both hands, allowing herself to lean into it, head falling slightly as she let out a frustrated breath. "Jason''s going to be a problem for the colony. He''s always been a wildcard, and he''s always been strong-willed and independent."


    "Those aren''t bad traits," Stephen countered in a quiet voice. "They''re actually very useful."


    "Yeah," Janet pushed herself off of the wall and walked to one of the office chairs near Stephen, sitting herself down in it. "But it needs direction. You know this as well as I."


    Janet would later realize in surprise, that she had very quickly calmed down on her own, that Stephen had helped in that by remaining calm himself, and more importantly, she was far more easily able to reason her way around the colony''s problems than she had ever been able to. For now, she was still concerned about dealing with this problem.


    "Well," Stephen suggested. "Hopefully we will be able to find a good outlet for his mind." Having no other response for the moment, Janet nodded. Stephen continued. "We''d better get Edward in to have a chat."


    Janet felt her chest thump heavily at that one. She definitely wasn''t looking forward to it.


    A few moments later, when Edward had joined them in their room, she was utterly floored by his attitude.


    "I''ve stopped talking to him," Edward announced, an edge to his voice, though his expression remained placid. "He''s gone too far."


    "What do you mean?" Stephen asked. Janet hoped for something to explain this.


    "You both need to see this," he said, extracting a small card from his jacket and dropping it into one of the desk slots. The wall at the end of the meeting room they were in changed color from white to black, and then video footage began to play back. Two views presented themselves. One was a stack of crates in a food storage room, the other was for the corridor outside the building.


    They all watched as Jason and Leila both entered the storage room from the corridor after having snuck past a patrolling guard, beginning to open crates. These crates were packed with MREs, the kind that resembled ready-made foods that Stephen and the others of the Tau Ceti crew had sustained themselves off of while they were inthe artificial gravity environment their ship producedduring their two years in orbit of Tau Ceti 5. Jason started removing them from the crates along with his sister, talking quietly to each other, and removing not one, not two, but dozens at a time. He wouldn''t have been able to carry those, even with his sister''s help. Someone else might well have been needed, and that had yet to be explained.


    John came into view in the corridor, walking past the door initially before seeming to realize that something was amiss. He quietly approached the door and slowly opened it. Jason was then seen to be looking over atthe unseen door in surprise.


    "What are you doing in-" John began, but was cut off as Jason had jumped off camerain one view and into the other view, where Jason had propelled John against the opposite door and started pummeling John with punches. John was defending himself as best he could in the confined space, and within seconds, three Tau Cetian guards-people had intervened and contained the situation. Jason was walked out of view by two of the guards, and Leila had been escorted by the third. John was resting against the wall as playback ended.


    Edward sat down in the chairs opposite Janet and Stephen. "Jason tried to claim that Leila''s well-being was being threatened by John, and that''s why he assaulted him. He didn''t know at that point that I had already seen this footage."


    Stephen nodded silently. Janet was angry still, but for very different reasons to those she had stalked into this room believing were true.


    "I suspected John was innocent of the claims Jason was making," Janet spoke in a low, guarded voice. "How many others know that there are cameras in the store buildings and admin offices?"


    "No-one," Stephen replied immediately. "Only the Tau Cetian security details they''ve established here have the knowledge of their existence, and possibly Davidson and John. I didn''t know they had been put in."


    "Well, after what you''ve seen, now you know why I refuse to associate with Jason any longer," Edward replied, though his voice was strained, and he looked a little haggard. "He''s on his own, and I won''t intervene in any punishment that is meted out against him."


    Janet nodded once, then looked to Stephen. "Court-martial or civilian court?"


    "That''ll be for you to decide," Stephen told her. "You''re more skilled in administration of a population than I ever will be."


    "Is that why they excluded me from your meeting earlier?" She couldn''t help the edge to her voice. It still stung.


    Stephen didn''t say anything for a few minutes, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "I didn''t like that either, but can we talk about that later, please?"


    "We have to earn trust," Edward replied before Janet could say anything else, though she desperately wanted to. "That takes time, and we''ve only been here a few months. Notwithstanding the fact that we are all changing..." he trailed off as he gestured toward Janet''s body.


    It was true, of course. In the few months since arriving at this colony, she had slowly added weight. No longer could she see her own ribcage when looking at herself in a mirror, her hips appeared rounder, her arms slightly thicker, and her skin a slightly darker and far less gray-tinged brown. Her hair had also started to take on a sheen and a silkiness she had never known in her life. Painful hunger pangs were mostly a thing of the past, only ever occurring if she had on the odd occasion been caught up in an activity and forgotten to eat. To avoid gluttonous behavior among the survivors, Helen had distributed nutrition packs and instructions among the survivors about the importance of careful planning of their nutrition. Most people chose to use MREsand vitamin-laced water to avoid having to plan meals. Not everyone could make their own meals and balance their nutritional needs. The results were promising, and Janet felt stronger and healthier than she had ever been in her life.


    "I have been feeling frustrated lately at having nothing for me to think about," Janet admitted. She did indeed feel the need to chew over a complex mental problem, something she neither had the luxury nor ability to do before. She wasn''t the smartest person on the planet. She wasn''t even the smartest person in this room, but she wasn''t a moron either, and her intellect was slowly developing as her health improved. "I''m still hoping I can make myself useful."


    "There''s another meeting about colony management in two days," Stephen told her. "I''m going to insist you be included in it."


    Pessimistically, Janet didn''t believe that Stephen was likely to affect the outcome too much, especially as Davidson seemed to have it all in hand and was still unsure of her, but she was nonetheless grateful Stephen was willing to try. She took his hand and squeezed it, hoping to convey her gratitude. "Wanna go get something from the cafeteria?"


    She did not miss Edward''s smile as he stood at that moment. "That''ll be my cue to go and discuss this with security." With that being said, he stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.


    In the quiet of the room that Edward''s departure left them, Janet let go of Stephen''s hand and took his face in both her hands. "I don''t say it often enough, but thanks," she spoke quietly before landing a brief kiss on his lips, feeling his smile as she did so. He leaned into it, and for some minutes, that''s all they did. "Come on, let''s go get to the Cafeteria before something else happens that we need to deal with."

 Chapter 11: Laying the keel

    11


    Laying the keel


    <hr>


    48 days after the lunar battle


    Davidson and Miradima stood on thebridge of the Kl''Deesius, now completely repaired from its'' combat around the moon. As Fleet Commander, her choice of ship can be anything she wants, but Davidson knew her well at this point, and knew she had a fondness for this frigate they both stood on. Now that she had the resources of Fleet Command, if she chose this as her flag ship, she was empowered by Tau Cetian regulations to make any number of changes to improve the ship. No doubt she would.


    For now, they were aboard the ship, headed toward Earth to witness the first stage of the terraforming process that would restore Earth''s ecosystem. That was not the only reason for returning to Earth. While the bioformers were doing their job, a fleet of corvette-sized maintenance drones were building the dry-dock facility in geostationary orbit of Earth. It was a very high orbit, not one intended to be practical for reaching from the surface, but by the time the planet was ready for habitation again, this ship will have been completed and deployed. By the time people were ready to start building additional ships and ship production was ready to start ramping up, the technology to allow easy transfers from surface to orbit would be in place, and an infrastructure would be ready on both the Earth and the moon.


    Davidson and Miradima were here to see these two projects get underway. Their first destination was low Earth orbit to monitor the deployment of the terraforming pods and drones to start cleaning the atmosphere. These pods launched from the massive orbiting vessel, all on a slowly-decaying orbit, whereupon they breach the atmosphere and break apart, releasing clusters of short-lived bio-organisms that consume ionizing radioactive materials. They settle on the surface of the planet and begin consuming any radioactive materials they come across, digesting radioactive materials and excreting harmless inorganic compounds resembling stable isotopes that would occur during natural radioactive decay, all while tunneling under the surface through any soil, sand, ice or snow, and even sinking through water. They expired after a short time, doing so by releasing a high intensity heat blast that burns their bodies to ashes. All that is left is a mixture of inert particles that cause no harm to any organisms that come across them, and the land that they occupied.


    Released alongside these pods were seedling pods designed to re-seed the planet surface. It had taken weeks to obtain enough samples of what little plant-life remained on Earth to grow sufficient seedlings that this process could begin, and the limits were enough that the native seedlings had to be supplemented with Tau Cetian equivalents.


    While Earth would once again have an ecosystem, it would never again have an Earth ecosystem like there was before the wars that killed off their old one. The surviving populace from the surface might not notice the difference in the various strains of grasses and trees, plants and other flora, but Davidson''s crew would recognize the difference between the green grass and the Tau Cetian aquamarine variety, or the difference between red roses and Tau Cetian indigo thornflowers, the most similar variety that they could source. Only the venerable Oak was among the few surviving species of plantlife from Earth that was being reseeded, along with an extremely limited variety of pine, palm and fir trees, along with the dandelion plant, one of the few surviving non-tree plant species. Corals were gone, as were almost all marine species of life, now having to be replaced with certain Tau Cetian varieties of marine ecology that would maintain the ocean ecosystem in their stead. Avian species were all but extinct, with only the regular housefly and horsefly surviving, and since they were considered pests, they were not recovered for re-seeding. Arachnids of various stripes were recovered where they were found, and a species of scorpion was recovered. Despite what was recovered, major gaps existed, all of which were plugged from Tau Cetian varieties.


    The implications of this ecosystem situation would have to be dealt with at another time, but dealt with they would be, because human beings would need to adapt, albeit in subtle but noticeable ways.


    In addition to this, anything that would be considered harmful to the ecosystem''s restoration, from radioactive deposits left on the surface in broken reactors or vessels in the oceans, to leaked bioweapon contaminants, was being removed. The bioweapon elements were being treated with bio-containment teams armed with a primitive nanobomb dispersal agent designed to target the chemical compounds themselves and then detonate, breaking apart the compounds into harmless elements. The technological remnants were being collected, catalogued, and data on their composition and construction was stored for human analysis down the line.


    Following the quick overview of the progress of Earth''s restoration project, Davidson and Mira then took the Kl''Deesius to the assembly scaffold currently sitting in the Lagrange point between Earth and the Moon. There, the first of Earth''s own fleet of ships was being built. It was barely half the size of the Kl''Deesius, would only be able to maintain a crew of thirty at most, and of the technologies available from the Tau Cetians, only the gravitic field manipulation sciences utilised by the FTL technology had been implemented. As a consequence, while the ship had FTL capability and the ability to manipulate the internal gravitational fields that it could generate, everything else on the ship was devised from Earth''s own technological development at the time the Tau Cetians returned with Captain Greenfield''s mission crew. Thankfully, the ISS Tau Ceti included an extensive database consisting of an overview of Earth''s history, at-the-time current governmental structures, and an extensive database of all the technologies that had been implemented in the construction of the ISS Tau Ceti herself. The medical knowledge that had been incorporated into the database had already been copied and traded with the Tau Cetians in exchange for FTL technology, and a backup of the Tau Ceti data storage had been retrieved from surviving sections of the Habitat Module.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    All other Earth technology would have to be pieced together from the scraps that were left on Earth. This made the catalog process taking place on the surface all the more important for human technological development, and already some of the combat drones Davidson had commanded against the enemy Possessor invaders had been reverse-engineered and their weapons technology cloned. Powerful laser banks would line the dorsal and ventral sections of the new ship from the bow to aft sections. Ballistic weapons would need to make up the heavy hitting capability of the vessel until more powerful weapons could be developed. The Tau Cetian plasma cannons were currently out of their reach.


    However, that did not mean that the first of the Alliance ships built by Earth was a weakling that served only as a token vessel. On the offensive, the Alliance Starship, designated with the moniker Sol, was to be equipped with said laser banks, as well as four high-velocity rail-guns capable of firing 50mm tungsten slugs, four missile launchers at the front and another two at the rear. Defensively, the laser banks could function as interceptors for missile weapons, detonating any incoming payload early by overheating the warhead casings. Additionally, the hull was to be made out of composite armor plating, the first time a spacecraft had ever been built to such specifications in Earth''s history. Even the ISS specifications, which called for protection against particulates colliding with the hull at close to quarter-light-speed, didn''t have hull plating this toughened.


    Over time, the specifications for future A.S. fleet ships would incorporate new technologies and alterations to their design specs. Larger ships were planned, but those would have to wait for more resources to open up from planned mining ops in the Asteroid Belts and the Moon. Those projects would rely upon the construction of the first full-time orbital assemblies around the Moon, with fabrication plants on the lunar surface which had yet to be built.


    So far, only the A.S. Sol was being built for the new Alliance, and this was being handled by the Tau Cetians until the first of Earth''s people could be trained to operate their own equipment. This was the earliest stage of construction, with barely a superstructure already in place. It looked like a skeleton for the most part, with only the FTL powerplant in place and two out of four Ion engines projecting out of the rear of the ship. Construction had yet to start on any other interior elements.


    Davidson received an overview alongside Mira, and both assured the commanders overseeing the projects of their understanding, before deciding to resume their journey. The next stop was planned to enter lunar orbit to oversee the construction of the first assembly structure in lower lunar orbit before visiting the surface to oversee the fabrication plants that would be sited near newly-discovered ore and fuel deposits on the surface.


    Unfortunately, a priority communication signal was received aboard the Kl''Deesius, changing their priorities.


    "Fleet-Commander, we have an emergency priority transmission from Fleet Command," the communications Sub-Commander reported to Miradima.


    "Let''s hear it," she ordered.


    "Fleet Command to Fleet Commander," the message begun. "Priority Home One. Contact Fleet Intelligence with immediate effect on receipt of this message. Dissident factions among the human populace have staged a coup-"


    Miradima wasted no time. "End message. Contact Fleet Intelligence, priority one secure channel."


    Everyone waited impatiently, even though in reality the connection took a few seconds to establish.


    "Fleet Intelligence," the voice reported. To Davidson''s ears, it sounded rather androgynous.


    "Fleet Commander Miradima," Mira replied. "A coup?"


    "Yes, Fleet Commander. Dissident factions on the surface of Midinia have struck against our security forces and have acquired weapons. They are holding several of their own people hostage on the surface. They have presented a list of demands."


    Davidson could see Miradima''s anger at this situation in her slightly reddened face and the whitening of her knuckles as she squeezed her hands into fists. "Who do they have?"


    "Reports indicate that they have everyone from the Envoy mission as well as several key figures from the survivors."


    "Stand by," Mira told the Fleet Intelligence operative, waited for the channel to be muted, and let out a string of oaths in her native language. Davidson was as furious as she was. The Envoy mission, as the Tau Cetians referred to it, was the designation for the journey that the ISS Tau Ceti undertook to the Tau Cetian home-world. This meant that Stephen, Helen and John had been captured and were being held hostage by these thugs. Miradima had calmed herself enough to continue doing her job. "Set a course for home, red-line single-jump. Put me back on."


    "Yes Commander," the communications Sub Commander responded, and the channel to Fleet Intelligence was restored.


    "We are on our way back now. Was there anything else?"


    "Yes, their list of demands is relatively short, but they finished off with the following message: Any attempt to attack us, any delay in getting what we want, and any attempt to negotiate with us, will be met with lethal force against our captives. Traitors to humanity do not deserve any quarter. You have three hours to meet our demands."

 Chapter 12: Hostages

    12


    Hostages


    <hr>


    Everyone braced themselves, as the Kl''Deesius performed a single FTL jump. This was a rare occurrence and a dangerous move, as the maximum safe jump distance for a ship like the Kl''Deesius was ten light-years. A single jump of just shy of 12 light years would cause a lot of stress on the FTL drive of the Kl''Deesius, as well as lessen the accuracy of the final jump significantly, but a drive recharge would take potentially several minutes to an hour depending on how quickly power could be diverted to the power capacitors that fed the drive. As time was of the essence, it was decided that the single-jump over the red-line was the more appropriate course of action, and power was diverted from everything that they didn''t absolutely need, and that included all of the ships'' weapon systems.


    They weren''t expecting to go into combat in their home system, at least not in space.


    "Jump drive charged," the Navigation Sub-Commander reported.


    "Jump," Miradima ordered punctiliously.


    Everyone felt the jump as it began stretching space-time around and throughout the ship, stretching molecular bonds for a couple of microseconds. It was not long enough to actually cause any damage, but it was long enough to be noticeable to everyone on the ship, and it''s what made red-line jumps so uncomfortable for everyone. Miradima would have preferred that a jump gate be installed between systems, but Earth had only just come to their notice in recent history, and so a jump gate linking the two systems was not even on the discussion board yet.


    The moment the jump was complete, the Navigation Sub-Commander reported in. "Fleet Commander, jump complete. We are orbiting the primary star just outside of Khift orbital plane."


    Khift was the designation that the Tau Cetians gave for the 6th major planet in their system, the Gas Giant that the Tau Ceti first met the Kl''Deesius. Jumping within the orbital plane of the planet was a close call.


    "Divert power to propulsion and get us to Midinia as quick as you can," Miradima ordered the Sub-Commander.


    The Kl''Deesius, like every other Klankharii vessel in the Fleet, was equipped with gravitic field manipulation nodes across the hull, and a gravitic drive that was maintained separately from the primary FTL drive on the ship. While the two technologies were very similar to each other and were based on the exact same principles of space-time manipulation, gravitic field manipulation was the primary means of STL travel for the Realm. It allowed their vessels to travel at up to thirty-percent light-speed (although it was rare for anyone to attempt such a move) while still being within the local space-time frame of reference. It meant that a ship could cruise within a given system from anywhere within it, with journeys measured in minutes instead of weeks or months. It was also the reason why large spaceships within the Realm''s Fleet Arm were capable of combat maneuvring in space to begin with.


    * * *


    Five minutes after arriving in the system, theKl''Deesiusarrived in orbit of Midan, the parent planet to Midinia where everyone was currently residing. From there, theKl''Deesiusmade the quick journey to Midinia, and settled into a low position near Midinia''s primary settlement, and just outside the atmosphere. Maintaining this position required substantial power from the ships gravitic propulsion systems, as a natural orbit at this height would normally take the vessel around the planet once every eighty minutes. Maintaining a close watch on the population above this spot was critical as they needed real-time updates on what was going on in the surrounding areas.


    "Realm Security in this region report that the assailants took hostages from within the communal kitchens," the communication Sub-Commander reported. "They were dressed just like everyone else, with loose clothing and tattered rags."


    Despite the ready-availability of clothing produced by the synthesizers throughout the buildings provisioned for human use in the colony, many of the survivors insisted on keeping some of their distressed clothing from Earth. The reasons were numerous, but usually sentimental in nature. In light of this latest atrocity, that policy would have to be revised.


    "It would explain how we knew nothing until the perpetrators had moved into position," Davidson commented, keeping his annoyance under control. They took his friends and colleagues, and they were now threatening to cause harm. This was unacceptable. "That''s something we''re not going to allow in future," he added coldly.


    Miradima could hardly blame him. She was equally furious that this could be allowed to happen. Clearly, they had gotten complacent, believing that their superior technology and obviously superior health compared to Earth''s survivors would be enough to forestall any attempts at disharmony in the temporary colony. She had made the mistake of underestimating the dissidents, and this could be costly to the others on the surface. "Open a channel to Fleet Intelligence," she ordered, and waited for the order to be carried out. "Fleet Command to Fleet Intelligence. Xenex One."


    A response came over the audio systems on the Bridge. "Fleet Commander?"The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "What orbital assets have been tracking this situation while we were out of system?"


    "The data is being routed to your vessel now. Intelligence protocol applies."


    With that, the communication channel was cut. Miradima expected this, since Fleet Intelligence was not one to engage in idle conversation under any circumstances. However, her request was clearly granted, and the Tactical Sub-Commander reported receipt of new tactical data streams within a few seconds.


    "Any live feeds from the area?" Miradima asked.


    "Yes Commander," the Sub-Commander replied. "Do you wish them transferred to any station?"


    "On the main display," Miradima ordered. Immediately, the massive display at the front of the ship was updated. From that vantage point, an exceptionally-clear live image of the ground complex showed a crowd of people surrounding a large pre-fab building, with Tau Cetian security guards keeping everyone at a distance. No-one was within the circle that could be seen from orbit. "Do we have triangulation for this position?"


    "No, Commander." The response from Tactical was subdued, as if disappointed.


    Miradima understood. The additional tracking data and imagery would have allowed the onboard computer systems to assemble a real-time three-dimensional projection of the entire site, allowing a tactical overlay that could have proven useful.


    Still, in this case, it was not to be.


    "Fetch historical imagery for the previous thirty minutes and scan it for activity," Miradima ordered.


    "Yes Commander," Tactical replied. Within a few minutes, he announced "We have it," and without prompting, played back from a few seconds before.


    Everyone watched the view of a milling crowd, all preparing for the day''s next meal. Miradima thought she could recognize John and Stephen from overhead despite not seeing their faces at a direct line of sight. She was stunned as twelve people all suddenly sprung into action, brandishing makeshift weapons, grabbing bystanders and dragging them into the building. Within seconds, despite the reaction of the security teams on the surface, every hostage had been dragged into the building, their assailants covered by dissidents who seemed prepared to throw their lives away for this action. Shortly after that, security had established control and had everyone in the are moved out of the hostage zone, all while being engaged by assailants with makeshift ranged weapons and a few improvized explosives. This harrying action was enough to prevent security from taking control of the building and put them at a clear disadvantage. Miradima watched as one was seriously injured by an explosive, only to thump his chest plate, causing an emergency molecular transportation that removed him from danger. The others were doubly alert and extended the circle outward to ensure no-one else got close.


    Miradima was incandescent with fury, though she kept her temper in check. "Fleet Command to Midinia Security. Come online," she ordered.


    "Security Station Fifty-Three," was the immediate reply.


    "Status update?"


    "Twelve hostages taken, currently held in the human distribution building near the edge of the settlement. Unknown number of assailants. They''ve destroyed all of the surveillance equipment in the building and barricaded the portals."


    "Intelligence reports they''ve a list of demands. What are they?"


    "We are to send them transport ships to take them back to Earth. They''re also demanding we disembark from those ships. They''re demanding we leave the Sol system and leave the humans there with the ships. If we don''t comply, they will start killing hostages."


    Miradima strove for calm. Threatening to kill people that she had come to rely on as friends was a step too far. Stephen. John. Helen.


    "We have molecular transportation," Davidson suggested to her. "They don''t."


    Miradima stared at him for a moment, wondering why she hadn''t considered that as a tool to use as a contingency. "I''m amazed I didn''t even consider that," she told him, keeping her shame to herself. If she were honest with herself, it should have been the first thing she thought of in dealing with this latest threat. "Tactical. We need an internal layout of that building. Can you overlay it and see about getting some radiological signatures of the inhabitants?"


    "Yes Commander," the Tactical Sub-Commander replied, enthusiasm entering his voice for the first time since the crisis began. "Overlay on screen. Thermal scanners inside the pre-fabs were left intact so we have that data."


    Miradima smiled to herself. They probably never considered the idea that the systems used to help ensure an even temperate climate internally in all the buildings could be used to give a thermal graphic of everyone inside. She didn''t have to wait, either. The viewscreen flashed with the building view and an overlay of all the heat signatures inside. Some of them were moving, as though on some kind of patrol pattern. Others were grouped in different zones. The largest group appeared to be held in a central area of the complex, around a surface object of some kind.


    A table, perhaps. Maybe they were planning their next move?


    The downside to this was that no-one could discern who was hostage and who was assailant.


    "Tactical. Mark all of those targets as potential hostiles. Ship Commander to Security Station Fifty-Three. Mobilize a detachment of soldiery to deploy inside the building. We''re going to transport directly inside the building at key locations and then deploy stun weaponry to contain the situation. Have your men ready to move in ten minutes."


    "Yes Fleet Commander," the station coordinator on the line with Miradima confirmed.


    After ten minutes had passed, some orders given and tactical planning concluded, their plan went into effect. The only order Miradima gave was "Now."


    She waited, along with her Bridge crew, Davidson, and the security station coordinator, as a detachment of soldiery were molecularly transported directly inside the building. Their combined tactical knowledge, training, health and numbers quickly overwhelmed the insurgents inside the building, incapacitating everyone.


    "Targets subdued," the commander on the scene reported.


    "Thank you, Lieutenant," the coordinator at Security Station Fifty Three told his ground commander. "Hostiles neutralized, Fleet Commander."


    Miradima didn''t bother to mention that she had heard it. They were following protocol. "Understood. Have the detainees transferred to my ship. We will determine who is who. Fleet Command out."


    The communication link was cut.


    "Transport handshake engaged, Fleet Commander," the Operations Sub Commander reported. "We''re receiving the first batch of prisoners. Routing their transport to the lower Cargo Bays."


    "Walter?" Miradima asked Davidson, hoping he would join her to look over the prisoners.

 Chapter 13: Interrogation

    13


    Interrogation


    <hr>


    Stephen woke up slowly, with one major asshole of a headache. He felt sick to his stomach, and he was pretty certain he had a broken wrist... Again.


    As the fog cleared from his mind, he saw that he was in a medical bunk, once again. This one seemed familiar. It was one of the bunks that the Kl''Deesius provided for medical emergencies. Stephen looked once again at his surroundings, and recognized the interior of the Kl''Deesius cargo hold, where the remnants of ISS Tau Ceti''s command capsule once rested after recovery from earth orbit. He also saw about a dozen other beds. They were slightly different to the one he was in, and he had not seen such an arrangement. While the usual support and anciliary components for a medical bed existed, many of the beds surrounding him also had sturdy brackets on them. Attached to these brackets were cords of what Stephen knew to be high tensile-strength flexible rope material, at the ends of which were restraint cuffs. The beds'' occupants were all chained up using these restraints, and Stephen recognized one of them as the assailant that had invaded their communal dining area and taken him, John and several others hostage.


    Janet was going to be pissed when she found out about the attempt at kidnapping.


    "Stephen?" Davidson called out from behind his head.


    "Not so loud, please," Stephen winced in shock. "I''m awake."


    "Good," Davidson replied in a far gentler tone. He walked into view, and Stephen could see his muscular frame was tensed. He probably wanted to tear a few heads off. "Can you give me a report on what happened?"


    Stephen nodded, dry-swallowing. "Water?"


    Miradima had stepped into view at that moment. She was carrying a flask with her. "I thought you might need some," she said by way of greeting. "Not too quick. The stun bolt probably disrupted your electrical patterns in your brain. You might be feeling nauseated."


    "I am," Stephen replied, containing a dry belch as though his stomach were protesting. He took the flask, toggled the bedside controls so that it inclined him into a more vertical position, and then slowly sipped from the bottle. The hydration helped somewhat, and he carefully sipped a little more. "The others?"


    Miradima frowned, her otherwise generous lips in a razor thin line. "Let''s just say those hostage takers are going to be dealt with harshly. There were some injuries to the other hostages, but we managed to limit the damage."


    "How''d you get back so fast?" Stephen asked. He had known that Davidson and Miradima were supposed to be in the Sol system overseeing Earth''s terraforming and the construction of that new ship humanity was going to command.


    "Redlined a single jump," Davidson told him. "Given the circumstances, we needed to be back here as quickly as possible. Mira will probably put the ship in for a major overhaul to make sure there''s no permanent damage from the jump, but it allowed us to get back in minutes."


    Stephen nodded. He was already feeling better from the hydration. "My wrist might be broken," he told them both.


    "I know," Miradima replied. She glanced off in a direction Stephen could not see, then nodded. "Someone''s going to take a look and see if they can repair the damage."


    Stephen nodded.


    "Can you tell us what happened?" Davidson asked.


    Stephen recounted his experience. He and John were both taking a walk between some of the buildings, taking advantage of the fresh air and temperate climate. The air was laced with fresh plant aromas and a little dew from an early morning drizzle. Janet had to attend to some of her people who had questions about a few upcoming events within their temporary colony, and therefore was not among any of the kidnap victims. As both he and John were walking among the crowds, a number of them threw off their rags - and that was where Stephen had pointed out he should have known something was off because it was too warm to be covered in cloaks, scarves, shawls or anything similar - and grabbed the nearest people to them, dragging them toward the communal dining hall, while firing at anyone who tried to intervene. Thankfully, no-one was seriously hurt this time, but Stephen did note the detonation of at least one IED in the area as the assailants covered their entry into the building. This was all to be expected, given what Stephen remembered of hostage situations from his time in civilization... Before there were the wars that collapsed the previous human society.


    "There was something odd about this situation, though," Stephen cautioned. "I overheard some conversation just before the security guys transported in and took us all out. Two of the guys were carelessly talking about some sort of plan, and how it was a waste of time to be taking hostages anyway. One of them told the other guy that there wasn''t a point in taking hostages because those in charge were never going to meet their demands. The other guy replied that it wasn''t the point. The reason we were being taken was to show force. Show that they could do stuff from under their noses. Then the first guy said something about an exit strategy if they didn''t get anything in the next hour, and planned an escape from the building on foot. They didn''t get to finish, because that was when we were rescued."


    Davidson nodded.


    Miradima stepped next to him, turning to face Stephen again. "The Commander in charge of Security Station Fifty Three has conveyed his apologies about the stunning."


    Stephen frowned. "Miradima, you know as well as I do that sometimes we have to take firm and decisive action."


    Miradima raised a single eyebrow. "That''s what I told him," she smiled. "Still, the sentiment is there."


    <hr>


    Jason was enraged.


    He had just been snatched from the jail facility he had been held in for his "theft". The would-be rescuers were not kind - he ended up with a few bruised ribs and a burst lip, and now he found himself in some dingy room, with a guy who looked like he probably came from Earth in the last few days.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Like everyone else on this fucking planet, Jason had gained weight, muscle and height, and was far more able to think. Any time he looked in the mirror, he could no longer see his ribcage. Instead, he was able to see his muscles had grown somewhat. He wasn''t as big as those goons who had brought them all here, but he wasn''t a skeletal figure either. And with that, he also had a better ability to think.


    He might have used his downtime to think about how he had been dealing with his problems lately. It was obvious even to him, that he had been far too reactionary, aggressive, insensitive, and self-absorbed.


    He might have used some of that downtime to reconcile his actions with that of Edward''s anger against him. He still couldn''t bring himself to acknowledge the parental familiarity right now.


    He might even had tried to make amends with their previous leader, Janet Fletcher, if she would even talk to him.


    But that opportunity had been taken from him as he had been whisked away under cover of some hostage taking scenario that had just taken place over near the communal dining building. So now he found himself in this shitty little room, with some skeletal motherfucker, who wanted to ''talk to him''.


    It was an odd disconnect in Jason''s mind, trying to reconcile the gaunt and almost emaciated look of this individual with everyone else around him, including Jason himself. Fuck, even Edward looked younger and healthier than this guy. What had he been doing, drinking uranium salts?


    "Hello, Jason," the bag of bones said to him.


    "Do I know you?" Jason asked, his words dripping in scorn. "Last I checked, everyone from Earth was undergoing medical work to rejuvinate and heal. You look like you just came out of a fucking nuclear reactor."


    For some strange, fucked up reason that Jason couldn''t work out, the creepy asshole actually smiled at him. Skeletor over there didn''t exactly radiate much in the way of a healthy sheen, his skin was pale and papery, and his hair graying, but his teeth were all present, and gleamed white. It threw Jason off. Not even the people from the ISS mission had teeth that gleaming white (though they were far less stained than any of the other survivors), and they were supposed to be the pinnacle of health among the humans.


    What was this guy''s story?


    "You need only refer to me as A," he said in a grave tone. "Don''t bother asking me any more about who I am, because you''ll only be wasting my time."


    "Wasting your time?" Jason asked scornfully. "So far, the only time that''s being wasted here, is mine."


    "Really?" This A character asked. "You think that sitting in a jail cell with nothing other than you stewing over the injustices done to you by those authoritarian pigs is a good use of your time, do you?"


    That got Jason''s attention. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the emaciated individual in front of him. While he did indeed resemble a weakened survivor from Earth at first glance, it was rapidly becoming clear to Jason that this guy was not a starving wretch from the surface any longer... If he ever was at all.


    And that made him suspicious.


    Maybe this appearance of his was carefully cultivated to make him appear weak, to appear like the others, to appear as though he was indeed a mere survivor from the surface.


    But he appeared to know too much about what was going on around him to be the sort of person to concentrate on their survival. Even during his time on the surface of Earth, when Jason was being set upon by opportunist bullies like the small guy and the fat fuck who had tried to steal his rations and threatened to kill him (only to be executed for making threats against their fellow survivors in the Phoenix colony), Jason could see that while they were devious, underhanded and self-serving, they weren''t all too bright, and had limited support from other like-minded vultures.


    This guy was different. He wore his clothing like it was some kind of uniform. The standard issue loose-fitting clothing the survivors were given on this farming planet was adequate, but it wasn''t exactly tailored to everyone, yet this guy wore his like it was custom-made. While everyone had gotten theirs dirtied through every day living and often went using them for a few days at a time, this guy looked like his was fresh off of the rack.


    His hair, what there was of it, was slicked back and barely a hair was out of place.


    It was clear to Jason that this guy took care to project an image, even though he had never seen the guy before.


    What was this guy''s story?


    "You know what?" Jason replied coldly. "You can do us both a favor by just getting to the point. What do you want from me?"


    The creep actually had the nerve to smile. Smarmy prick. "Actually... I could ask you the same thing-"


    "No you couldn''t," Jason snapped back. "You''re the one brought me here."


    "You''d like me to send you back to that prison?"


    Jason didn''t know what possessed him. "I''d like you to answer my fucking question. Wanna try that?"


    The smile froze on the creepy guy''s face, and then fell away. "You might want to be careful."


    "And you might want to answer my fucking question," Jason barked. He was fast getting pissed off by this guy. Sure, he might have been cooling his heels in a jail cell, but at least there he knew exactly what he was in for. They didn''t try to play mind games with him there. They told him straight, that he was going to stay there until it was time to bring him to trial for his crimes.


    Crimes...


    And then Jason decided. This guy might actually have a use after all. He pushed a little more. "Now... What the fuck do you want?"


    "Hmm..." The unnaturally thin guy smirked, as though he was satisfied with what he was hearing. "You''re... Jason, son of Edward. You have a sister-"


    Jason stood suddenly, fear and fury coursing through his blood. He would have lashed out heavily at the creepy thin guy, were it not for the sudden appearance of two rather more muscled men, grabbing him from both sides. "You leave her out of this-"


    Any hint of levity or humor was gone from the man. "Let me be clear, here," he said coldly, his eyes cold. "You don''t get to dictate terms here, Jason Mensar. The next time you try to stand and fight with me will be the time I order your sister''s throat cut in the night. It doesn''t matter what you say, how you threaten, who you try to warn. You do not hold all the cards here, and no-one will be able to protect your sister if I decide she needs to die for your intransigence."


    "I''LL FUCKIN'' KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER..." Jason struggled against the two strong men, who were like bricks of stone. He didn''t see the glance that the thin man gave to the one on the left, but he felt the gut punch that had him laid out on the floor, and he struggled to breathe for almost a full minute as the punch had winded him so severely he could see stars and was doubled over.


    "I said..." the thin man sneered. "You do not hold all the cards here." The man stepped over to him, glanced at the muscle-bound freak on the left, and then looked down at Jason, who was only now beginning to get his breath back. "Try that again, and she will die," the thin guy told Jason in an almost whisper tone. "Is that clear enough?" Jason glared up at the creepy guy''s face. The guy simply sighed. "No... I can see it isn''t. Explain it to him."


    And with that, the creepy guy walked smoothly out of the room, leaving Jason to the two men''s mercy.


    He was going to kill them all... Every last motherfucking one of them. He was-


    A blow to the side of his face followed by a kick to the stomach abruptly broke his chain of thought, leaving him only with fury and anger... But it didn''t stop there.

 Chapter 14: Repercussions

    14


    Repercussions


    <hr>


    Stephen had been right. Janet was furious. She was busy letting him know just how furious she was during his examination aboard the Kl''Deesius.


    "Stephen, if you think I''m going to sit still for a minute while you give me a bunch of bullshit about how nobody got killed or seriously injured," she snapped at him. "You''re out of your fucking mind."


    He was reeling from her verbal onslaught, even though he knew she wasn''t really angry at him. "Come on, Janet. It could have been so much-"


    "DON''T," she snapped back at him, stepping right over to loom over the bunk where he was sitting with his arm wrapped after treatment. "Don''t even think about telling me it could have been so much worse. That''s my point!"


    "Well,my point is that it didn''t become worse!"


    "It could have been-"


    "But it wasn''t-"


    "You got lucky this time!" Janet seethed.


    "NO!" Stephen barked. Janet reeled back in shock. It was rare for him to raise his voice like that. "Miradima and Davidson are both military experts. They planned the assault that took down the kidnappers. They made sure it didn''t get any worse. It wasn''t luck, it was planning! The kidnappers didn''t get away with it!"


    There was a knock at the door.


    "WHAT?!" Janet roared. It took a few seconds for whoever was behind that door to open it, probably because they didn''t want to face her wrath. "Right," She said more calmly when she realised it was Helen. "What''s the story?"


    Helen had changed slightly in the last four months or so since the lunar base was evacuated. Her pregnancy with Marlon''s child was now in its 2nd trimester, and she was beginning to show signs. Stephen didn''t think of those changes, much less speak them aloud, merely noting they were normal for child bearing. Still, she was now reaching a point where things were going to get slightly more difficult over the remaining four or five months. She sat down in one of the provided chairs. "The kidnapping was a diversion," she said with a heaving sigh. "Several prisoners were broken out of their holding cell while all of the security detail were busy trying to defuse the hostage situation."


    There was a moment in any stormy situation where you could sense a quiet. The calm before the storm, so to speak. Stephen intimately knew that he was facing such a situation right now, as he watched Janet''s blank expression. She stepped away from the two of them, and approached a bulkhead adjacent to the corridor, leaning against it, almost too still.


    Stephen knew what was about to happen. He climbed out of his bed, and approached. Thankfully he wasn''t wired up like last time, given he was only slightly injured and this time it was just his wrist, but despite that, he was still too slow to stop what was about to happen.


    One moment, Janet was leaning against the bulkhead. The next, she slammed her fist into it so hard, that it dented the paneling, and blood smeared the paintwork. She was about to do it again, when Stephen gripped her arm and pulled her back. The look of sheer fury on Janet''s face was enough to make anyone recoil, but Stephen pushed through with what he knew he needed to do. Maintaining a vice-like grip on her arm, he pulled her away from the wall. She struggled against his grip, which was frustrating because of his inability to use both hands, but mainly because she was so much stronger physically, than she had been six months earlier. She very nearly escaped his grip, though where she had intended to go was anyone''s guess.


    "No," Stephen told her. "Janet, no!"


    "The fuck is your problem?" she demanded. "They could have killed you, and for what? A fucking distraction?"


    "No-"


    "They could have killed you!" she seethed, her face reddening, her breathing quickening, and she looked around wildly, as if trying to find a target for her next attack. "Just to cover someone else''s escape!" She could find no such target, and so she turned in on herself, and started thumping her own leg. "They could have killed you, and then you''d be dead, and I''d lose you, too!" The last she wailed piteously as she completely broke down. Helen had intervened at that point, grabbing her fist and trying to make soothing motions across her hand, while Stephen held her close as she sobbed loudly and uncontrollably. She went from trying to punch herself in the leg, to grabbing a hold of Stephen and wrapping him in a fierce hug that was so tight, it threatened to cut off his circulation. In response, he wrapped both arms around her as they both sunk to the floor.


    Helen was still in Stephen''s view, and she nodded toward the back of the med bay. He nodded imperceptibly so as not to disturb Janet any more than she already was, and held on to her, gently rocking her back and forth.


    After some minutes, silence descended upon the room, punctuated by the occasional hiccup. Janet was no longer shaking uncontrollably, nor was she struggling to fight against an uncontrollable unknown. She had exhausted herself and was now lax in Stephen''s arms. He moved to stand, and she squeezed him tight. Not wishing to distress her any further, he remained where he was.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Stephen didn''t quite know what to make of this.


    While he understood her distress and recognized the fear behind it, the reaction had seemed excessive. Was there something else happening that Janet was not telling anyone about? Stephen wanted to know, but had no idea how to ask.


    Some minutes later still, Helen approached the pair once again, this time carrying some bandages and medical agents. Stephen made to take Janet''s arms, and she responded with a weak protest.


    "Let Helen take a look at your hand," Stephen said quietly.


    Janet responded by removing her injured hand from Stephen''s back, but she tightened the grip of her other arm and buried her face more deeply in his neck. She clearly wasn''t interested in anything other than hiding herself in his arms.


    Helen worked quickly, cleaning the swollen, bruised knuckles on Janet''s hand, eliciting an occasional hiss when she rubbed antiviral and antibacterial gel over broken skin. It took very little time, and Helen was a professional medical doctor, so knew exactly what to do with these kinds of injuries. Once she was done, she rubbed anaesthetic over the wound, wrapped it up in a waterproof bandage, and then ensured everything was good and tight so as not to come loose later. "That should be good for the next twenty-four hours, after which we can look at it again."


    Janet gave muted thanks. Her voice was almost child-like, which didn''t surprise anyone given she was barely in her twenties if anyone''s guesses were accurate.


    Stephen nodded his thanks as well. "You OK?" he asked Helen, who nodded. "Sure?"


    Helen sighed. "Just a little tired. Who knew carrying a baby would be this exhausting?"


    Stephen had no appropriate comment, so changed the subject. "Can we talk about... You-know-what... Later?"


    "Probably a good idea," Helen replied, standing with a little difficulty. "Have you been assigned any quarters for today?"


    Stephen shook his head, so Helen approached the exit to the med bay. Outside, she saw a member of the crew, and approached, leaving Stephen in the med bay alone with Janet.


    "You want anything?" Stephen asked her.


    She shook her head in his arms. "Just you," she said quietly.


    This was very unusual, Stephen thought. Janet had been forced to be practical her whole damned life, and this had extended into their time within the colony on Midinia. This degree of almost needy affection was at odds with who she showed everyone she was. Stephen didn''t object, he was fairly demonstrative in his affections as well, but until now, he had held back because she had seemed not to enjoy it.


    Maybe he was wrong? This should probably be talked about.


    Helen stepped back in. "Three Juliet in this section when you''re ready," she told him, and then left again.


    Stephen began to rise, Janet resisting.


    "Come with me," he told her. "We''re going somewhere we can be alone."


    * * *


    Davidson had just arrived at the holding facility on Midinia. He and Mira had just been told that the hostage situation appeared to be a diversionary tactic. There was a dead guard here, the only one who had remained behind to look after the holding cells, and every prisoner that was being held here was gone.


    It didn''t matter to Davidson that only a handful of detainees were released this way. Even a single one showed contempt for everything they attempted to do here.


    The implications were worse than that, however. Davidson understood, just as he was sure Mira did, that this action clearly revealed the existence of an organized dissident movement actively trying to undermine what they were doing here, and in doing so, putting everyone''s lives at risk. By undermining what they were trying to build, and by spreading rampant xenophobia, these people were placing humanity and their new allies at risk against their enemy, the alien lifeforms known as the Possessors.


    Davidson had never seen one, but he had seen the footage from the away mission on Earth''s surface, and he had heard Stephen''s reaction, seen it in his eyes whenever he spoke of it. There was no doubt in his mind, that this enemy of theirs was lethal if not anticipated, and had probably been responsible for the old Earth''s final failure to survive. The survivors needed to be united and prepared for the eventual return, because if there was one thing the Tau Cetians had made clear, is that their enemy had an unnaturally insistent desire to take over every planet in this sector.


    For what purpose, Davidson could only guess. Mira was not in a better position to know either, as she freely admitted any time the conversation came up. Still, the reasons, their motivation, that was all secondary to the fact that they were willing to put vast resources to the task, and it had only been recently that the Tau Cetians had been capable of routing the enemy to begin with.


    Yet with all of this pointless bullshit that certain human groups were doing, it was taking their focus and their efforts away from preparing against this enemy. Davidson should have been setting up a military academy and setting the foundation for a space navy, not investigating a murder in a holding cell and a dissident movement trying to throw them all under a very dark and cold bus.


    The repercussions for this were going to be disastrous if something decisive was not done soon.


    "Who is our dead officer?" Davidson asked of the Tau Cetian guard in charge of the area.


    "Dantir, a Sub-Officer in charge of the holding facility," the Tau Cetian replied. "He had me and my team sent to the hostage zone to try and control the situation," he stopped, frowned, and gripped his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white. "I should have suspected something might happen. It was the perfect opportunity."


    Davidson could indeed understand that reaction. He felt exactly the same way right now. "I should have seen this coming," he told the Tau Cetian in commiseration. "Have you spoken with the security Sub-Commander for this colony yet?" he asked to distract the man.


    "No," came the reply. "She is on her way now."


    Davidson nodded. He struggled to recall her name.


    Within moments, he recognized her, and she had John in tow. "John?" Davidson asked, surprised.


    "Yeah, I''m here as a witness to the HT, and as someone who knew at least one of the prisoners who escaped," he replied in an answer to Davidson''s unspoken questions. "Mephecia here asked me to come along."


    "I did," she added in Tau Cetian. "I will begin investigating why only one guard was left to watch the facility. It was a critical weakness that should never have been left for anyone to exploit."


    Davidson could tell by the tautness of her body language that she was angry, and was keeping a lid on it. He merely nodded. "John, who was the prisoner?"


    "Jason Mensar," he answered with obvious distaste. "Edward''s son."

 Chapter 15: Underground

    15


    Underground


    <hr>


    Stephen had taken Janet to a small bunk facility near the medical bay on the ship. Without preamble, he sat her down on a bunk and then sat next to her. Although she had calmed somewhat, she still held on to him tightly, only now her arm was around his waist and she leaned into his side as they spoke. They had started to discuss what happened in the medical bay.


    "I''m scared," Janet admitted in a small voice. "It''s not like I can order someone executed any more, and these people are taking advantage of the fact that they won''t be killed for threatening anyone."


    Stephen wanted to let out a sigh. He was adamantly opposed to any capital measures, and wanted to argue about it, but he kept his peace for now, hoping Janet would find her own way toward seeing why that was no longer possible.


    She sighed heavily. "I get it," she admitted. "And security did act quickly. I''d still be pissed if it were anyone else, but when I found out you were one of those taken, I wanted to..." her uninjured fist started to clench again, such that her knuckles turned white.


    Stephen took her hand and started gently stroking it. Janet gave a half-hearted attempt to pull it out of his reach, but he applied enough pressure to keep hold of it, looking directly into her eyes as he applied gentle pressure. "I''ll admit," he replied. "If the situation were reversed, I''d probably want someone to pay with violence as well."


    She didn''t reply, instead, she continued to stare at him. Within moments, she had pulled her hand forcefully out of his grip, released his waist, and with both hands, taken both sides of his face and held him as she kissed him vigorously on the lips. Momentarily stunned by this reaction, Stephen didn''t move, but gradually, as he relaxed and reciprocated her affections, his hands began to move almost of their own volition, taking her by the waist, and without thinking, he reached lower, about to cup her butt.


    In an instant, she broke off the kiss, pushed back at him forcefully enough that he fell back against the bunk, and she leapt to her feet, her breath hitched in what Stephen could see was a clear panic response. Then, almost as quickly, a look of utter desolation came over her face, and she fled the room before they had even had a chance to try to fix the misunderstanding.


    Knowing what had happened, very conscious of the discussion they had both had back on the Moon, Stephen walked up to the communication panel. He tapped it.


    "Request intercom link with Helen Deckland," Stephen told the voice assistant in native Klankharii.


    "Stand by," the artificial voice replied. Almost instantly, a connection opened. "Stephen?"


    It was Helen.


    "Hi Helen," Stephen responded with a heavy sigh. "Janet just fled the quarters you had us assigned. I''m not sure where she is, but she''s pretty freaked out."


    "What?!" Helen''s tone was both surprised and displeased. "What the hell''s going on Stephen?"


    "Sorry, I don''t know what it was. I don''t want to assume anything."


    Another heavy sigh. "Alright, I''ll see what I can do." The connection went silent, and the display reported the transmission had ended.


    After that, he sat down heavily on the bunk. He had a pretty good idea what triggered her panic response, but he wished he could have talked it out with her.


    Maybe that wasn''t such a hot idea right now.


    <hr>


    Davidson and Mira spent the next several minutes discussing the assault on the holding facility, looking over the footage the cameras had collected. Those that were hidden had captured everything, while those that were still visible had only captured as much as they could before they were destroyed.


    "Do we know who is behind this?" Davidson asked the group.


    Mephicia answered. "It''s too early to tell more than who was present at the hostage situation, and who was present at the holding cell breach, but those who breached the holding cells knew enough about the surveillance on them that they had timed their assault so they were exposed as little as possible to local guard units, and they wore face masks the whole time."


    "I find it hard to believe that no-one would have noticed a bunch of people around the holding facility were trying to hide their faces," Davidson frowned, not wishing to criticise Mephicia''s work but failing to see how anything might explain this.


    "There''s a good chance they were hiding out in nearby buildings," Mephicia replied.


    "I''ve asked my government to review procedures for assigning guard units to this world," Mira told them. "While I don''t wish to disrupt the self-governing nature of Earth''s people, this should have been foreseen, and the holding facility sighted away from other buildings not ancillary to its'' needs," she added with an apologetic glance at Davidson.


    Davidson held his hands up. "I''m with you on this one," he admitted. "I should have seen it coming even if no-one else did," he barked in a tone of self-recrimination that Mira obviously hated.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "No," she told him tersely. "You''re in charge of planning future Earth military establishment and laying the ground-work for future recruitment. It''s not your job to see to criminal and security concerns among the civilians in your populace," she told him sternly.


    "No," he sighed, letting go the last vestiges of self-recrimination and doubt. "No, that would be with the survivors. We''ll need to talk it over with them."


    "In the meantime, I''d like permission to go over the relocation of the holding facility so that we have more security and fewer places for infiltration to succeed," Mephicia asked in a tone that was half-demand, half-plea.


    "Granted," Davidson immediately told her. "I''ll smooth things over with the others, but I agree, this needs to be fixed right away." He turned to Mira. "What about the escapees? Do we have any idea where they went?"


    She shook her head. "Sorry, Walter. It may not have been executed with military precision, but it was well enough planned that just looking over the surveillance footage gave us no clues. They used people of a similar size and stature to the detainees that they were readily able to have them switch outfits and places. It''ll take some time analyzing the data before we can work out where they went to ground."


    Just their luck, Davidson thought. They really needed to do better.


    <hr>


    ''A'' walked back into the holding room where the kid Jason Mensar was being held. It had already been a few hours since they started the interrogation techniques he had discussed with them over how to break the kid''s will, and they were clearly enjoying themselves.


    If he were honest with himself, ''A'' was enjoying it as well. It was the first time he had a real chance to exercise that part of himself over another. Apparently, this sort of thing went on all the time back on Earth before the ''rescuers'' came back, and he had only seen some of it second-hand through remote surveillance that he had managed to cobble together from his secure shelter.


    Having this kind of hands-on experience was giving him a certain thrill, he realised. Still, he had a task to complete, and he didn''t want it all thrown away by making the kid useless to his plans. He waved the other two off, then looked down at the kid again.


    Oh look... There''s that look of defiance again.


    There was no way that ''A'' could permit that to continue. He needed to break the kid''s will. He would always be a liability and a potential traitor in their midst if he wasn''t completely broken and built back in their image.


    "Ready to talk some sense to us now?" ''A'' asked in a liquid voice. "This would all go easier if you just admitted you are better off with us rather than against us."


    ''A'' wasn''t quite sure what he was expecting, but the kid was rather badly injured from the beating he had just received, so he had not expected the snarling and enraged kick that almost connected with ''A''s shins, but he leapt back in time.


    The kid actually had the nerve to attack him?!


    Schooling his expression into one of calm disdain, ''A'' decided to step it up a notch. "No, I can see you still don''t understand the gravity of the situation. What do you think, C?" He turned to agent C. "I think it''s time we brought his sister in so we can show him what happens to those who defy us."


    "YEAH?" the kid roared like a caged animal. "TRY IT! FUCKIN'' SEE WHAT HAPPENS! I''LL KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"


    ''A'' stepped back carefully and slowly, as this kid snarled, kicked out and tried to fly at him in a rage, but ''A'' knew that the chains holding him in place to the bunk in the room were solid and unbreakable, and he knew that neither ''C'' nor ''F'' would let the little shit anywhere near him. He maintained a carefully disdainful look on his face as the kid snarled continuously at him.


    "He still isn''t getting the picture," ''A'' told ''C''. "Step out and start making plans to bring the girl in. Send ''D'' in to take your place. It''s time we taught this young man a few home truths about his situation and how truly powerless he is against us." And with that, ''A'' slowly lowered himself in a crouch as ''C'' stepped out of the room. "Hear that, Mr. Mensar? It''s a real shame you don''t understand when you need to listen to what you are being told." He paused deliberately, timing his silence so as to draw it out as the kid snarled at him again, throwing himself pointlessly at ''A''.


    "You fuckin'' STAY AWAY FROM-"


    This time, ''A'' bloodied his own hands. Now the kid would understand that ''A'' was more than willing to get his own hands dirty in pursuit of their goals. Before Jason had managed to finish his posturing, ''A'' lashed out at the kid''s face with a sharp knife. It was a combat knife he had managed to have carved based on his own work in the subterranean bunker he lived in his whole life. One of his favourite hobbies was making sharp implements so he could go out and scavenge if his supplies ever ran out, and one of his favourite designs had been an elaborate combat knife with a smooth, sharpened edge on one side, and a serrated one on the other. Perfect for gutting people if necessary.


    ''A'' watched dispassionately as blood dripped down from a clean and deep cut to the boy''s cheek. "You were saying?" ''A'' asked in a quiet, almost soft tone of voice. "Let me make it clear to you again," he said gently, just as ''D'' stepped in to take the place of ''C'' from earlier. ''D'' was a real brute of a man, far more at home with blunt force trauma, and someone apparently from a shelter near California back on Earth. He had the build of a brute with a temperament to match and a limited ability to initiate and carry through on instructions, whereas ''C'' was far more intelligent, and capable of carrying out complex plans flawlessly. "You don''t get to dictate what we do here, Mr. Mensar," he told the kid, his tone hardened. "The sooner you understand that you have no business trying to threaten, bully or cajole me into anything whatsoever, the sooner you will find yourself in a better position to do something useful for your fellow human beings."


    ''A'' couldn''t care less about the other pathetic wretches from Earth, but it made for good speeches.


    Unfortunately, Jason was not an idiot. "Like you give a fuck about anyone other than yourself," he spat.


    ''A'' sighed, not bothering to respond. "''D'', teach this youngster some manners, would you?"


    ''D'' threw a kick to the boy''s face, breaking his nose and spraying the floor with blood. With a wave, ''A'' had ''D'' withdraw.


    Surprisingly, Jason was still glaring at him.


    "No," ''A'' sighed in mock pity. "You still don''t get it, do you? Any time you glare at me and show your defiance, you just hit home the point that you still need teaching-"


    "You''ll never break me," Jason spat.


    ''A'' sliced at him again, this time, slashing across his forehead and down the opposing side of his face to where the cheek slash had happened. The cut started bleeding profusely, and after a few moments, Jason''s face started to turn white.


    ''A'' was amused that the boy had apparently gone into shock. "Oh no, boy, you''re not going to pass out on me," he told him. "''F'', grab the electrical cabling and get ready to shock him the moment he passes out."


    This was going to be fun, ''A'' thought with glee. Jason Mensar was going to be broken, whether he liked it or not.

 Chapter 16: PTSD

    16


    PTSD


    <hr>


    Helen took a while to find where Janet had hidden herself, since while many sections of the Kl''Deesius remained locked off to non-essential personnel or visitors, the corridors themselves were not. It meant that Janet could continue wandering them alone without impediment. While the crew of the ship were under orders not to interfere with humans, this meant that she would essentially be left to her own devices.


    Helen eventually spotted her, walking energetically around a junction, clearly flustered. She tried to catch up, and while she was normally fit and healthy and tried to keep that way, this pregnancy was slowing her down and making her feel more drained than was useful right now. Eventually, she had no choice but to slow down her pace, with no other option but to call out.


    "Hey," she tried to shout loud enough to be heard, but the jog had winded her, as she held herself up against a bulkhead in an attempt to catch her breath.


    Janet turned back, a frown on her scarred face, which soon cleared to a look of concern when she saw Helen almost doubled over. "Hey, what the hell''s wrong with you?" she asked bluntly.


    "Nothing," Helen told her, attempting to inject some levity into the situation. "Baby doesn''t like... when I run around... Wanted me... to know it!"


    "Come on!" Janet told Helen, taking one arm and throwing it over her shoulder, putting her arm with the still-injured wrist around Helen''s waist. "How far''s your medical again?"


    It took a few minutes, and Helen slowly eased back into normalcy as they casually walked back to the medical bay, but eventually, they were back inside, and the doors closed.


    "Seal the doors from external access and set a D.N.D until further notice," Helen ordered in the Tau Cetian language. A tone sounded, and Helen now knew that no-one was getting into this room unless overridden by Miradima herself. "I wanted to come see how you were doing," she then asked Janet.


    Now that the immediate concern for her fellow human was taken care of, Janet started to pace again, her face a mask of distress and a sense of shame. This worried Helen greatly.


    "Hey," Helen tried again, much more gently. "Talk to me."


    "I don''t know what to do," Janet wailed, barely holding on to her composure. "Why is this happening?"


    "What is happening?" Helen gently insisted, lowering herself to the medical bunk. It was a psychological tactic, which Helen hoped would encourage Janet to sit as well.


    "So I went with Stephen to that room you had set up for us," she began, her breath shaky. "I clung to him like a... Whatever... Anyway, we talked about what happened. I told him I was scared and angry about him getting hurt. He admitted he might feel the same way..."


    Helen was not surprised by this. Stephen was fiercely protective of his friends. His long-standing friendship with John was testament to that. "Yeah, I suppose he would."


    "Yeah, so then..." Janet stopped, her face going white, and she swallowed heavily. This kind of violent reaction to whatever went on concerned Helen greatly. She was suddenly alert, and was about to press further, when Janet continued. "I don''t know why, but I got it into my head that I wanted to kiss him. So I did..." She stopped again, her breathing becoming dangerously shallow and rapid.


    "Janet," Helen immediately took control of the situation, taking a firm yet soft tone in an attempt to reassure her. "You''re having a panic attack. I need you to listen carefully to me, OK?" Helen then stood up and approached her, looking directly at her face. "You can look at me, or close your eyes, but listen to what I''m telling you now. You''re in a safe place, and won''t be hurt here. Now..."


    Helen had her go through the mechanical process of breathing slowly. It was something she often had other patients follow whenever they exhibited symptoms of PTSD, and was frequently used whenever any military veterans she had attended started to have panic attacks. After a few moments, Janet''s face had some of her usual color back in it, and her breathing was more regular.


    "Alright," Helen exhaled slowly herself. "What happened next?"


    Janet''s face turned red. "Well... So we were kissing, and then his hands started to roam around... You know?"


    Helen had to ask. The violent reaction she had exhibited earlier had to be explored, even if she didn''t believe the answer to her question would be an affirmative. "Janet, this is important. Did Stephen assault you?"


    The reaction was surprising. Janet''s face was a picture of incredulity, and then anger. "What?! You know him better than-"


    "Yeah, I''m sorry," Helen immediately assured her. "I know, I know, and I''m sorry, but I had to ask."


    Janet was somewhat mollified. "Why?" she still asked, wanting to know, which Helen supposed was fair.


    "Alright," Helen began to explain. "What you just showed signs of was severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."


    "What the fuck is that?!" Janet asked, clearly having no patience.


    "It''s what happens when people go through trauma in their lives. Sometimes the mind gets into a state where sometimes things are triggers. A memory might cause a panic. Someone saying something. A word. A sound. A smell. Anything. When that happens, you go into panic as though you were in real danger, even though you''re not."


    Janet frowned as she thought about it. "Is that what you were doing with the breathing exercises just now? Trying to take my mind off of it?"


    "Partly," Helen told her. "Partly because it stops you from fainting. If someone hyperventilates for too long-"


    "If someone does what?" Janet asked. Helen should have realized that Janet''s medical understanding would be rudimentary at best.


    "Breathes rapidly and too shallow. I''ll explain later," Helen told her. "Anyway, I wanted to get you calm so we could talk, and that was the best way to get you there."


    After a moment''s consideration, Janet nodded.


    "So you know what triggered it this time?"


    The sigh that Janet gave this time was shaky, and her breath hitched. Then for a few moments, she seemed to stop breathing, as her head fell into her hand, and her shoulders shook. Helen decided to wait it out. "We were kissing... His hands started to reach lower... And I panicked and pushed him back on the bunk. Stood up feeling like I needed to get out of there."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Not wanting to derail her retelling of the story, Helen waited.


    Janet continued, her face blotchy with tears. "The look on his face... I thought he''d run off and leave... So I did it for him."


    Helen frowned at this. She wasn''t sure what Janet was talking about, so she pressed for more. "Do you remember why you panicked?"


    "Yeah, I started to see flashes of what happened to me back in Phoenix."


    "Just now?"


    Janet frowned. "No, back in the room. I... I hate it when it happens!"


    Helen supposed she was right. "What about this time? What caused it a few moments ago?"


    "It wasn''t a trigger or anything," Janet whispered. "I just... I realized that Stephen''s going to be disgusted by me now. He''s going to want to stay as far away from me as he can and-"


    "No, he''s not!" Helen snapped, immediately regretting her loss of professionalism. "I''m sorry, I don''t mean to snap at you."


    Wiping her face, Janet could not help the shake to her lips or hands. She clearly felt distressed that Stephen had been at the receiving end of a panic reaction, and Helen wanted to reassure her on that point. Janet didn''t give her a chance just then. "It''s not fair! You love a guy and try to do anything you can for him, and then when you get scared they start to look at you like you''re broken and not... Now he''s not going to want to come near me again!"


    "Hold on a minute," Helen backtracked. "What did you mean, you love a guy?"


    "You know, when you want to be with someone and you..." Janet was lost for words on that subject.


    "Do you mean ''When you are attracted to someone and want to have sex''?"


    "No, I do not mean ''When you are attracted to someone...'' Dammit! I mean when you love a guy, as in when you bond with them to the point that you want more than just sex or whatever."


    Helen supposed that Janet had a right to be incensed. She had just insulted the girl''s understanding of adult feelings without meaning to. "Sorry, that was stupid of me. But listen to me when I tell you that I know Stephen better than you do at the moment, and I know he understands a lot more than you do about panic attacks and what causes them. He''s going to know what happened is neither your fault nor his." Janet still didn''t seem convinced. "Tell me, what makes you think Stephen won''t understand?"


    "Because Simon didn''t!" Janet half-barked, half-wailed. She managed to get a better grip on her response a moment later as she continued. "After a few weeks together, Simon and I started to experiment a bit. It was OK for a while, until..." She sighed heavily. "One day, while we were... I''ll spare you the details. Anyway, I suddenly had a freak-out, pushed Simon off of me, and stepped back. He looked confused, and tried to start back up again. I told him no, I didn''t want to any more, and he asked what he did wrong. I tried to tell him nothing was wrong, but he refused to take it, and stormed off. Since then, he barely looked at me any more. We... We might have broken up eventually, but we were too busy fighting for our lives and the issue never really came up. That night was one of the last times Simon and I touched each other, and he stopped pursuing me after that."


    Helen refrained from commenting. To her, it sounded like Simon had a very messed up view on how to deal with trauma sufferers and sexual relationships in general. It sounded to Helen, in fact, that Simon might have been somewhat immature on the subject, something that Stephen was unlikely to have any similar view on, and that''s without knowing him that intimately. Still, she needed to get this squared away so they could all move forward.


    "Janet, this question''s important, so please answer honestly," Helen began slowly. "Are you asexual?"


    Janet frowned. "What does that mean?"


    Helen should have seen that coming miles away. Sex education in a post-apocalyptic environment was bound to be virtually non-existent. "It means that the idea of having sex doesn''t make you want to do it, doesn''t make your insides flutter, doesn''t make you-"


    "Right, right," Janet interrupted. "No, definitely not. Just busy at the time. Now? When I''m alone and I think of Stephen-"


    "Say no more," Helen immediately cut her off. "I don''t need to know the details, but thanks for clearing that up for me."


    "Why did you ask, anyway?"


    "Because you and Stephen are going to have to have an honest conversation about this. You''re going to have to lay everything out for him, and let him know what you expect, what you feel safe with, and how best to let you handle things if you ever feel trapped again. Your enjoyment of sex is going to clash with your trauma, and that¡¯s something you both need to find a way to cope with for a while."


    Janet frowned for several moments, as she puzzled over what Helen had told her. "Why would I ever feel-"


    Helen cut her off. "There is no why. That''s one of the problems with PTSD. It can happen to you at any time, and you may not always know what set it off, but I promise you this, it''s not something that you can just switch off. It will happen again, and you just need to learn how to deal with it when it does, so that both of you feel safe and well in the shortest time possible. How do you feel about doing a bit of reading?"


    Janet shrugged. "I can deal with it," she replied. "I guess I should talk to Stephen and see how he is, but I assume you have some stuff I can look over?"


    "A pretty comprehensive guide to how to deal with a healthy sex life," Helen told her. "I''ll apologize in advance, it''s geared toward adolescents, but it should get the point across. I''ll also include a few more advanced essays on the subject so you can make use of the knowledge they contain as well. Some of it will be very useful to PTSD sufferers who want to have a close intimate relationship with their partner."


    It took a few minutes for Helen to transfer the data to a data tablet that Janet could read at her leisure later, but eventually, she sent her patient off to rest and to read up. As soon as she did that, she contacted Stephen and let him know that she had seen Janet, and to expect to see her coming back shortly.


    <hr>


    Janet walked back to the bunk room she had previously fled from. Unlike last time, she did not pace wildly, but instead took a slow stroll, reading the tablet device she had been given, skimming most of the primer stuff that she already understood. As she approached the door, she switched the device off, took a deep breath to control her nerves, belatedly wiped her face, and waved her hand over the entry panel.


    Surprisingly, the door immediately opened, and she stepped inside.


    Stephen was sat on the bed, looking like a little lost dog. It was enough to break her heart all over, and she almost lost it there and then. Steeling herself against any behavior that might cause a misunderstanding, she stepped into the room and waited for the door to close, then tossed the data tablet onto the nearby desk and approached Stephen, who looked at her sheepishly, as though he had done something wrong and needed to apologize.


    "Stop looking at me like you''ve shit the bed," Janet snapped, then giggled at his expression, before bizarrely dissolving into tears again. "This is fuckin'' ridiculous," she wailed, railing at the fact that three times in the space of a single day, she had dissolved into floods of tears and gotten herself in a distressed mental state at least twice. She didn''t even feel particularly sad or distressed right now, she wasrelieved, for fuck sake, so why was she losing it?


    Stephen did not disappoint her, though. He wrapped her up in a hug that felt oddly close and protective, as though he wanted to do more than hold on to her. She stopped trying to control her reaction, instead basking in his acceptance of her. It felt even more relieving to be able to relax completely in his arms, and within moments, she felt her equilibrium return, enough that she stopped fucking crying like a kid who had her food stolen by the thugs at the shelter.


    "Feel better?" He asked, his tone gentle and comforting.


    She didn''t immediately answer with words, instead, she maneuvered herself so she could put both arms around him and kiss the side of his face, which she did firmly and for several moments. "Did Helen contact you while I was on my way here?"


    Stephen nodded, and Janet pulled back so she could look him in the eyes. "She told me you had something to tell me?"


    "Yeah," she said quietly, sighing, but she held his gaze and refused to look away. "I''m not sure how I''m going to get this out, and it might not all be today, but I want us to... I want to make sure we..."


    "What?" Stephen prompted when Janet couldn''t find a way to say what she wanted.


    This was ludicrous, she railed at herself.Just fucking say it already!


    She didn''t know exactly when it happened, and she didn''t know when exactly she realized that she had, but there was no mistaking how she felt now. After everything that happened today, Janet had never been more sure of anything in her life. Not even Simon could earn her trust or her heart in the way that Stephen had, and his reaction just now gave her the push she needed to stop kidding herself and finally admit it out loud.


    "Fuck it," she said indelicately. "Stephen, I''m just going to tell you straight," she sighed, kissing him on the lips again, this time far more gently than the last time she did. She could feel the reaction it caused within him, but decided not to comment on it so as not to ruin the moment. "I love you."

 Chapter 17: Realization

    17


    Realization


    <hr>


    "You love me?" Stephen asked, intellectually puzzled by Janet''s revelation, even though his heart soared, his entire body flushed with a warmth he hadn''t felt in years, and he felt a familiar flow of ecstasy, one which started months ago when they first met, and was becoming all the more frequent these days. "But you barely know me."


    Given that she had been through the emotional wringer today, even just a few minutes ago, Janet''s voice was remarkably calm as she asked "Stephen, do you remember what we spoke about the last time we were on this ship?" He had to think for a minute. There was a conversation about how she quickly got to know someone, how it had been a survival attribute of hers to determine trust from suspicion when it came to people. He was about to answer when she beat him to the punch. "I said at the time that I didn''t need long to get a good idea of who a person is, that years of surviving on the surface below had honed my instincts about people."


    Stephen nodded. "I remember it now."


    "You also said at the time that I sure moved fast," she told him with a one-sided smile, which quickly disappeared beneath her solemn gaze. Stephen had been surprised, since at the time when he made that quip, he was sure she hadn''t caught his meaning. "I was right about you then, and I''ve never been more sure about anything in my life now."


    Without thinking, he reached forward and kissed her on the lips, and then immediately pulled back, hoping he hadn''t set off some kind of trigger. He needn''t have worried, as her face was placid, with the barest hint of a smile on her lips, one that was reflected in her eyes. Her arms, already embracing him in an intimate embrace, tightened ever so slightly. He realized then, despite knowing her only a few months, that he knew her well enough to know he loved her too, even if there were times she could be infuriating with her hot-headedness. Instead of telling her, which would have been inappropriate given the way they were currently sitting with each other, he simply resorted to wrapping his arms around her waist again, pulling her gently closer to him and kissing her lips once more.


    This time, she did not push back, and did not make any attempt to stop him, and within moments, their kiss had turned passionate, the heat within them rising quickly.


    He had stopped them this time, pained by the look of hurt on her face as he did so. He did not push her back very far, only enough that they could talk, and he maintained his hold on her. "Can we talk about what happened earlier?"


    With a deep sigh, Janet nodded. "I guess we should," she admitted.


    "When I... Did what I did earlier..." Stephen felt himself unable to articulate what he wanted to say, in trying to avoid causing any upset. He wanted to avoid coming straight out and mentioning how he had started to explore her with his hands, and how it triggered a panic response, for fear of triggering another one.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Janet''s head dropped slightly, and she rested it against Stephen''s. "I was afraid of this happening," she said in an almost-whisper. "I''ve been worrying about it for weeks... That if we were going to start having fun together, I might be freaked out, and then you would see I was damaged goods."


    Stephen was aghast. These words were literally out of the worst late 20th century attitudes to women and sex. Their attitudes to people having PTSD during sex, or to those who had even a cursory history of victimhood of any sex crime whatsoever, was to dismiss such people as damaged goods, as though they were property, as though they were only worth whatever fun their bodies could give to others. It was disgusting to Stephen as it had been to his parents, and to his friends, as Stephen would be sure it was to Helen, or to anyone else in civilized society were it to exist today. This was something he desperately wanted to set the record straight on.


    "Janet," Stephen told her, maintaining eye contact. "I need you to understand something right now. You arenot property. You arenot goods, damaged or otherwise. You are aperson-"


    "Stephen, I know that," she protested weakly, though her heart wasn''t really in it, he could tell.


    "Then know this," he persisted. "Your worth to me is not defined by how you like to have sex, or whether you pushed me away in fright through something that happened long before you and I ever met." He stopped, holding her stare so that he could let those words sink in. "Your worth is far deeper than that. The only thing I would ever expect of you is to let me know what you feel safe doing... To set limits, and to let me know if you feel the need to step away for any reason. You haveevery right to expect me to immediately cool off if you panic and need us to stop whatever it is we are doing at any moment, and you haveevery right to expect me to treat you like a person, as someone who is desired and who desires in return. Whatever else you need, or whatever you want to give, all we need is to make sure we both understand each other, and most important of all, is thatyou feelsafe around me. That''s all that matters to me."


    He meant every word he said.


    The intense look she was giving him at that moment felt good. Somehow, he knew he had reached her at that deep core of her personality, and she understood his meaning. "And you are surprised I love you so fucking much?!"


    His smile was one of confused joy. "It''s only right, though, isn''t it?"


    Stephen noticed that Janet''s face had suddenly streaked with more tears, even as she was smiling. The exasperated sigh she let loose as she impatiently wiped at her face again was endearing. "Fuck sake," she said, her tone frustrated. "I''m happier than I''ve ever been, and this is happening?!"


    "It''s because you''re happy that this is happening."


    She shook her head, letting out a shaky breath, almost laughing as she did so. "I don''t think I''ll ever understand."


    That didn''t matter to Stephen. He understood it well. In fact, with few exceptions, he was far more likely to shed tears at his happiest and most sentimental moments, like this one, than he ever was to do so at times of deep sorrow or crises. "Just go with it," he told her, pulling her back into a hug, which this time, she gracefully accepted, giving him a firm squeeze as she did. "There''s always another time to talk about anything you''d like," he said, rather than try and ham-fist his way through the subject of her panic attack earlier. "Now''s the time to just relax and rest."


    "Will you stay with me for a little while?" She asked, her tone surprisingly playful.


    Kissing the side of her head, he told her "As long as you''d like."

 Chapter 18: Protecting the survivors

    18


    Protecting the survivors


    <hr>


    "We need to go," John told Edward at the man''s temporary dwelling at that moment.


    "John?" Edward asked in reply, surprised by a visit. "What''s happening?"


    "Didn''t you hear?" John asked incredulously. "We need to get you and Leila to safety. Jason''s gone missing from the holding cells."


    Edward''s heart skipped a beat. "What?!"


    "We''re still trying to piece together what happened," John tried to explain. "There was a hostage situation at the central mess hall earlier today. We managed to resolve it pretty quickly thanks to Davidson and Miradima, but it was just a cover for their little jailbreak. Jason wasn''t the only prisoner taken, and we''re trying to move anyone connected with those that were broken out."


    Edward didn''t need any further prompting. He called out for his daughter and then followed John.


    The journey was relatively swift, meeting up with Mephicia at the entrance to the building, and then moving at something of a jog trot toward another building not too far away.


    ''C'' frowned as he saw someone walk up to the building that he had discovered prior to when they took the kid from the jail-house. After watching the place for almost an hour to make sure it was occupied, he was about to move in and grab the girl when this fool showed up.


    The guy stepped in... Then quickly stepped back out, with an old guy. Some bulked up Tau Cetian bitch met up with them and started escorting them away from the building, headed off some place ''C'' could only guess.


    This was about to get messy, but he had a job to do, so he tailed them.


    <hr>


    John felt the hair on the back of his neck start to rise, as the air turned cold from a gust of wind. At the same time, he caught something out of the corner of his sight, swivelling around to look at what it was.


    Nothing out of the ordinary. People milling about, going about their business.


    He stepped up to rejoin the others, jogging on to their destination, a transport facility where cargo and personnel could be teleported from ships in orbit to a designated site.


    This is where they would take Edward and Leila, and where they planned to bring the others.


    John and Mephicia had both surmised that there was a strong chance that whoever took those prisoners either needed them for something, or was just plain nuts. In either event, any uncooperative prisoners might need to be coerced through some form of leverage, and John knew in Jason''s case, that leverage was his sister Leila. He and Edward might not be talking to each other these days, but they were still blood, and John doubted Edward or Jason would be pleased of the other got hurt, so, they were going to the one place that they could almost guarantee their safety.


    The Kl''Deesius, safely up in orbit, accessible only by teleport.


    "Alright," John told them both. "We''re here." While John was talking to Edward, Mephicia was requesting transport for two people in her own language. A confirmation tone sounded, alerting John. "Stand on the pads, don''t step away from them for a few seconds. You''ll be up there shortly."


    Edward nodded. Leila gave a very shaky nod, betraying her nervousness.


    John nodded to Mephicia, who tapped her communicator and instructed the transporter to proceed.


    In a flash, Edward and Leila vanished off of the pads, their silhouettes quickly dissipating.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Neither John nor Mephicia saw the large, stringy male step inside the building, and didn''t notice him until he was almost upon them. The heavy whack that was intended for the back of John''s neck might have killed him were it not for Mephicia seeing the assailant, and propelling John out of the way at the last moment. As it was, he felt his shoulder blossom in extreme pain from a blow that he had no doubt was intended to break his neck.


    As he was propelled to a nearby wall by the force of the blow, falling to his knees, he turned to see Mephicia grappling with the man. She was strong, powerful, her leonine physique straining against the other guy''s bulky mass. John had no idea how this guy could be so big.


    But Mephicia was slowly losing ground, and as she realized her predicament, she instead pulled him around, over her shoulder, and was rolling so that he would land on the ground and her on him as a cushion. Surprisingly, the bulky guy grabbed her by the waist and rolled over so she was on the floor, and John caught a gleam in his eye.


    Oh no way, you fucker, John thought, enraged by the idea that someone could be so bold as to entertain the idea of sexual assault during a brawl. He leapt up and ran toward the guy on the floor, jumping onto his back and grappling him in an arm lock, trying to pull him off of Mephicia.


    He struggled to get his arm around the guy''s neck, but it was no good. The guy was just too powerful, he couldn''t get anywhere... And a moment later, he was horrified to see the guy had pulled a sharp object from his pants, plunging it into Mephicia''s chest and causing her to let go.


    With a cry of rage, John renewed his efforts to choke the big guy, but again, to no avail. Instead, the guy lifted him up off of the floor, ran backwards, and started slamming John into a nearby wall. Given it was a pre-fab wall designed to shelter from the elements, the walls were weak, and John felt them collapse as he hit them. It was still enough to cause him to lose his grip, falling to the floor.


    Before he had a chance to react, before he could even cry out, the big guy had plunged his shiv into John''s neck, watching as blood spurted out of the wound. John felt his head go light, his mind go woozy, and then he lost consciousness.


    ''C'' was breathing heavily after the brawl he was in. He was big, and he was strong, but he wasn''t meant to keep up a fight like this for long. That''s what the shiv was for, to end an opponent quickly before he ran out of steam himself. Still, this one was close, and as he watched both the guy and the security bitch bleed out in front of him, he knew he had fucked it up. He knew that ''A'' would be displeased.


    His quarry had gone to ground, and was now out of their reach.


    In an act of malice and frustration, he kicked the guy in the ribs, hard, despite the fact that there was no fight left in the guy, and as he continued bleeding from his throat, his face turned white, and he collapsed.


    ''C'' watched, uncomprehending, as the security woman grabbed John''s leg now that he was within reach, and then, as she struggled to reach for something on her belt. He had no idea what it was, but he suspected it could be a weapon, so he started to approach, intent on putting her out of her misery, but as he started to raise his foot to her head, she pushed a device on her belt. Both her and the guy disappeared in a flash of light that temporarily blinded ''C''.


    When he regained his vision, he looked around, frantically. Where did they go?


    In a fit of anger, he put his fist through a partition wall, and stalked out.


    <hr>


    Stephen lay with Janet on the bunk in their assigned quarters aboard the Kl''Deesius. Mostly, things had been quiet after her confession to him earlier, the odd bout of discussing trivial matters, but mostly silence. It was comfortable, though. She said little to him for the next hour, but her hands slowly rubbed against his chest as she lay curled up against his side.


    For now, he was perfectly content.


    "When we''re done up here, you wanna go get a chocolate malt?" Janet asked, looking up at him with uncharacteristically adorable puppy-dog eyes.


    Stephen looked down at her face, mulling it over. Any excuse to spend more time with her was a good thing, he thought to himself, although what passed for chocolate on this planet left much to be desired, even compared to the stocks that were on the Tau Ceti when the vessel was still intact. "Sure, you thinking of grabbing one and taking a walk through the colony streets?"


    She nodded, a slow smile appearing on her face. "Then after that, maybe we could go over to my place?" Her tone was hesitant, as she started to curl her legs a little, blushing. "I-I know I could be flighty, but..."


    Stephen could kiss her right now, but contented himself with gently stroking his hand through her hair where it lay on his chest, and nodded to her, giving her a reassuring smile. "I''d love that."


    Her smile deepened, and after a moment, she pulled herself up so her face was next to his, and they started to kiss, gently at first, but slowly becoming more vigorous.


    An alert tone sounded outside their quarters, causing Janet to jump in alarm, looking around for the source of the noise. Within a moment, she had let out a sigh as she realised there was no immediate danger, but Stephen frowned.


    He knew that tone. It was an alert tone for a medical emergency...


    "Fuck!" He called out. "Honey, I gotta go see what that is," he told her, and she immediately lifted herself up, giving him room to move. Without realising he had done so, he had given her a cursory kiss on the lips as he started for the door, but didn''t protest when she followed him out.

 Chapter 19: Medical Emergency

    19


    Medical Emergency


    <hr>


    Helen was already working in the medical bay of the ship when the emergency alert came in over the ship intercom. At that moment, four people transported into the medical bay''s emergency transport zone. Two of them were Tau Cetian security men, presumably from the guard substation near the colony on the surface, and two injuries.


    Helen felt a pang of horror as she recognized both John and the security liaison he had been working with. Both were unconscious, both extremely pale, and both had open wounds, John''s bleeding from the neck.


    The security officers lifted one of the bodies each and placed them immediately on two of the three available medical beds, making sure there were no entanglements.


    Helen immediately pulled herself together and got to work. "What happened?" she asked both officers in Tau Cetian.


    "Security Officer Mephicia transported in a few seconds ago with one of your people. Both have been impaled with a sharp object," the first of the two officers replied. "They appear to have lost a lot of blood, and continue to lose more."


    Helen was busy grabbing some instruments and bandages as the man spoke. "Understood," she replied absent-mindedly, tapping her communicator. "Emergency medical to the Medical Bay."


    She knew human anatomy as well as any field medic would know, and could treat most basic forms of trauma including this one, but she had none of her usual medical equipment. That had gone down with the Tau Ceti when she was destroyed in Earth orbit. Instead, she had instruments whose function and usage she was unfamiliar with, which is why she called on the assistance of the ships'' own medical teams.


    Thankfully, they transported in via the same method the security people did, straight on to the transport zone. As soon as they materialized, they set to work, one going immediately to Mephicia, the other stepping up to Helen. "What''s the situation?"


    "Deep puncture wounds," Helen told the medical officer. "Officer Mephicia has a puncture through her chest through to her upper organs, possibly her lungs and heart. John over here has a deep puncture wound through the neck. It''s severed an artery and he''s critical. I need someone who knows how to use the instruments here."


    The medical officer nodded immediately, grabbing more appropriate tools and leading Helen back to John. They set to work, Helen explaining what needed to be done, the medic working quickly and efficiently to seal the wound and stem the blood loss as best he could.


    A few minutes after the transport of both John and Mephicia had taken place, the bay door opened, and Stephen stepped in, quickly followed by Janet. "Keep an eye on him and make sure he gets what he needs," she said to the medic, stepping away. "You can''t be here right now," she told Stephen apologetically.


    By this time, Stephen had noticed John was unconscious and covered in blood. He had turned almost as white as John himself, and struggled to stand. Janet was by his side in an instant, providing him physical support to keep him from collapsing, her face a stony mask, her lips pursed together, but Helen could see she was distressed. "What happened, Helen?" Stephen demanded.


    "Right now I don''t know," she told him tersely. "I need to get him stabilised, and you''re not helping by being here. Now please," she tried to be gentle, which was difficult right now. "Go back to quarters and I''ll come see you once I''ve got them stabilised!"


    "She''s zeroing," Helen heard the other medic attending Mephicia call out, his tone urgent.


    "Shit," Helen cursed under her breath. Stephen looked like he might resist. "I gotta go, they''ll need me." She quickly turned to Janet. "Please, get him to quarters. I need to go!"


    Janet nodded, her face a stone wall, but her voice as she spoke to Stephen was soft, gentle. "Stephen," she said as she pulled him gently, unresisting, his face expressing shock and distress. "We can''t help here, right now. Let''s get out of their way, alright?"


    Helen was grateful, as Janet pulled Stephen out of the medical bay, leaving her and the medics free to work. Bringing all of her focus back to her job, she turned to Mephicia, stepping next to the medic working to save her life. "What do you need?"If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    * * *


    Stephen was in a daze. He was slowly walked away from the medical bay where both John and Mephicia were being worked on, their lives apparently hanging in the balance, and he had never felt so helpless in his entire life. Helen was right, of course. Nothing that he could do would help, and everything they needed to do for John and Mephicia, he was incapable of doing as well as the trained medical staff already in that room, if at all. Still, he just couldn''t help it.


    What the hell had happened?


    Why was John stabbed in the neck?


    Stephen found himself becoming furious. He wanted to exact some punishment, but he had no target, no idea who it was that did this. Sheer frustration caused him to rip his arm out of Janet''s grasp, who reacted with mild surprise. "What the fuck did he ever do to anyone?!"


    "Stephen," Janet immediately stepped back to his side, but he stepped back, almost batting her outstretch hand aside.


    "I''m too wound up right now!" He managed to get out instead of the snarl that welled up inside.


    "I know," Janet told him, her voice unusually quiet and softly-spoken. "Believe me," she said in a whisper as she stepped back up to him, her hand outstretched, her expression full of compassion and sympathy. "I know."


    He desperately tried to master the angry impulses that were flooding his mind, the cortisol and adrenaline that had been dumped into his system. "Seriously, I wanna hit something-"


    "So do I," Janet told him, and he noticed just then, that mixed in with her compassionate gaze, she had an angry tightening around the eyes. She didn''t know John as well as Stephen did, but she had spent a significant amount of time with him as well as the others, and so he was certainly no stranger. "John is an honorable man. He is the last person to deserve this-"


    "Then do you see why I-"


    "Yes," Janet interrupted, voice soft, non-judgmental. "Believe me when I say this. If you find out who did it, and you feel the need to do anything in revenge to them," she paused significantly, giving him a level look as she squeezed his bicep gently. "I''ll have your back," she paused to let that statement sink in. "You hear me?"


    Stephen nodded, feeling an overwhelming need to go somewhere quiet so he could release these pent up emotions. For the first time in months, he felt the need to sit down and...


    "Come on," she gently took his arm again and continued walking, slightly quicker this time, to their shared quarters on the ship. He was grateful, as she stepped inside with him, and called out. "Seal doors from the outside" in English. Thankfully, Miradima had made provision for her when she had assigned quarters earlier, something Stephen was grateful for. He didn''t feel he could speak reliably right now. In fact, his throat was so tight with suppressed anger and distress, he felt his control slipping, and as the doors sealed closed, he released them, instinctively reaching out for Janet''s small frame, pulling her to him and resting his head against her shoulder as his body began to shudder with great heaving sobs. The idea that anyone could do this to John was too much for him to handle, and the anger that this caused him had no healthy outlet. Slowly, Janet wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight, as he did the same to her. He couldn''t speak, couldn''t articulate the maelstrom of pain and anger he felt at his friend being put in such mortal danger, and Janet said nothing in return, continuing to hold him tight.


    After some minutes, he had managed to get the worst of it out of his system, and took a few deep breaths, before slowly releasing Janet and lifting his head to look at her. Her eyes were wet, her face reddened, but her gaze serene as she looked at him with what he could tell was patient understanding. She gently reached up to his face and wiped his eyes, just as he did the same for her. The action elicited a sad smile from her.


    "I''ll always have your back," she told him again, almost whispering, as she pulled his face to hers and kissed his lips gently, almost chaste. "Always."


    * * *


    Helen let out an exhausted breath. The last hour or so had been touch-and-go, both Mephicia and John had suffered mild heart failure as a result of their injuries and loss of blood. Mephicia was lucky that the wound had not punctured her heart itself, although it had gone through one of her lungs. John''s neck wound had punctured his windpipe, and he was lucky his vocal cords had not been damaged. That was damage she did not have the ability to repair, even with the tools available on the ship. As it was, he needed an emergency breathing tube fitted and the work to repair his throat and neck would take a few medical procedures at least. He would have to be kept in a medically-induced coma for a while.


    Both of them had lost a lot of blood, though.


    Mephicia was fortunate. Her blood type was on board the ship, easily synthesized by the ships'' production fabricators. She had asked the technical staff aboard the ship to take a sample of the blood John still had left in him, and asked them to fabricate something similar. Fortunately, they were able to program a substance that was identical to John''s blood in form and function, right down to his DNA. He was undergoing a transfusion at this moment.


    Now that both patients were stable, she was going to turn her attention to the matter of who attacked them. Helen had a sneaking suspicion that it would have to do with the move to protect relatives and associates of some of the escaped prisoners from the incident earlier, which meant they had something to do with the underground network that was causing them so many headaches.


    She ordered Mephicia and John''s clothing to be retained so they could collect DNA samples from them, and stepped out so she could go speak to Miradima about the situation.

 Chapter 20: Scientific Investigation

    20


    Scientific Investigation


    <hr>


    Over the course of the next several days, investigations continued to try and root out the subversive elements of the population. The attack on John and Mephicia had been particularly brutal, and the assailant had yet to be identified, much less caught. Additional security forces had been drafted to help with the process of finding, questioning and DNA testing each member of the populace to determine if they could be placed near the scene, and the walls, flooring and fixtures of the cargo handling building where John and Mephicia were last located on the planet surface had been sampled for traces of DNA.


    The problem was that the facility was in regular, if not constant use. A number of people regularly visited the building or worked within it, thus there would be a lot of different DNA patterns to look over and match with people. Hopefully, combined with a bit of old-fashioned detective work, they would find the culprits.


    Davidson had taken overall charge of the investigation, since it involved multiple people near the top levels of his advisory board. Edward Mensar was a colleague and an adviser on some of the technical aspects of maintaining a colony. His son was one of those taken from the holding facility, and his daughter would potentially be a target, so she was being protected. John was someone he considered a friend now, after more than two years working with him, first in the capacity as a fellow crew member aboard the Tau Ceti, then as a member of the core group that made up the leadership of the colony. Security Officer Mephicia, while Davidson didn''t know her particularly well, was a trusted member of the security guard on the Kl''Deesius and had been sent on detachment to liaise with the humans through John.


    Both of them were in the process of moving Edward and Leila to the Kl''Deesius via the transport facility when they were attacked. Neither Edward nor Leila had seen the assailant, as they had already been transported aboard ship when the attack had taken place.


    Helen had ensured that both sets of clothing from John and Mephicia had been retained for DNA testing, just in case the assailant had been sloppy, and he waited for her analysis to finish. Given they had to work with someone who could work with the technology available, Helen could not carry out the investigative work herself, and so it would have to wait until someone was available to begin the analysis.


    Hopefully that would be later today.


    Davidson had noticed that Stephen was less stable than usual. On a few occasions, he had noted a slightly shorter temper and a tendency toward more brutal forms of punishment when they discussed what to do with the assailants when they were caught. It was at a point where Davidson had point blank told Stephen that he could no longer discuss the case with him, prompting angry rebuttals regarding Davidson''s lack of feelings for the fact that John had come close to being killed. Davidson would not be baited, and stoically repeated his injunction that they will not be discussing the matter any further, which prompted Stephen to stalk out of the temporary office that had been set up for the investigation aboard the ship.


    Davidson understood Stephen''s anger. Felt it on some level himself. However, he had a greater responsibility now, and needed to strive for at least a measure of impartiality. Mira had told him that she would do everything she could to ensure that things were smoothed over with her people given this sequence of events took place on their planet, but made it clear that they would expect the matter to be handled according to their rules.


    That meant no vigilante justice, no capital punishment, and definitely no "enhanced interrogation" or any other euphemism for torture. There would be a trial according to the rules set up by the Earth charter in its'' draft form (it had yet to be solidified and ratified by a leading council) and the defendants, once they were identified, would require representation from someone impartial.


    It all gave Davidson a headache, but it was all necessary, and he could see that, even if Stephen was too close to the situation not to. He decided he needed a break. Tapping his communicator, he spoke.


    "Davidson to Fleet Commander Miradima," he said, then waited for a telltale bleep.


    "Yes, Walter?" Mira spoke punctiliously.


    "Mira, you busy?" Davidson asked with a sigh.


    Her response was instantaneous, her voice immediately expressing concern. "No. You OK?"


    "Yeah, I just need to get away from this work for a few minutes."


    There was the barest of pauses, as Davidson heard Miradima utter a few words to someone who was likely standing where she was, then turned her attention back to him. "We can meet in the dining area if you''d like?"


    The ship was fairly quiet at the moment, with everyone on shift and the galley in between mealtimes, so Davidson could feel relaxed. "Sure, sounds good."


    "Alright, see you in a few minutes." Her tone was warm as she signed off.


    Smiling fondly, Davidson stood and stepped out of the office he was working in.


    <hr>


    Miradima sat in the dining section of her ship as she waited for Walter to appear. It had been a busy week for them both so far, and they both needed a break. It was only when Walter had put the call in to her that she realized the need to step away from the hectic schedule she had been keeping to get everything organized regarding the security arrangements on the planet below, on top of the usual reports and remote conferences she had to maintain as part of her role as Fleet Commander.


    Yes, she did need a break indeed.


    Walter had also sounded like he was under some degree of stress, and she hoped that her presence would comfort him.


    The news that John and Security Officer Mephicia had been gravely injured had shaken her somewhat. John was a steadfast presence in their core group, and a friend to Stephen. Mephicia, while being a capable security officer in her own right, was also a personable character who would often engage in humorous conversations and the occasional practical joke with colleagues. Her continued presence in John''s sphere of influence was remarkable in that she often did not spend too long with any one individual because of the nature of her work, and how busy she kept with her role in security.


    It wasn''t Miradima''s place to speculate, so she gave it no further thought.


    Walter had just walked in, anyway. He immediately commanded her attention with his presence, a man who was fit and strong, as large as any Tau Cetian male she had ever met, and whose commanding presence was an asset. His rigid exterior armored a noble, kind soul who had gotten lost for a while, but was now leading a welcome path to protecting those perceived as weaker than he was. It was a job he took to like a fish to water, and his tactical and military training led well to his future role commanding the armed forces and naval fleet that Earth would eventually be in a position to rebuild.


    She had to admit she was biased. He was, after all, her partner, her personal confidante, her common law spouse, whatever you wanted to call it. She did not stick to any one description for their relationship, only that theirs was more solid than anything she had ever experienced, their personalities in constant synergy, even when they may otherwise disagree, they always managed to find a way to work things out, find balance, compromise, make time for each other, and work together on everything that was important to either, or both of them.


    It helped that she felt a rush of pleasure any time she was with him, although sometimes that was an inconvenience when she had work to do. Regardless, theirs was a good, solid, stable and enjoyable relationship, and she wouldn''t have it any other way.


    He sat down, frowning as she smiled. "What''s got you so cheerful?" he asked.


    "Thinking of you," she admitted, a first for her. She would normally play off her desire for him as something completely different, despite how far their relationship had progressed. Today, she wasn''t interested in anything other than making him feel better, and she would make it happen any way she had to.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    "That''s a first," Walter commented gruffly, though his tone and his expression were belied by the gentle grip he gave her hand in his big paw. "You, admitting you think of me?"


    She reached out and touched his face, brushing some stray hair back around his ear. "You sounded stressed earlier," she said without any further comment.


    Walter nodded, looking off into the distance. "Just a little frustrated. A lot to do, still no leads, and still no news on our two patients in Med Bay."


    "Helen?" Miradima asked.


    Walter frowned for a second. "She''s OK, I think. Been busy keeping an eye on both of them, but she''s itching to start a DNA analysis on them to try and track down their attacker." And with that, he squeezed Miradima''s hand a little harder, clearly expressing in her mind, that he was still angry about the incident.


    As well he might, she thought to herself. She was angered by it as well. "We''ll find them," she assured him. "I''m going to go see her shortly, and I''ll make time to go through the analysis with her."


    Walter narrowed his eyes a fraction. "You?"


    "Yes," Miradima told him. "I have experience in research and sensor analysis from my time as a Tactical Sub Commander aboard the Kl''Orix. I have not forgotten any of it."


    Walter raised his eyebrows for a second, then gave a shrug. "Fair," he admitted. "You free later?"


    Miradima smiled coyly at him, brushing her hair out of her face and over the back of her ear as she replied to him. "Why, are you thinking what I''m thinking?"


    "What," Walter''s tone was laced with humor. "That we should spend the evening together?"


    Miradima pretended surprise. "Oh," she said in a faux-dejected tone. "I thought you wanted me to look at a tactical analysis of the new ship we''re building near Earth."


    Walter was very quick. "No, that''s tomorrow," he quipped. "Tonight, I want a tactical analysis of you, in my arms."


    Miradima couldn''t help but snort in laughter. "That was particularly frightful," she giggled, surprising herself. "But yes, I would love to spend the night with you. Meet at my quarters, I have something special in mind!"


    Miradima was not going to tell him exactly what she had planned. He was going to be pleasantly surprised, however.


    <hr>


    Helen sat back after going over the reports that she had just received on the articles of clothing retrieved from John and Mephicia. There were at least six DNA samples extracted from them, and she needed to set aside time to look at them and sort out whose was whose.


    It was difficult, given that all of them were so similar in the first place, and none stood out. She assumed that Mephicia wasn''t included in the report, since the other people in the report must have been human, their DNA signatures a match to the human genome. This was going to be tedious, she thought to herself. Sighing tiredly, she found herself missing the reassuring presence of Marlon.


    She was still not over his death. She never really would be, and she was coming to terms with that fact. Today was a better day than many. She was only slightly melancholy, suppressing the sadness and the ache so she could focus on her work, occasionally stopping to take a break when the need to do so called upon her. There were still some days when she had to stop whatever she was doing and go some place quiet. It didn''t help that her hormones were all over the place with this pregnancy, which both frustrated her and gave her a sense of bittersweet longing.


    Sometimes, she would talk with Janet about it, though she was hardly someone with the most reassuring manner. Still, after Janet had revealed her past with Simon all those months back at the lunar complex, Helen had made every effort to stop wallowing in self pity, and took her comments about understanding her pain more seriously. While Janet was hardly someone to spend a girls'' night in with, Helen did at least respect the younger woman and appreciated her efforts at being a friend.


    John was far easier to get along with, giving and easy-going. Problem is that John had never had the kind of loss she was still suffering from, and even he admitted once to her that he would most likely be a bad candidate for a shoulder to cry on. Helen doubted that was true, but she nonetheless felt uncomfortable discussing Marlon with him, given the two men had been friends in their old life, John was still feeling that loss, and he was often seen in the company of Mephicia. Even putting all of that to one side, John was currently in no position to talk to anyone about anything.


    Focus, she told herself sternly.


    Taking a deep breath, she went back to analyzing her data. The panel displaying genetic markers took up the entire screen, with a side panel for information revealing who, if known, possessed that particular DNA sample.


    This one was John''s. She recognized the markers identifying numerous Endogenous Retroviral sites, ERV''s for short. Those sites were where viral infections had compromised the DNA of human beings in the past, but where the subjects in question had survived and passed on their genes to subsequent generations. Every human had these ERVs, with some possessing different ones in addition to these depending on where they lived, who they descended from, and other factors, but the baseline location for these was always the same. It was one of a multitude of identifying factors that allowed Helen to determine what species a particular DNA sample hailed from, even though she was a medical doctor and not a geneticist.


    She switched samples on the screen to look at the next one. This was one of the unidentified matches.


    Human. ERVs in exactly the same location. She tagged it for further analysis, pending the results of DNA sample collection from the populace at some future time. Hopefully they would find a match in the known population.


    Switching samples again, she found another one, also human. Same with the next, and the next.


    Then she switched samples again. Mephicia.


    Also human.


    Wait...


    Helen checked the sample again. This time, she studied the genetic code more closely. She was becoming more disconcerted by what she was seeing. The samples were obviously not identical to each other. After all, people were not clones of each other, but there was always going to be a vast area of overlap in the genetic code that each person possessed. Helen remembered from her university-level evolutionary biology classes, that humans and other great apes from Earth shared approximately 98% of their DNA, that the key difference between humans and chimpanzees for example was the fusion site of Chromosome 42, and the ERVs she had used as a base for determining which of the samples was human and which was not.


    Quickly, she ran back to the medical bay and fetched a sample of some healing gel that was being cultivated in the ships'' storage there. Taking it back to her lab, she placed a sample of it in the analysis unit and took a reading. She had seen this stuff before, applied to wounds when she was helping with Mephicia''s treatment. The medics on the scene had told her that they developed it from a natural plant that grew on Tau Ceti 3, imported to Tau Ceti 5 and harvested for its'' anaesthetic and anti-inflammatory properties.


    What interested Helen was the construction of its DNA.


    Parsing it through the analyzer, she immediately received a result, including a Tau Cetian language identification code that matched that of the exact grass species it had been catalogued from. Most shocking of all was its'' construction. More certain than ever, and coming dangerously close to distress that this could all be subterfuge on the part of the Tau Cetians, she immediately tapped her communicator.


    "Fleet Commander Miradima," she spoke tersely, making an effort to control her breathing.


    "Yes Helen?" Miradima''s voice came back, relaxed.


    "Can you come down to the medical lab near the med bay for a second?"


    There was a pause. "I''ll be there in a moment."


    "Thanks," Helen said just as the communication ended.


    A few minutes later, and as she was about to start calling for the help of others around her in case things went badly, Helen sat up, startled as the doors to the lab opened, and Miradima walked in. Davidson was with her.


    Oddly, the gruff military officer and former soldier''s presence was comforting and made Helen feel safe. "Helen," he nodded in greeting.


    "Davidson," she nodded back to him, turning to Miradima. "Miradima," she added a greeting to the Fleet Commander.


    "Everything alright?" Miradima asked, her voice filled with concern.


    Helen decided to jump straight in, trying to keep her voice level, as she started to explain. First, she showed them the slides of the unidentified samples on the clothing taken from John and Mephicia. Then she showed John''s DNA sample.


    "So far, it looks like they''re all human," Davidson commented. "Which is what we predicted."


    Helen then tapped the next sample. Mephicia''s. "This is Mephicia''s sample. Notice the similarities between all of the others?" She tapped a control, placing all of them in vertical formation so their genome could be compared side-by-side. "The only differences between the samples I took from the clothing and Mephicia''s own DNA is the lack of an ERV site for a retrovirus that swept through the population of Earth sometime in the last 10,000 years. Look here," and she pointed to another site on Mephicia''s profile. "This ERV site isn''t present on any of the other samples."


    Davidson frowned. Miradima''s face was slack. "Did our two people encounter the same viruses in the past?" she asked.


    "It''s not possible," Helen told her. "Look at this."


    She pushed a control on the display. "This is a sample of the healing agent I used to treat Mephicia over the last few days," she said, pointing out the new genome profile that now stood next to the others. It was clearly different. "This is a triple helix construction. The strands all line up to fit each other in a trio-formation that I''ve never seen anywhere on Earth."


    Helen watched closely, as Miradima''s face went through a variety of emotions, from puzzlement, to confusion, to realization, and then all the blood drained from her face as she went into outright shock. "I had no idea..." she trailed off, grabbing a seat and lowering herself into it.


    "Wait," Davidson frowned, looking to Miradima, obvious concern on his face, then turned back to Helen. "What the hell does that mean?!"


    "It means," Helen said, feeling a sense of betrayal she could not articulate into words. "That the Tau Cetian people are humans, just like we are!"

 Chapter 21: Revelation

    21


    Revelation


    <hr>


    "What do you mean, they''re human?!" Davidson called out, alarmed.


    Miradima sat in stunned silence, her face still pale. Helen could clearly tell that whatever was going on, this was the first she was learning about it.


    "I mean that either the people of this system came here from Earth, or at some point in the past, we left here and colonized Earth ourselves," Helen told him sharply, frowning at his apparent inability to comprehend what she had just told him. "Either way, they are practically the same species as we are."


    Davidson looked toward Miradima, then turned back to Helen, then back at Miradima, before stepping over to Miradima''s side and crouching down to her level. "You didn''t know," he said, his statement not a question.


    Miradima''s face looked bleak. "I-I..."


    Helen stepped toward another of the chairs in the lab, lowering herself into it. Her feet hurt from standing, and she wanted to draw Miradima out on what she likely did know. "I didn''t quite expect this reaction," she admitted.


    Miradima''s head snapped to Helen, her eyes watery, but she said nothing.


    "How deep does this go?" Davidson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Who else knows about this?"


    Miradima angrily wiped her eyes. "I will find out," she said roughly, tapping her communicator. "Fleet intelligence, Priority One."


    After a moment, a message came through. "Fleet Intelligence," the gruff voice at the end replied.


    "I need to speak to the Director of Fleet Intelligence at once," she barked.


    "The Director of Fleet Intelligence is in a high-level meeting and-"


    "Tell him the Fleet Commander is calling and has discovered some disturbing news he is going to want to address immediately!" She practically shouted back.


    A pause. "Yes Commander." The connection went dead.


    Davidson dragged one of the lab chairs next to Miradima and sat in it, taking her hand and giving it a firm squeeze. She squeezed back. Helen sighed.


    After a few minutes, there was a communication request. "Fleet Intelligence Priority One Channel. Do you wish to accept?" The voice of the ships'' systems announced.


    "Yes," Miradima said in a monotone.


    There was a dual tone, then another voice came over the audio systems, only this one was deep, gruff, and sounded rather annoyed at whatever it was that had been interrupted beforehand. "Fleet Intelligence."


    "Fleet Command," Miradima replied, equally gruff in her response. "This is a high level discussion. We probably shouldn''t be discussing it over a communication channel," she told whoever was on the other end of the communicator.


    "What''s this about, Miradima?"


    Helen was surprised. Whoever the Director was, he knew Miradima''s voice.


    She wasn''t. "It''s about who we are and where we came from, and I have discovered some unsettling news."


    The pause this time was even more significant. "Send me coordinates. We''ll discuss this face-to-face." The communication went dead.


    Miradima stood from her seat and approached a console on the wall, quickly tapping in some data and sending it. Within seconds, a single flash of a transport took place, and a tall, imposing figure stood before them. He was dressed in an unadorned upper torso wrap common to civilians on the Tau Cetian home-world, paired with dark slacks and civilian footwear that appeared rather sober in terms of color. Helen had seen this man''s face before, albeit only once.


    "Darlamar," Miradima exclaimed, her face turning from pale to red in an instant. "Youknow something, don''t you?"


    "I was under the impression you had retired on health grounds recently," Davidson accused.


    "Both of you, stop!" Darlamar''s voice held a stern reprimand, which was effective though he didn''t even give a hint that he had raised his voice. "I will answer your questions, but you need to get your thoughts in order before this situation spirals out of control."


    How exactly is that going to happen, Helen thought to herself angrily. Humanity had been kept in the dark about this, had effectively been lied to, had assumed that the Klankharis Realm were composed of alien beings from another world, and now, they find out that the people of the Klankharis Realm were human beings all along. Someone had to have made this connection before, yet nothing had ever been hinted at this before.


    Just how deep did this conspiracy go?


    "How long have you known?" Miradima asked in a barely restrained whisper. Helen could hear her own fury mirrored in that statement.


    "Years," Darlamar said in a sharp tone. "It is strictly controlled information among our people for reasons I will only explain when there is no longer an atmosphere of incandescent fury in this room."


    Helen rose to her feet, outraged. "How the fuck are we meant to feel about this?!" She shouted.


    Darlamar frowned, having not understood what she had said as she had, in her anger, spoken out in English.


    Both Miradima and Davidson were on their feet, approaching Helen with arms outstretched in placating fashion. "Helen," Davidson said to her gently. "We need answers, and we won''t get them like that."


    She turned sharply toward him, and was about to angrily retort, when Miradima spoke up.


    "I''m just as enraged as you are," she said in a whisper that embodied all manner of pent up anger. "There will be a reckoning over this, but we won''t get answers unless we restrain ourselves," she said with finality.


    Helen relented, sitting back down, but her fury was right there, at the surface of her thoughts.


    Miradima turned to Darlamar, switching to Tau Cetian. "What you ask is unreasonable," she said in a controlled tone. "We can control the manner we address you, but we cannot control our emotional state so quickly over something like this."


    "You are the Fleet Commander," Darlamar told her in curt reprimand. "You should have better control over your emotional state."


    "How dare you," Miradima replied quietly, while embodying all of the pent up outrage that Helen felt over that callous dismissal of their feelings regarding this Earth-shattering revelation. "We have just uncovered news that will shake the very foundations of our society and has implications across both the people of Earth and our own system, and you dare to lecture me on emotional control?"


    "I do," Darlamar replied simply. "It is because this is so critical to both our people that this news must be looked at with a rational and objective viewpoint. Now I will leave you in this room to collect yourselves, and head to your quarters to discuss this. Take this time to get yourselves under control before we discuss this any further."


    And with that, Darlamar strode out of the lab without further comment, not looking back or even pausing in his stride for the doors to fully open.


    Miradima turned to Davidson, the muscles in her jawline tensing and releasing in anger, her face reddening even more. Without another word, Davidson drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her, and she let out an angry sob, loosing pent-up fury in a series of hisses and shakes as she did.


    Helen felt her own eyes burn, fully understanding the anger, and decided she had best sit back down.


    <hr>


    Shortly afterward, the three of them approached the Ship Commander''s quarters, where Miradima had set up residence while aboard ship. As expected, Darlamar was waiting for them, a stony expression on his face. Deliberately avoiding antagonizing the man any further, and determined to get answers for this deceit, Miradima, Helen and Davidson agreed to say nothing until they were all present and seated.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    As Miradima, the last to sit, took her position behind her own desk, Darlamar looked to each of the people present in turn, and immediately admonished them. "What you are about to hear is dangerous information to know. If others were to find out about it before they were prepared, it would have disastrous consequences to every human being alive, and would not only put both our peoples at risk, but also decimate the Realm, and by extension, the fledgling alliance that we have all spent a long time planning. You must discuss this with no-one outside this room, and you must ensure that all data you collected regarding your discoveries is placed under the highest Fleet Intelligence classification seal. I will not continue this discussion unless these explicit and non-negotiable instructions are clearly understood. Do you all agree to these terms?"


    Helen, along with the other two, nodded her assent. She had little choice.


    "Very well," Darlamar said gravely, standing to pace. "Do all of you know the basics of Klankharis history, and how far it goes back?"


    Helen felt she had a loose idea, but wasn''t sure.


    Davidson spoke up. "Your recorded history goes back approximately five thousand years. It ends rather abruptly at that point."


    Darlamar nodded. "Yes," he acknowledged. "That was the first possessor interstellar invasion. Most of our early history concerning the event is limited to Fleet Intelligence, although some references to the reformation of our way of life make reference to the Possessors. Here''s what happened during that time, and why our history abruptly terminates there."


    Darlamar went on to explain in substantial detail, how at the beginning of their current recorded history, there was a colossal force of possessor ships. At that point in history, the enemy were using bio-synthetic ships that used propulsive designs relying on Einsteinian mechanics, sub-luminal vessels traveling at relativistic velocities. It often took an invading force hundreds of years to travel just ten light years, not factoring in their need to decelerate and accelerate at their destination and departure systems. They had detected radio-frequency signals that had been transmitted from Tau Ceti 3 almost seven hundred years prior as the Tau Cetian people were re-introducing their communications infrastructure on the surface, switching out complex, expensive and sometimes unreliable wiring systems (in regions of tectonic instability they would have to repair these frequently) for rugged radio-transmission stations. There was only a brief window of opportunity for these signals to be detected plainly, as within a few decades, much like Earth, the Tau Cetians developed digital wireless technology that masked the nature of their transmissions so they could only be read and intercepted by those who knew the technology.


    However, that window was nonetheless detected by the Possessors, and they sent a large invasion force. They did so, because the Tau Cetian people were a known quantity and an enemy they had fought before, so they suspected an expeditionary force would fail, not return, and would instead alert the Tau Cetians that an invasion was imminent.


    While it took over 700 years for the invasion force to arrive, the Tau Cetian people had not developed much past their own habitable world for fear of alerting their enemy, based upon events that had happened five thousand years or so before this time.


    "Wait, what events?" Davidson asked.


    "I''ll come to that shortly, I assure you," Darlamar admonished, before continuing.


    He then went on to explain that the invasion force overwhelmed the Tau Cetians who had neither significant weaponry nor faster-than-light travel, limiting their options for escape or combat. The invasion force overwhelmed the Tau Cetian people and enslaved the population, turning their world into a staging ground for future incursions into nearby systems.


    Immediately an underground resistance had formed, and was quashed, but the pattern had been established. Over the course of the next half a century, resistance cells would spring up, operating independently, with only one goal. Their mission was to escape Possessor influence or drive them out of Tau Ceti, and in the absence of either option, to escape the Tau Ceti system and find another world to quietly exist in so they could build a retaliatory force to strike back at some point in the future.


    Darlamar largely skipped over the struggles their people faced while in this dark time, but he did state that the occupation ended with the Possessors deciding to raze the entire planet and kill off all of the humans left alive. Eighty-seven ships had escaped Tau Ceti at the end of the occupation, yet only twenty-three survived to return to Tau Ceti, doing so as a last-stand desperate move, only to find the Tau Ceti system unoccupied once more. Whatever the Possessors needed Tau Ceti for, they no longer had any desire to stay once the human population no longer existed there.


    That invasion had cost the lives of more than a billion people, the largest population that had existed in Tau Ceti at that time.


    Darlamar then explained that two thousand years ago, after slowly and carefully building their military power and their technology back up through careful research and constant attempts to camouflage their existence, the Tau Cetians were again invaded. This time, an expeditionary force had been sent after one of the Tau Cetian scout vessels had been spotted on the edge of the system.


    On this occasion, The Klankharis Realm, as it was now known, had forcibly and effortlessly repelled the expeditionary force, pressing their advantage and sending ships out to locate the enemy. Now possessing FTL technology, the Klankharis Realm were able to move quickly from one system to another to scour them for the presence of their enemy, and in doing so, they happened to rediscover Earth.


    Three hundred years ago, the Realm decided to send a small exploratory group of people to learn about the various groups on the planet. This was their first exposure to multi-government society on a single planet, having lived almost their entire history as one people with one governing structure for everyone. This was the beginning of the Modern era, with rail and steam power well-established but electricity only now appearing in various applications throughout the modern world. It was a time when great ocean liners were just beginning to use steam as a replacement for sail, and big ocean liners like the Olympic class were many decades off. It was also the time they discovered the ruins of the Great Pyramids of Giza, and numerous sites across the planet where similar pyramidal structures had been built, seemingly as a means of revering what they thought of as Gods. Some of the hieroglyphs used in the sites around various pyramids in Egypt resembled early Tau Cetian writings, leading to the conclusion that Earth and Tau Ceti had a shared history. Future groups going back with sensitive instrumentation and a clear mandate to examine below the surface of Earth around Egypt would later discover the truth, that the Tau Cetian people of the Klankharis Realm once lived on Earth, the reason for their departure unknown.


    Over the years, countries would be watched and monitored, and the results caused a schism in Tau Cetian society, with many citing the connection between Earth and Tau Ceti as a reason to re-establish contact, while others were decrying Earth as a backward, barbaric planet devoid of worth and best ignored completely, or worse, bombarded out of existence.


    "Those elements lost in the civil war that followed," Darlamar commented. "An incident that is not in the history books except as a misunderstanding regarding a nearby world. The details themselves are classified."


    Darlamar then gave a very brief discussion of the fragments of the history they were able to piece together of their time before current records, how the discovery of a wreckage near a peninsula of the southernmost continent on Tau Ceti 3 had revealed their origins, based on far older yet slightly-more-advanced technology, and how they had discovered that this was one of an uncounted number of refugee ships to travel eleven light years from the Sol system, from Earth, and based on Klankharis scouting missions back to the Sol system, the discovery that they had previously settled on the surface of Mars.


    Much of it was speculative, and very little of it was based off of more than a few corroded artifacts from the surface of both planets as well as off of similar designs found on Tau Ceti 3 during their resurgence, but enough existed to convince the Klankharis Realm leadership that this connection was worth investigating.


    Darlamar finished by recounting a brief statement about the arrival of the Tau Ceti in their system, how the vessel was made possible thanks to an anonymous benefactor who had set up on Earth as a philanthropist that had come into large sums of money thanks to a tech boom he had been responsible for. No-one on Earth had ever been told who this person was, but Darlamar knew the man intimately, because the man was his distant uncle, and had left for Earth seventy years earlier, when Darlamar was a young child.


    Helen was not surprised to learn that Tau Cetian humans lived a lot longer than Earth humans, and though Darlamar looked like a fifty-year-old man from Earth, albeit a very healthy and athletic one, she was not surprised to learn of his true age.


    "The Klankharis Realm has had a hand in the development of your space program since the early twenty-first century of the western calendar," he told them. "We wished to reconnect with your people despite the increasing division among our own, and thus we sent someone to lay the ground-work, seed designs using technology readily-available on Earth, and provide as much funding as was needed. By unifying our people, we stand a greater chance of preventing the enemy from returning and overwhelming us."


    "How so?" Davidson asked. "Your technology is centuries ahead of our own. We stood no chance when the Possessor enemy came down to Earth and decimated our population."


    Darlamar sighed, sitting down at long last. "Davidson, it is not merely about technological prowess or how many ships we can field. Those are factors, certainly, but we are not doing this because we need the help of the humans as some sort of wildcard. We are doing this because our heritage is shared, and because we are not the kind of monsters that would let our fellow human beings be invaded, suffer and die at the hands of an implacable enemy just because your people were not tactically significant to us."


    Davidson nodded. Helen was relieved.


    "In any event, now you know our history. One day, both our people will be ready to hear the facts and exalt in our shared history as a people, but for now, we need to tread carefully. Your people are still recovering from their recent invasion, and our own are not ready to accept Earth humans as being related to them. This is why we have not disclosed it widely."


    Helen didn''t like it.


    Davidson clearly hated it.


    Miradima stared off into the distance through the transparent portal in her ship''s office, out toward the planet they were orbiting. Finally, she sighed heavily. "I hate keeping these kinds of secrets from our allies, from our friends, from the people we have come to respect," she said in resignation. "I especially don''t like being a party to the deception that we are an alien species to our own people, especially when Walter here did not know of it, and could very well have had good reason to assume I was being dishonest."


    "Mira, what?"


    "-That alone is unforgivable."


    Davidson frowned at Miradima. He held his tongue, however.


    "But I recognize it''s necessity," she finally admitted. "I just hope our descendants can forgive us when they eventually find out the truth," she added dejectedly.


    Helen could understand her concern on that front. She nonetheless hoped for a positive outcome when it eventually came to light.

 Chapter 22: Convalescence

    22


    Convalescence


    <hr>


    Medical Bay, Kl''Deesius.


    Three days later


    John found himself slowly coming out of a deep and dreamless sleep. Fog clouded his thoughts for several moments as he adjusted to the environment he was in, and voices slowly coalesced into recognizable people discussing medicine. He attempted to open his eyes, squeezing them shut again when the brightness of the room was too much to adjust to at that moment, and let out an involuntary groan.


    "He''s awake," Helen''s voice. "John, can you hear me?"


    Taking a breath, John tried to open his eyes again, more slowly, giving himself a moment to adjust to the light in the room. "I need a sec," he said, though his words slurred.


    "Take your time," Helen replied, her words gentle, her tone strong and steady, like an anchor keeping a ship still at sea. Her voice dipped slightly as she spoke again. "Check his saline, he''s going to feel dehydrated."


    John opened his eyes finally, getting a look. Helen was there, standing above him, in her medical scrubs. She had just raised a penlight, shining it into each of his eyes, causing him to wince slightly. He made no other complaint, though. She needed to do what she needed to do, he realized.


    "Do you remember what happened to you?" Helen asked.


    John frowned, not wishing to remember. It was as clear as day, and he could feel his heart beginning to race, but he mastered the anxiety rising within him, before answering. "We were attacked," he said, dry-swallowing.


    "Hold that thought," Helen told him briskly, stepping out of his field of view for a moment as she approached a wall panel, tapped a control, and then extracted a clear glass with water in it. She quickly stepped back to his side. "Here, drink some of this," she told him, as she operated a control next to his bed, causing it to incline enough for him to sit up.


    Gratefully, he took the offered water, sipped it, allowed the cool liquid to refresh parched tissues and cool his incredibly sore throat. His neck felt like it was ablaze on the right side, and he instinctively reached for it. Helen intercepted his hand quickly. "Doc, what''s goin'' on?"


    "You were stabbed in the neck by your attacker when you were down on the surface," Helen told him, her face reddening in anger. "We''ve managed to seal the damage to your throat lining and make sure your airways are kept separate from your oesophagus, but the damage is going to take a while to heal, even with this medical technology on board. At some point we may need to do a skin graft to repair the damage to your neck, but we''re waiting to see how much your body can do on its'' own first."


    John sighed, feeling dejected. Injuries suck at the best of times, and he had gotten depressed just from breaking a leg once, but being a convalescent in a bed aboard a frigate was going to be worse in some ways, he realized. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks to the face. "Phee!" He called out, rising to an upright position before falling back with a bout of dizziness.


    "You''re in no shape to go running off, John," Helen admonished. "You''ve been in a coma for almost two weeks while we fixed the damage and kept an eye on you. It''ll take time before you can go moving around."


    "What about Mephicia?" John pleaded, desperation in his voice.


    Helen put a firm hand on his chest, preventing him from sitting up again. "She''s still with us," she told him. "The injuries to her chest were relatively minor. That weapon used on you was fortunate to have missed her heart and only puncture a lung and some limited muscle tissue. Mostly she lost a lot of blood, but we''ve had her hooked up with a fresh supply and she''s in much better shape than you are."


    John relaxed, releasing a tension he hadn''t realized he had built up. Mephicia was more to him than a colleague, and had been a steadfast friend since they met at the lunar complex months ago. All he could think about was getting back at the motherfucker who tried to kill her, his fist clenching tight. "Son of a bitch could''ve killed her," he said in a low growl.


    "John," Helen said in a harsh whisper. "That son of a bitch could have killed you!"


    John slowly released the fist that he had made, willing himself to let the tension go. It was the most difficult exercise in willpower he had ever had to engage in throughout his life. "Is she awake yet?"


    "We brought her out of the coma a few days ago once we were sure the repairs we made to her lung tissue had taken hold. She''s sleeping right now, so try not to make too much noise," Helen told him softly. "I''ve a few things to take care of with Davidson and the others, and Stephen, I''m sure will want to come say hi. Rest as much as possible, you hear?"


    And with that, she stepped out of the room.


    John took a deep breath, ignoring the soreness in the right side of his neck. He had been given the controls to his bed, so he had it move into a recliner-configuration so that it appeared as though he was sat back on a La-Z-Boi, and he got his first good look around him.


    The light was dimmer than he initially thought. The medical bay was cast in a yellow-ish hue from some side-lights directed up toward the ceiling plates, and everything was bathed in a warm glow. Only one of the remaining beds was occupied, and the display above it read out a series of vital signs in the Klankharii language. He understood their readings just fine, of course, and was thankful he had made the effort two years back to learn this language.


    Then he looked down to the bed itself, and the occupant.


    Phee.


    That was his nickname for her.


    She objected, of course, though only in public. In private, she enjoyed hearing it, and the tone of voice he often used when speaking to her.


    He didn''t really know exactly when it all happened, but shortly after arriving on the garden world below, John and Phee had embarked on a series of casual dates. Nothing special, at least not to his mind. Often it would be a coffee or breakfast in the central dining area, or a walk around the perimeter to gaze out at the fields of foodstuffs that were growing on the planet, or the colonies of trees that dotted the landscape to generate oxygen and provide a natural boundary to some of the fauna that had been introduced. Eventually, these progressed to late-evening walks through the settlement, or long discussions out on the roof of one of the prefabs, and on a few occasions, they would spend hours indoors, reading in companionable silence, enjoying each others'' company.


    Four times now, both of them engaged in an intimate tryst, starting about six weeks before. Neither of them really talked about what it meant. John, because he didn''t want to upset the balance of whatever was happening between them, and he didn''t want to guess what Phee''s reason would be. All that mattered to him was that she was enjoyable company, and he wanted to keep spending time with her, no matter what it was they did.


    The last time was a few days before they transferred Edward and his daughter Leila to the Kl''Deesius for their own protection, and the day had been a fairly normal one for what was going on. Phee had just met him for another coffee date when both of them were seized by the need to release their passions, and they quickly took off to John''s private room in the settlement, where they enjoyed an hour''s pleasure. While they were hardly at the stage where they would publicly display affection to one another, neither of them were uncomfortable with the idea of some moments of tenderness in private even while getting ready to head off to their respective tasks, and that day had been pleasant, relaxing and enjoyable for both.


    John was not ready to get too deep into his feelings at that time. Sure, he was attracted to her, who wouldn''t be? She was strong, smart, exceptionally pretty with her sculpted athleticism, and was as steady as a rock in her temperament. Everything John would ever want in a partner, she possessed in spades, but given their unique circumstances, he did not want to move too quickly with his affections until he could be sure theirs would last longer than a few months.


    Everything changed as soon as he saw the blade plunged through her chest that day in the transport building. He quite literally lost his mind, and that had only ever happened once in his life before that. Grief had motivated his reaction that last time, and it had taken Stephen to snap him out of it. Fear and rage was the cause this time, and he doubted he would have stopped unless he either knew Phee would be safe, or until he had passed out.


    Obviously, he had passed out, and had no idea how they had returned to the ship for treatment.


    Looking at her now, she was somewhat paler than normal, her hair tucked behind her head as she clearly rested. John wanted to go to her, but he was weakened, and she was probably still asleep in any event.


    His mind wandered without him realising it, and he lost coherent thought.


    Darkness.


    He gasped slightly, wondering how he had drifted off as he did, as well as how much time had passed. He frowned a little as he looked back to the bed where Phee was resting, only to see it empty. He felt his pulse quicken, wondering what had happened to her, and looked to his opposing side, only to be startled by the fact that she was standing next to him, her expression unreadable, her face a pale mask. Surprisingly, she was no longer in medical garments, but was in a loosely-fastened uniform.


    Just how long had passed when he lost consciousness a moment ago?


    He frowned. "You were asleep?" He asked.


    She shook her head, and spoke in her native language. "We need to talk," she said quietly.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    John''s frown deepened. "What about?"


    Phee looked unhappy. "What we''ve been doing," she said simply, pausing for a second, her tone flat. "It can''t continue."


    John let out a sigh, surprised that it affected him as deeply as it did, in spite of the fact that they only knew each other a few months, and had never really been all too serious about things. He suspected she might have been more disturbed by what had happened on the surface than anyone could guess, so he wasn''t about to argue for her to change her mind. Whatever her reasons were, he would let her be. He nodded, blinking his eyes in irritation. "I guess not," he sighed, dry-swallowing. "I''m sure you''ve got some things to deal with that don''t need any added complication-"


    "You misunderstand," she interrupted him, her own voice quavering ever-so-slightly. "I saw, John."


    This confused him, and his frown deepened. "I don''t understand, saw what?" he told her.


    This time, it was her turn to swallow, and the mask slipped slightly before she reasserted control over herself. "When our assailant plunged that blade of his through my chest, I was still conscious. I saw much, and I heard everything."


    John still didn''t get it. "Phee, I''m really sorry, I still don''t get what you mean."


    Impulsively, she gripped his wrist, squeezing it reflexively. "You lost control, John," she said in a voice that seemed pained. She quickly recovered, though. "That''s the issue, and when you were brought out of the coma today, you panicked over my well-being... You''ve become too attached, and if anything were to happen to me, You would... I can''t let you face that kind of..."


    Finally, John understood. She wanted to save him the anguish of finding out she had been injured or killed by putting distance between them. The only problem was while it seemed like a good idea from a superficial level, people''s feelings didn''t work that way. She could tell him that she never wanted to see him again, and he would still be in anguish if she were hurt, no matter when it happened. How to explain it to her?


    Then it hit him. She would feel the same if he were hurt badly in her presence.


    He didn''t know how he knew, but he did.


    "How would you feel if I got hurt?" John asked her.


    "Please don''t-"


    "No, this is vital," John interrupted her, his tone imbued with as much steel as his weakened condition would allow. "Let''s just say that we go our separate ways, and that some months down the line, I were to be killed in a suicide bombing on the surface," he paused to let that sink in, watching as her face reddened slightly despite her anemic appearance. "Would it be as if I were no more important to you than Edward Mensar? Would you feel a general sense of sadness? Would it just be like ''he was a nice guy, what a pity he''s dead''? Or would it cut into your heart like a knife?"


    Phee was shaking her head slowly, as though in denial. "That''s not fair," she hissed, removing her hand from John''s wrist.


    "No," John agreed. "It isn''t. None of this is, and I think you and I both know the answer to that question. If anything were to happen to any of my friends, even though we can often go months at a time without hearing from each other, it still affects me. Just knowing Stephen was beat up by one of the survivors was like a kick in the head for me. Davidson, he could be killed tomorrow... You think I''d be happy about it? He and I find it difficult to get along, and I wouldn''t necessarily call him a close friend either, but I respect him, and even though I have only seen him on occasion since we came to the planet below us, if he were to get injured or killed, I''d still be hurting for him." He took another breath. "If you think that breaking off what has been a fun, enjoyable, and meaningful connection just because of your... I''m sorry to say, silly idea, that it would cause me less pain should anything happen to you in the future, then I''m sorry, but you don''t understand human emotions as well as you think you do."


    His heart was pounding now, and while he still felt weak, he was now wide awake, his mind clear. "Phee, if you need to step away for your own well-being, I get it. I can understand needing time and space to deal with your own issues," he told her gently. "But calling things off because you think it will make things easier for me," he stopped to look at her face, which was now turned slightly away, glancing anywhere but at him. "That''s not going to work. If anything happens to you, I''m still going to be broken up by it, and you walking away from what we''ve been doing won''t change that."


    At those words, she looked back at him, her face red, her mask slipping to reveal the fear that she was clearly feeling.


    "I''m not going to make you stay where you don''t want to be," John told her. "But I consider you a close friend and someone who I''m willing to risk my life for no matter what happens in the future. Sorry," he said, shrugging a shoulder, wincing as it caused his neck to flare up in pain. "You''re just going to have to accept that about me."


    The silence between them was drawn out, but Phee''s hand seemed to find its way back to his arm. She still looked a little fearful, and she dry-swallowed again. Blinking furiously a few times, she took a deep breath to steady herself, and her mask settled back over her face again. John was resigned to the possibility that she was going to walk out of his life in spite of his words, and he was prepared to accept that and wish her all the best.


    Then she spoke.


    "You''ve given me something to think about," she told him in a calm, quiet tone. "I need time, John."


    After a moment to be sure she didn''t want to add anything else, he replied. "Take all you need," he told her. "You''ll always be able to find me if you want to talk about anything."


    He held her gaze, as she did his, for several moments.


    Then, with a final squeeze of his bicep, she turned away and walked out of the medical bay with poise and rigid self-control.


    John marvelled at her ability to hold herself together like that, even though it left him feeling a little sick to his stomach to have no clue how she was really feeling in that moment. He let out a sigh, and willed himself back to sleep.


    <hr>


    Stephen walked into the Medical Bay with Janet a short time later, to see how John was doing. As usual, the place was spotless, the damage that Janet had caused to the bulkhead near the door had long since been repaired, and there was now only one patient in the room.


    John looked worse for wear. He was significantly less pale than he was when he had been brought aboard the ship at the time of the attack, though he still looked as if he could use some more rest. The wound on the side of his neck looked red raw, the surrounding skin inflamed and angry-looking. Helen had earlier said there was a possibility a skin graft might be needed, but the puncture site had been stitched up, and it looked to Stephen as though new skin was already starting to grow over the site of the wound. John was staring up at the ceiling, and Stephen felt his heart pound in his chest as he thought that maybe something might be wrong.


    "John?" He asked, uncertain.


    John, slightly startled by Stephen''s voice as he and Janet approached the bed, glanced at him, briefly glanced back up at the ceiling, and then returned his stare back to Stephen, dry-swallowing. "Stevie?"


    Stephen stepped up next to John''s bed, Janet grabbing two chairs automatically to slide them into place next to them. Then she stepped next to Stephen and waited patiently. "Glad you''re still with us," he told John in a gruff tone that masked his overwhelming feelings of relief.


    The dam burst at that point, as both Stephen and John dissolved into hissing sobs, gripping each other''s arms tight, as Stephen expressed his relief that John was going to be well again, and John in turn expressed his own feelings that Stephen wanted to ask about, but couldn''t at that time.


    Janet continued to wait patiently, her face a picture of patient understanding as both men expended their energies and slowly found themselves regaining control of their emotions. Within a few minutes, Stephen was sat down, Janet next to him, and John pulled his hand over his face, sighing as he expelled the last vestiges of his own emotional outpouring.


    "How''s everything, Stevie?" John asked, his curiosity masking something else.


    Stephen was going to ask about it. Janet looked between them both for a moment. "That''s a complicated question, John," he began. "Security has been doubled on the surface, Jason''s still missing along with the other prisoners, and something''s going on with Davidson, Miradima and Helen that they''re not telling us about. I''ve not asked because my mind has been elsewhere," he sighed.


    "Stevie," John spoke gently, as though admonishing him. "How are you?"


    Stephen nodded. "Better, now I know you''ve pulled through the worst," he admitted. Janet''s hand slipped into his own, and he squeezed it gratefully, which didn''t go unnoticed.


    "You guys are good?"


    Janet''s head rested on Stephen''s shoulder, and she nodded gently.


    "Very," Stephen said simply, smiling in spite of himself. "How are you?"


    John turned his head back to look at the ceiling. "That''s complicated," he said slowly. "I mean, the injury sucks, and that''s gonna be a bitch to deal with for the next few months," he sighed heavily, and his face winced a little in pain. "Fuck, I hate this," he said quietly.


    Stephen could understand. When he was laid up on a stretcher back in the lunar complex, he felt both useless and a burden to everyone around him. Getting back on his feet and being able to pull his own weight again was the only way to pull himself out of his funk. "Yeah," he said in agreement. "I need to step out of the room a sec," he told them both. "Need anything while I''m gone?"


    "I could use some water," John said, but Janet stood as soon as he did.


    "I''ll get it for you," she offered, approaching a dispenser.


    "Be back in a sec," Stephen told them both as he stepped through the exit.


    Janet came back with a cold bottle of water that had an attached straw, and handed it to John.


    "I''m sorry," she told him, picking up on his melancholy and sadness. "This has to be depressing."


    John nodded, apparently not trusting himself to speak at that moment.


    "He was pretty cut up about your injuries," she told him. "Wanted to go looking for the guy that did it."


    Again, John nodded, swallowed. "Yeah," he said, his voice cold. "I wouldn''t mind having a word with that fucker myself," his tone was hard. "He could have cost me more than the neck injury."


    Janet frowned as she pondered his words, and then thought over the last few weeks. It wasn''t often she saw John around the settlement below, and on the few occasions she did, he was often in the presence of at least one Tau Cetian security officer... Nearly always the same one.


    The officer in question was female, sturdily built with a certain athleticism about her, and almost as tall as John himself. Like all Tau Cetians, she appeared sculpted and defined, and in her capacity as a security officer, looked like someone you did not want to fuck with. She also looked like someone who knew how to keep her cool, and their exchanges in public seemed to be relatively at ease but always studiously professional.


    Though if Janet were honest, they could be talking about toe fungus and vomit jokes and she wouldn''t know it, since she didn''t speak a word of the Tau Cetian language, and the security officer never spoke in English.


    Regardless, something about their interactions had made John seem more at ease than usual, and this latest comment of John''s as he lay in bed, morose, gave Janet pause.


    "How is that security officer friend of yours? I noticed you usually walk around with her on your rounds," Janet smiled uncertainly.


    John''s face was a mask of sorrow, and his reply was a long time coming. "I probably won''t be seeing her again."


    Janet frowned. "What happened?"


    "I don''t wanna talk about it," he said apologetically. Janet nodded, ready to drop the subject. "Just... Now she wants to save me from having to deal with..."


    When he didn''t elaborate, Janet left the subject alone. Whatever was going on with John and this woman, it was a raw wound that would take a while to heal. "Sorry," he told him gently. "I... I hope you''ll be OK."


    They both waited for Stephen to return, Janet feeling awkward for trying to ease the man''s discomfort only to make it worse.

 Chapter 23: Insurgency

    23


    Insurgency


    <hr>


    Jason was chained up against the wall of the cell that had become his home for the last month. Or six weeks. Or...


    He had no real idea how long he was locked up here.


    His tormentors has taken great lengths to ensure that he had no idea what the conditions outside were like. There was a curtain over the inside of the door to his cell, then there was the door itself, and outside of that was another room. The only light anywhere in this place was that generated by battery-power or electrical circuits in the wall panels.


    For however long he had been held captive, he held out against their tactics. They were clearly trying to break him, and every day they would come in, repeat the same thing over and over, and then subject him to all kinds of brutality from bluntly kicking him in the face, to slowly pulling his fingernails, and on many occasions, he was subjected to both electric current, and waterboarding.


    No matter what they did, he refused to back down, and he refused to kowtow to their demands.


    The thin creepy dude who was behind it all would often come to visit, and while in the first few days... Or was it weeks? The dude would be cool, cloying and smarmy as fuck.


    Lately though, he was just plain enraged, shouting and demanding that Jason submit to him in mind and body.


    The fact that he had clearly infuriated the creep gave Jason the strength he needed to keep resisting, even though his body was both exhausted and in a constant state of shock.


    Lately, they''d grabbed some poor girl out of the settlement and started torturing her in a room nearby. Her screams were loud and chilling, and clearly intended to make Jason think that they had managed to grab his sister, but they had refused his demands to see her, and they had refused to show him any sort of proof that she was in their clutches.


    Jason wasn''t stupid. They were still trying to break him, and the relief he felt knowing that she was somehow safe, that both she and their father were somehow beyond their reach was both devastating to his resistance, and relief to his psyche. He had been slipping in and out of consciousness for the last few days now... Or however long it was. Fuck, but he hadn''t eaten or drank anything in some time, and that just had to be messing with him, as much as he had been used to it his whole life.


    Jason was still drifting in and out of consciousness when the door slammed open, blowing the curtain inward, as both ''C'' and ''F'' stepped through, followed by creepy motherfucker ''A''. ''C'' was as cold and indifferent as always, and ''F'' looked like he had just come down from the best blow job ever, but ''A'' looked like he was both incandescent with fury, yet oddly, smugly satisfied.


    Jason felt his heart beat faster, though he felt so weak he was surprised that it could. He felt his mind begin to slip again.


    "You''ve been a constant source of frustration," ''A'' told Jason.


    "Glad I could fuckin'' help," Jason croaked, spitting congealed blood from his mouth onto the floor.


    "Well... We don''t need you right now, so it doesn''t matter any more whether you help us or not."


    Jason shrugged. He was too tired to give a shit. "Whatever," he slurred as his head started to swim again.


    ''A'' turned to ''C''. "Give the order. We''re going to storm the guard post and start moving on the others," he then turned back to Jason. "Last chance. If you want your family to survive what''s coming next, submit to my will and help me to make a better-"


    "Go fuck yourself," Jason hissed with the last of his energy, gratefully slipping into unconsciousness.


    <hr>


    The security substation that serviced the colony was connected to the emergency transport network that the Tau Cetians used to pull people out of danger if they hit their translocator beacons during danger. Anyone who was within it when they hit their translocators would immediately be transported to the nearest orbital vessel, which at that moment was the Kl''Deesius. Anyone outside of the nominal jurisdiction of the building would be transported to a teleport pad within the building if they hit their translocator beacon while outside of it. This way, all emergencies could be accounted for. If security got into trouble somewhere in the settlement, they would be pulled to the safety of the security station, but if the security station itself got into trouble, then the translocators could be used to emergency teleport to the nearest combat-capable ship belonging to the Realm.


    This was generally not known to people at large due to security concerns, and none of the Earth people knew of these facts, so it was completely unexpected when the attack came that day. At midday, dozens of underground insurgents swarmed a transport zone that was being manned by security officers to ensure no theft of cargo was taking place. With only four security officers on duty, two of them in the cargo transport zone itself, they were quickly overwhelmed.


    "Alert! Recall!" one of the officers called out as he saw the first of the assailants, who did not hesitate to throw a knife at him, catching him in the shoulder and momentarily preventing him from reaching for his translocator device. The few seconds delay this caused ended up costing the man his life, and also allowed three assailants to swarm him. At the same time, another knife took the second security officer unaware, and four assailants swarmed him, dragging him to the floor, just as he hit his translocator.


    Then a third Tau Cetian security officer came running to the scene to see what was amiss, before being stabbed in the back. ''C'' was on the scene at the time, and had plunged his shiv into the man''s back, where he hoped the officer''s heart was located. He then waited for the three other assailants who swarmed the building with him to grab a hold of the security officer, who was now bleeding heavily from a badly-damaged heart, and with rough movements, grabbed the officer''s hand, plunging it onto the translocator device.


    Within that instant, the officer vanished in a flash of yellow light, as did everyone who had a grip on him, including ''C''.


    ''C'' looked around as his vision cleared, to see an open-plan room with several security officers running frantically to contain the situation unfolding. Three who had followed him to this location were running to the other guards, throwing knives, slashing, or hacking at the security officers in an attempt to get to them and prevent them from leaving. ''C'' observed as some of the officers hit their own translocator devices, immediately transporting out of the area.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "GRAB ''EM!" he screamed. "THEY''RE ESCAPING!"


    ''A'' was meticulous and brutal in his training regimen, and while these people had only been constantly training for a few months for an opportunity like this, none of them hesitated, grabbing for the nearest security officers and pinning them down. ''C'' grabbed a projectile weapon of some kind from the now dead Tau Cetian officer he had taken a ride with, and started firing it at any of the others who looked as though they might use those stun weapons on his people. This effort would be for nought if they were incapacitated at this stage, and ''A'' had pointed out that if this action failed today, they would never get another chance at this.


    ''C'' knew very well why. If the Tau Cetians reported this incident before they succeeded in their job, then security would be tightened up and procedures changed permanently, making another attempt completely impossible to carry out.


    It had to work.


    Given that there had already been several teleportations out of the zone, it was already likely the enemy forces knew of their actions here and would be alert and prepared for them. ''C'' decided to push forward in the hopes that they could catch them off guard. Everyone here had some basic proficiency in ranged weapons, even if they were mere bow and arrow, and they had been drilled on how to handle rifles and pistols, which were similar enough to the designs the Tau Cetians carried that they would be able to translate that knowledge to their usage.


    One problem immediately presented itself. He noticed that three of his original team were not present, and had not come through to this guard location when they translocated. It seemed that if a Tau Cetian guard was registered as deceased, his translocator would refuse to operate.


    "Everyone grab a hold of the nearestliving guard and stand ready, we move at once," ''C'' barked. When they had done so, he gave a three-count, and they all hit their translocator buttons at once, transferring seven now heavily-armed resistance fighters to some other place they had yet to learn about.


    <hr>


    Davidson and Miradima were within the settlement at the time the initial attack occurred, just after the sun peaked over the garden world. Immediately, an emergency alert pinged through every communicator that was being worn by every Tau Cetian throughout the area, and Miradima reacted immediately, tapping it to connect a channel. "Report," she ordered.


    "Guard Station Fifty-Three has transmitted a Black-Level code," an officer on the other end of the exchange reported tersely, sounding flustered. "They''ve since gone dark. We can''t raise them."


    Miradima let out a few choice oaths in her language, and tapped her communicator twice. "Fleet Commander to Kl''Deesius. Report!"


    "Detected energy-arms fire on transport deck," her tactical Sub-Commander reported. "Ops has attempted to lock down the vessel but the intruders have moved rapidly to-"


    The connection went dead. Miradima wasted no time, tapping her communicator once again. "Fleet Commander to Fleet Command," she barked. "Code Black in orbit of Midinia."


    She waited. Davidson, however, did not. "I''m gonna go find out what happened," he told her, running off to the nearest security officer.


    "Fleet Commander," a voice came over the communicator. "We have your Code Black. Power Signatures on board the Kl''Deesius have gone dark. They do not have power to mount an effective containment of their intruders."


    This complicated matters greatly. Miradima''s extensive military training kicked in, and she ran after Davidson. They would need to organize a counter-offensive and board her ship again before the intruders could do any real damage.


    She was nonetheless astonished that they had seemed to know to kill the power aboard her ship to prevent their forces from being contained, and the speed at which they did so was frightening. There had to have been inside help, and that had stark implications for the alliance and the security of their military forces. She would need to discuss this with Fleet Intelligence at the earliest opportunity.


    Finally, she reached the security sub-station near the settlement, approaching two of her subordinates who were manning the post outside the entrance. "Do we have any forces here for a boarding action?" she asked them.


    "No longer," the first told her apologetically. "Earth General Davidson had taken them to carry out a retaliatory strike. They have already attempted to board the ship.


    <hr>


    Davidson completed his transport to the guard station at that precise moment, armed with a plasma rifle and accompanied by six security officers, all armed, all on high alert.


    Unfortunately, they had missed the action. There was hardly anyone here, the only ones remaining were either dead or bleeding out on the floor. One of the officers had some intense burns to the side of his upper torso and face, and the stench of burning flesh was near-overpowering.


    Grimly, he continued his mission, moving methodically according to standard Tau Cetian military training. Thankfully, it was similar enough to US Army training, that he was able to fit in quite nicely, covering their backs as they moved from one location to the next.


    After a few minutes, they had cleared the entire place. "The area is secure," the lead security officer told him in Tau Cetian, as the others stalked in their direction, all training their weapons in a full-coverage stance that ensured no-one could sneak up on them.


    "Shit," Davidson said under his breath, tapping his communicator. "Davidson to Fleet Commander Miradima," he spoke clearly in the Tau Cetian language.


    "Go ahead," Mira''s voice, though terse and all-business, was a welcome relief.


    "Guard station fifty-three is empty," he reported softly. "They must have blown through here quickly and then boarded the ship. Four dead, the rest are missing."


    "Understood," her voice was like steel. "Report back here as quickly as you can secure the systems there."


    "Yes Commander," he replied in the standard acknowledgment used by the Tau Cetian people, tapping his communicator to kill the connection. "We need to secure this place and then the Fleet Commander wants us back," he told the others, even though they likely heard and understood.


    <hr>


    Mephicia quickly sprinted to the secure station where her subordinate officers were waiting. Fleet Commander Miradima had called her in, even though she had not long completed a standing shift at her post and was on down-time, because she was the overall commander for these officers and they needed her leadership right at this moment.


    She had heard that around thirty minutes ago, the Kl''Deesius had gone dark, supposedly as a result of a boarding action that cost the lives of an unspecified number of her people. Despite her burning desire for answers to a multitude of questions this all caused, Mephicia was a military security officer of long-standing, and her job was clear.


    She arrived to see the Fleet Commander, her posture statuesque, her gestures taut and angry as she gave orders and asked questions of the officers around her.


    As well she might, Mephicia thought in complete agreement.


    "Reporting as ordered," she told the Fleet Commander as she slowed to a stop, giving herself a chance to catch her breath from the sprint.


    "We need to arrange a boarding party to storm the Kl''Deesius and get that ship back in our hands as soon as possible," Miradima told her without preamble. "How many officers do you have at your command that can move immediately?"


    "Nine, not including myself," Mephicia replied.


    "You''re not going," Miradima told her, and Mephicia was about to object harshly when Miradima continued. "I need you to infiltrate another location, one that has just come to our attention as a result of this intruder situation."


    Mephicia frowned. "What?"


    "Review the security footage of the surrounding area later, and you''ll see what we mean. We''ve backtracked some of the insurgents to a location near the edge of the settlement, a building that was seldom visited by anyone else and was not on the plans for this place. We might get lucky and find who is behind this operation."


    Mephicia took a breath and nodded. This invasion of the Fleet Commander''s ship was partly her responsibility, and she had failed to see that this could happen. For her own peace of mind and her own sense of honor, she needed to set this right somehow.


    "Yes Commander," she replied, nodding again, and then jogged toward the security building for some armaments.

 Chapter 24: Hijacked

    24


    Hijacked


    <hr>


    ''A'' was relatively pleased by the results of his planning, as he stepped over to the control panel in the security station he had infiltrated. While the Tau Cetians were running around like headless chickens over the invasion of one of their precious ships, he had snuck in to their security compound right under their noses, taken out one of their security officers, and forced one of their technicians at gunpoint to operate the transport functions to have him sent to the ship, along with forty other people he had stashed away at the edge of the settlement.


    Of course, it had to be a technician, and not a military officer. Military training for those types would prevent them from caving to any demands or threats he made, and it would be a waste of his time, but some of the technicians the Tau Cetians employed on the surface of this world were from civilian sectors of their society, and therefore more easily coerced.


    And was he ever skilled at using fear and pain to coerce others to his will.


    Within an instant, ''A'' appeared in one of the ships'' cargo bays, along with the other forty people he had conscripted into his army. Most of them had been convinced of the need to fight to free themselves of the Tau Cetians, and would willingly lay down their lives to fight for what they believed was a threat to their very species survival.


    ''A'' knew better, of course.


    Ever since he was pulled from Earth, he had planned something like this. Only the timescale was open to question, and he was a patient man, in spite of the persona he gave to others in his cadre.


    The only one he had not managed to break was that upstart kid, Jason Mensar.


    His only failure.


    He still had no idea why, and none of his usual techniques worked. Torture was an abject failure even though it was an effective, if crude, method of coercion. Deceit was also a failure. It seemed Jason was too smart to fall for any of ''A''s tricks, including pretending to have captured his sister and tortured her in a nearby room. Despite pulling a young girl from the settlement that sounded very similar in voice to the kid''s sister, Jason was not fooled, and his shrewd questioning about his sister''s whereabout, coupled with his demands to see her and talk to her, made that a futile exercise to continue.


    ''A'' ordered ''D'' to cut her throat earlier that day. She was useless to them now.


    Jason was useless as well, but they had run out of time to deal with the other prisoners that were in their base of operations, and had to move quickly once they had the information they needed to put their plan into action.


    It had taken months of careful surveillance, infiltration and seemingly-innocuous questions to learn what he needed to know about the operation concerning the Tau Cetian guard post that they had eventually taken over. He wasn''t quite sure, but he had come across some knowledge of Tau Cetian command codes. How these codes came to him was anyone''s guess, but ''A'' was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, as the old expression went.


    "Wait here," he told them all roughly, stepping up to the doors that led off of the deck to some other place on the ship. As he did, they were being wedged open, and ''C'' pushed his way through. "Well?"


    "We''ve found their arms room. Got two of our guys carrying as many assault rifles as they can just behind me."


    ''A'' nodded. They could arm some of the guys in the cargo bay with these weapons, then go back to the arms room and arm the rest, assuming the way was still open to them and had not been closed off by the ships'' own security forces. He turned back to those in the cargo bay and started giving orders.


    <hr>


    Mephicia took a security force in to a nondescript building at the edge of the settlement. She was somewhat anxious about the outcome of this action, given she currently had to shepherd a bunch of civilians from the surviving human population with her, including the rather volatile companion that she had noticed in Stephen''s company.


    Miradima had ordered her to take them as an advisory team, just in case there were prisoners located there, and they needed someone or several others who were more like themselves as reassurance. While the health of the humans in the settlement were far healthier than they had been on the day of their arrival, they were still woefully undernourished, weaker and smaller than Tau Cetians were on average, and having larger people looming over you when you had been trapped for an unknown length of time was likely to cause some fear and panic in the survivors.


    So, despite Mephicia''s misgivings, Janet Fletcher was with the group. Mephicia point blank refused to take anyone who was injured, which meant that Stephen was still out with his broken wrist, Davidson was still at guard post fifty-three dealing with the aftermath there, and thankfully, John was in no position to engage in any sort of combat action.


    Berating herself for giving even a moment''s consideration for the distraction that thoughts of John were causing her, she exerted her sheer force of will to get her mind back on the task at hand, and that was to secure whatever they found at this building.


    <hr>


    Jason''s head was groggy, and he was exhausted. He had no idea how much time had passed since the creepy thin guy was there, and he had no idea what day it was, or where he was.


    He was barely coherent, struggling to recall what he was even doing there.


    He winced as he coughed up some more blood. Those assholes really did a number on him, he thought, amused.


    He flinched as the door crashed open, and several people poured through the entrance into the room where he was. He could not make out what they were shouting, but he briefly noticed with some amusement, that they were armed with what he thought were alien weapons. He would laugh at the absurdity of the image, if he weren''t so damned tired.


    He must have blacked out for a minute, because when he noticed what was going on again, there were several people crowded around him, one of them couched behind him holding him in an inclined position. It was a much more comfortable position than being hung up against the wall with those bungee-cord like ropes he had been tied up with before.


    His head spaced off again, as he drifted off on thoughts of what he''d like to do if he ever saw that creepy thin motherfucker again, after threatening his family.


    When he came to, he saw, to his surprise, that Janet was kneeling in front of him, her face redder than the blood in his veins, tracks of moisture running down her face, and probably the angriest expression he had ever seen in her eyes. He felt something on his neck though, and he realized it was her hand...


    It was very gentle, though.


    That was odd. Why was she being soft with him when she was clearly so angry with him for some reason?


    "I-" He tried to speak, but his throat was dry. He had trouble swallowing.


    "Where the fuck is that medic, damn it?!" Janet screeched. It took a moment, but Jason could have sworn that he heard some voice echo around the room a second later, before one of the others replied, and then that disembodied voice...


    Wait, he understood that. It told them to clear a space.


    He blacked out again. As he came to, he could see someone had wrapped something around his arm, attached to a bag, and they were injecting some sort of clear fluid into his veins. He had no idea what it was, and he was too weak to do anything about it. As the bag dripped fluid into his veins, the person who had not been there just a moment ago, was busy wiping a swab across different parts of his face. The irritation and stinging it caused Jason was not enough to cause much of a reaction, but he still felt it.


    "If I ever find who did this to him, I''m going to kill them with my bare hands," Janet seethed as more moisture poured from her eyes.


    Jason blacked out again, his last conscious thought was immense surprise that she seemed to care at all.


    <hr>


    Mephicia had managed to secure the building, and was reporting her findings to the Fleet Commander.


    "There were nineteen in this building. Twelve bodies, seven still breathing, but many are in a critical state," she reported tersely, ruthlessly suppressing her distress over the poor state of some of the prisoners. "We need medical on site immediately or we will lose more."This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "I''ll get it underway," Miradima told her curtly. "Send coordinates for emergency transport out of the building. What else do you have?"


    Mephicia keyed in the code needed to broadcast her global coordinates to the network as she continued her report. "Two of the bodies were from our people. One was a security guard, the other seemed to be a civilian technician. Both of them have been dead for weeks."


    "Idents?"


    "Still waiting on their biometrics, but so far nothing has come up as unaccounted for in the network."


    "Understood," Miradima replied punctiliously. "Keep me apprised and get your teams back here as soon as medical evac is complete."


    The connection went dead. Mephicia resumed her task of investigating this place and how it went undetected for so long.


    <hr>


    ''A'' took his team to push forward toward the ships'' command center. His plan was to call for the surrender of the enemy, the handover of several ships to load the humans aboard, and then the departure of those ships back to Earth. This was his main objective, and he already had coordinates provided to him by a civilian technician he had been tipped off by in the early days of the colony settlement.


    Apparently, some of the Tau Cetians didn''t want the humans around, and that suited ''A'' and his purposes neatly.


    As he pushed his team to the bridge of the ship, he encountered resistance. Many of his own people were killed.


    Too many.


    This was becoming difficult already, and they had not even managed to capture the command centre yet. Just in this push forward, he had lost five people to two of their security forces, an unacceptable ratio of loss to kills.


    "Fall back," he called out. "Hold position in the corridor to our backs!"


    As they rapidly, if haphazardly fell back to the last corridor they had rushed through, two of the seven he had brought with him collapsed to the floor in prone position, immediately deploying their assault weapons forward and sighting them forward. Three more crouched behind them in a kneeling position, while the other two each retreated flush against the walls of the corridor, still standing, sighting their weapons down the hallway.


    An object came flying past the corner of the corridor, trailing smoke. ''A'' cursed himself for not accounting for the possibility of grenades, even though they were on a spaceship, as he threw himself back, abandoning those in the corridor and running quickly toward another corridor intersection.


    The bright flash and thunderous explosion caused him to go momentarily blind and deaf, but he avoided the rest of it. Those that he had left behind though, were blinded, deafened and incapacitated, and would no doubt be immobilised permanently by the security officers.


    Taking an opportunity to turn back around, he fired a burst of energy projectiles back the way he had come, and sprinted off toward the outer sections of the ship.


    He had a backup plan and was about to enact it.


    <hr>


    ''C'' had just infiltrated the midsections of the ship. They were not far from one of the alternative cargo bays this ship had aboard, as indicated by the plans that ''A'' had managed to somehow obtain.


    How exactly ''A'' got this information was a puzzle that ''C'' could only guess at, but it wasn''t his job to know these things.


    What he needed to do now, was to find someone who was still alive, but who was not able to put much of a fight up against him,. and that meant some sort of convalescent facility, like a sick bay or whatever he could find. Whoever he found would need to be able to operate some of the ship functions and override the lock-outs that the original crew no doubt had put in to place. They needed to do this so that they could send their message to the others in the system and let them know that Earth was not to be messed with.


    Jogging through the vessel, through darkened corridors lit only by emergency lighting, ''C'' shot anyone who seemed armed, killing them in an instant. Those who were not, he ignored unless they came running at him, then he shot them too. So far, he had seven more kills since boarding the ship, and he knew he wasn''t done yet.


    There. That seemed like a good candidate.


    ''C'' approached a set of double-doors, which slid open at his approach without interference. The bay within was dimly lit, like the rest of the ship, but the presence of what clearly looked like medical beds was confirmation.


    Unfortunately, no-one was in here.


    Stepping into the bay, ''C'' quickly scouted the room out, looking around privacy dividers and curtains to see if anyone was present. He even took a quick look in the restroom stalls that sat adjacent to the room itself.


    No-one.


    Cursing under his breath, he stepped out of the room and back into the corridor. Hopefully, he would be able to come across others on this damned ship.


    John carefully pulled himself out from under the medical bed as he heard the assailant step quickly out of the room. As soon as power dropped to the ship''s main lighting functions, and as soon as the telltale hum of the vessel''s reactor suddenly went silent, John knew the ship was in trouble, and that it could only be because it had been boarded. There had been no collisions, no sign of weapons fire hitting the hull or the vessel''s shielding, and no sign of explosions or decompression.


    Who was it?


    He needed to know. Though his injury to his neck was still tender, he had rested sufficiently to be able to at least keep alert and check out the situation.


    Grabbing a fabric belt, he tied his medical gown to himself to aid in his movements, grabbed an injector and plugged it into the dispensary. He keyed in the panel and opened the medical dispenser program, only to be told he did nit have access.


    "Shit," he cursed under his breath. There wasn''t much time. He stepped quickly to the main control panel set into the far wall and waved his hand across it. The display came to life, in low-power mode.


    He accessed the internal sensor systems and waited as the AI on board checked his credentials. He was not a member of the crew, nor were any of his friends, but Miradima did give special dispensation to Helen for her access, and he was technically under her care, and a trusted ally. He hoped that some provision had been made, even if it didn''t make sense from a security perspective.


    A small sensor window appeared in the bottom-left corner, and John examined it. There wasn''t much here, except for a series of unidentified blobs on the deck he was currently standing, and three green outlines. He tapped one experimentally.


    Leila Mensar. She was with another, and John confirmed it was Edward. They appeared to be hiding in some small out-of-the-way corridor or shaft, far from the unidentified blobs on the chart.


    John tapped the third outline.


    Security Sub-Officer Adirim.


    Deceased.


    "Fuck," John cursed under his breath. He tapped at a control cog to see if there were any options, and the controls to switch decks appeared. He flipped between them all, seeing a number of outlines, but he had no way to know if they were still alive, and a large group of them were among the unidentified blobs.


    The Bridge appeared. All of the blobs there had outlines, and some of them appeared to be moving. He tapped one.


    Tactical Sub-Commander Gerinar. Alive.


    John risked speaking aloud. "Can I make requests from here?" he hoped that the AI would respond.


    "Affirmative, John Malakhi."


    That was good enough. "Do we have communications to the surface?"


    "Negative. The communications array has been locked out by command crew as part of Code Black intrusion protocol."


    Great, John sighed. "Do we have internal comms?"


    "Only with select officers."


    "Can you tell me which floor Helen Deckland is on?"


    Instead of replying out loud, the AI flipped the deck plan on the sensor window to show another deck, this one with a small number of green outlined spaced across the ship. One of them began flashing, and John tapped it.


    Helen Deckland, guest medical officer. Alive.


    "Connect me to her comm device."


    A moment passed where nothing happened, then John heard a whisper. "John?"


    "Yeah, it''s me."


    "Are you still in medical?"


    "Yeah," he told her. "I was trying to fill a hypo with a sedative. Can you authorize it?"


    A pause. "John, what are you trying to do?" Her voice was tense despite still whispering.


    "Someone needs to get a signal to the surface so they can send security up here and retake the ship."


    "You''re in no condition to-"


    "Save it, Helen," John cut her off forcibly. "Those fuckers have been killing crew members. Very few of those I''ve discovered are even alive. I can''t get a hold of anyone on the bridge because it''s locked down, and there''s a whole bunch of unidentified heat signatures outside that door now. Someone has to do something."


    The pause after his words lasted even longer. "You don''t risk your neck, you hear?"


    "I''ll do my best," John told her. "That''s all I can promise."


    Helen''s sigh was that of a long-suffering mother who was always bailing her kid out of scrapes. John was amused by that thought, given she was about to have a child of her own. "I''ve given you access to the dispenser. It''s been coded for the strongest sedative I could find in the ships'' stores."


    "I''m on it. I''ll try to get a message to the surface. Talk later," John told her, and then tapped the comm symbol on the panel, closing the connection. "Show me a route to a communication array access panel," he ordered the AI.


    "Access to that information is outside of your clearance level."


    John was not pleased. The computer was going to scupper his efforts based on protocols that were no longer useful in this situation. "This vessel belongs to the Klankharis Realm, is that correct?"


    "Affirmative."


    "There is a Code Black intrusion alert currently engaged, is that correct?"


    "Affirmative."


    "All authorized crew members are either dead, or sealed in a location they can no longer grant access to the communication array, is that correct?"


    "Affirmative."


    "Then how do you expect anyone to be able to come to the assistance of this vessel if the only people allowed to send a distress call and our coordinates are locked out of being able to do so?"


    There was a lengthy pause as the AI processed a series of alternative courses of action, or at least that was what John assumed it was doing. After almost half a minute, the voice replied. "There is no possibility of an authorized crew member currently able to send a message to Fleet Command or any other authorized command station."


    "Then don''t you think, since I might be able to get to a communications array, that it might be helpful for you to show me how, and then what to do when I get there?"


    There was another pause. This one wasn''t as long, but it was still lengthy enough to concern John.


    "Temporary authorization to ships functions granted under the command codes for security Sub-Commander Mephicia," the voice replied, causing John¡¯s heart to skip a beat. "This access will be noted in the command logs for review at a later date."


    Well, John sighed. At least he was able to get around the lack of access. "Now, show me a route to the nearest comms array access point."

 Chapter 25: Boarding actions

    25


    Boarding Actions


    <hr>


    John rushed quickly to the communication array access panel, two decks below the medical bay near the forward section of the ship. If he could get a message to some Klankharis Realm forces, he could get them a precise position of the vessel and they could send boarding parties to recapture the ship.


    At least, that was the plan.


    As he rounded a corner leading to the forward communications array, he spotted three people.


    Edward, Leila, and the guy who had plunged the shiv into his throat the last time they fought. John swallowed, his throat dry all of a sudden, and then felt a phantom pain in his throat as he recalled the knife plunging through to his airways, causing his lungs to rapidly fill with blood.


    He shook off the distressing memory and tried to clear his head, focusing on the fact that this character was now stalking both Edward and Leila. He crept quietly as he could, hoping that his footsteps were muted sufficiently by the deck plating, and that the assailant did not hear his approach.


    "You know, we''ve been looking for you," the thug sneered at Leila, who gaped at him, frozen in shock. "Your brother wants to kill us because of you. See, we threatened him that we would bring you in and start cutting off fingers and toes, breaking kneecaps, to get him to help us."


    Those sick fucks, John seethed inwardly.


    "And you know what he said?" The thug drawled, John continuing his painfully slow progress toward the guy''s back. "He said he didn''t give a fuck about you, that he''d be happy to see you both dead."


    John knew that for the lie it was. Whatever else Jason was, he was fiercely protective of his sister. There''s no way he would ever wish harm upon her, not even as a means of deceit.


    Apparently, so did Edward. "You don''t know our family as well as you think, if you expect me to believe that," Edward said quietly. The thug quickly stepped toward the older man, hitting him across the face with the back of his hand, hard. Edward collapsed to the floor, but the glare he gave the thug was cold fury.


    It was clear to John at that moment where Jason got his steel from.


    "Still, doesn''t matter. You''re no longer of any use to us, so goodbye-"


    With that, the thug reached toward Edward on the floor, about to pull him up. John didn''t hesitate, as he pushed off into a sprint, rushing the man and plunging the injector into the man''s neck. The powerful sedative entered the man''s veins, but it didn''t take effect quickly enough, as the thug elbowed John in the ribs, and tried to shake him off. The butt of the energy rifle came flying towards John''s nose, but John let go of the man''s back, reached for the stock of the rifle, and started pulling with everything he had. The rifle missed his face, and now the two of them were rolling on the floor, attempting to wrestle the weapon out of the thug''s hands.


    It went off.


    John continued to struggle, fearful it could hit someone, hoping to God that it didn''t, and that Edward was smart enough to get him and his daughter out of the way.


    He didn''t see either of them in the brief glimpses he had of the corridor as he continued to roll around, wrestling the rifle out of the thug''s hands.


    Why the hell wasn''t he weakening? John was desperate, his strength was beginning to wane, and he needed this over with quickly before he lost his grip and the thug freed himself to grab the weapon and shoot him dead with it.


    Out of nowhere, Leila had collided with the thug''s head in an almighty kick that sent him sprawling, losing his grip on the rifle and causing it to fly out of both their hands to the deck. She was immediately up on her feet, running toward John, when the thug pulled his shiv out again, and prepared to plunge it into whatever he could get his hands on. Leila was too close. She would be stabbed mortally if the thug got his way, but he was beginning to tire.


    This bought John the time he needed, as he dove for the rifle, picked it up, flipped it around, and sighted it on the thug''s head as the knife started to arc toward Leila''s back.


    He fired.


    The blast from the weapon plunged straight into the thug''s head, knocking him back forcefully, and causing the knife to miss its target. The thug collapsed to the deck, and the only movement was from the occasional nervous twitch.


    He was dead.


    John let out an exhausted sigh, just as Leila sharply called out for her father to come back. Within moments, Edward was there, looking John over, and breathing a sigh of relief. "Glad he''s dead," Edward told them both. "That''s one death I won''t lose any sleep over."


    John sighed. "You can say that again," he muttered. "Come on, I gotta get to the control panel for the comms array."


    "Let me guess," Edward spoke up. "Letting our people know how to get to us?"


    John nodded tiredly. "Come on," he told them both.


    <hr>


    ''A'' reached his destination, a launch bay near the back of the ship. He knew of two small launch vehicles, both small, both short-range, neither FTL capable, and neither with any meaningful amount of life support provision.


    They were still enough for his purposes, but he knew his time was running out.


    He stalked into the launch bay, shooting at both of the security officers who had remained at their posts. Both took hits to their bodies, and went down. ''A'' considered shooting them both again to ensure they were dead, but that would take time he needed to launch and get out of the area. Instead, he jumped into one of the launcher, powered it up using techniques taught to him by the technician he had held on the surface, and sent a control signal to the bay doors. Surprising him, a forcefield appeared to flash into existence over the doors and then they opened.


    Maybe ''A'' should have killed the guards after all, now that he knew the bay wasn''t going to be flushed out into space.


    No. He had limited time to complete this launch. He pushed the throttle forward, forcing the vessel to launch underneath the only-partially-opened doors, and zoomed out into space. He adjusted his course, poured on speed to get a high orbit, and then cut all power to the systems aboard the ship. In a few hours, he would reach the peak of the orbit, and hopefully he would find what he was looking for.Stolen novel; please report.


    <hr>


    Miradima waited for news from the teams that had gone out. It had been almost an hour since she had started the retaliatory measures intended to get the situation under control.


    "Davidson to Fleet Commander Miradima," Walter''s voice sounded over the communicator.


    Miradima sighed heavily, letting out a breath she hadn''t even realized she was holding. "Go ahead," she replied punctiliously.


    "We''ve secured the area. Relief personnel are deploying here now, and advise us we can return if you need us to."


    Miradima could use his presence, even if she had to keep her command head on her shoulders for the remainder of the emergency. "Understood. Report directly to me when you arrive."


    "Understood, Commander." Walter replied, before the link went dead. It piped back up again almost immediately. "Security Command to Fleet Commander," Mephicia''s voice sounded over the device.


    "Report," Miradima said softly.


    "Medevac is on site," she told them, her voice, while terse and a little steely, betrayed a hint of something Miradima understood as pain. "But we need fully staffed medical facilities quickly, or we''re going to lose more of them."


    "Stay there, I''ll get back to you." Miradima told her as she heard the tell-tale alert of an incoming communication. She switched over to the new one. "Fleet Commander."


    "Fleet Commander, incoming orbital coordinates have been broadcast. Looks like we have transport coordinates from one of the ships crew. Signature seems to include the initials J and M."


    Miradima wasted no time. "Send them to me now. Stand by," she ordered, switching back over. "Mephicia, we have coordinates. Get your people ready to move. I''m sending you up there with the remainder of our security forces. The relief can take over where you are."


    "Yes Commander," Mephicia said over the other line just as the coordinates came through to Miradima''s wrist pad. She forwarded them on using the device to her security officer, and then closed the connection, returning to the other officer. "Security is on the way to those coordinates now. If you have any additional forces, send them to the same coordinates and get my ship back."


    "Yes Commander," the officer replied quickly, and the connection terminated.


    Miradima sighed, letting out her pent up frustration at this situation having occurred in the first place. A moment later, Walter jogged over to her, and stood nearby, knowing her well enough that he knew she was too agitated to engage in any tenderness, but knowing also that she appreciated his solid presence nearby. Her heart lifted slightly because of this.


    <hr>


    In the end, the retaking of the ship was rather anticlimactic. Fifty or so Klankharis security officers stormed the ship from the cargo bay where they had teleported aboard, quickly and effectively overwhelming the enemy combatants that had been busy trying to burn their way through the blast door protecting the bridge from their attack.


    They didn''t even see it coming.


    Within minutes, the ship was declared as secured, and technicians from the vessel''s bridge restored power and began organizing search and rescue teams for anyone else still aboard. Security remained aboard to assist in this action.


    Helen immediately contacted the surface as soon as communications were restored, offering her services as medic, and emergency transports were organized to the ship. Jason, being the most gravely injured, was immediately transferred to the ship.


    Stephen had just heard from the surface, that the situation aboard the ship had been resolved, and he had asked to be sent back so he could help out as much as possible. His wrist was still somewhat tender, but the bones had fused, and he could at least use it again.


    The moment he heard that Jason Mensar had been found in critical condition, he knew that some of his new friends would be there to see him, and his desire to allow them privacy warred with the knowledge that Janet, for all she was furious with Jason at his theft and behaviour, would be distraught that he had been so gravely ill.


    He decided to go visit. He could always depart and give them some room again if needed.


    Stepping into the medical bay that was now becoming a little too familiar to him, Stephen saw the organized chaos that was taking place. Medical technicians were working furiously around Jason''s medical bed, and Stephen nearly went into shock at what he saw.


    Jason was unconscious, clearly. He was also covered in lacerations, barely-healed wounds, burns, deep gashes, and bruising. He appeared to have a misshapen nose, his left eye was swollen badly, and his mouth was slackened open, revealing that many of his teeth had been shattered or had fallen out entirely.


    Whatever had happened to him, it must have been awful. He couldn''t find the words.


    It didn''t surprise him in the least that Edward was hovering nearby, his face grim, his eyes watering profusely, lip quivering but attempting to remain stoic in the face of what he was seeing. Leila was a mess, she was openly wailing, pleading for the technicians to help her brother, clutching desperately at her father as she did.


    Next to them, Janet stood, stock still, eyes red-rimmed. While she stood like a statue, her arm pulled Leila into a hug, and Stephen could see the shaking of her own hands as she did so.


    Without hesitation, he stepped slowly over to Edward, and wrapped the man into a hug, squeezing the man''s shoulders gently. Edward allowed himself to be comforted by the gesture, allowed his head to fall to Stephen''s shoulder, and his breathing became ragged.


    Stephen noticed that a hand took his, squeezing. He looked over at Janet, and she stared at him, her expression revealing both anguish and gratitude, as she continued to squeeze his hand in appreciation. He squeezed back as the tears fell from her eyes, and she turned her face back to the top of Leila''s head and kissed it tenderly.


    <hr>


    John returned to the medical bay at that point, wearied from his trek through the ship. Both Edward and Leila had sprinted off ahead of him when the call came in that Jason had been picked up and was in a critical condition. Since John himself was exhausted, he took his time getting back to the bay.


    As he stepped through the doors, he saw the tableau of people holding each other in anguish, and he looked over to get his first look at Jason.


    Holy mother of...


    If John had absolutely detested Jason at all in his life, that all vanished in an instant when he saw just how badly the kid was injured. He saw exactly what Stephen did at that moment, and that was a badly wounded kid, one who had probably been subjected to God knows what, and one that would probably never be the same again. He said nothing, deciding that his presence would be unwelcome right now, even as Stephen hugged it out with a distraught Edward, Janet held Leila close, and both holding each other''s hand. It told John so much in that instant, that they both grieved with their friends and family, yet they also took comfort in each others'' presence.


    He felt the touch of a hand against his own, startling him. He hadn''t even noticed the medical bay doors opening again.


    Phee.


    His heart sang to see her there, watching over the scene, her pose statuesque, her manner stoic and inscrutable, but there was an ever-so-slight hint of emotion in her gaze as she looked over them, and as she gently stroked her hand against John''s, she looked his way briefly, before turning around and leaving.


    Part of him wanted to go running off after her, to see if they could talk.


    Another part of him reminded him that she had asked for time to deal with her own feelings regarding them, and he was in no rush himself. Trying to get her to confront the situation was not only a counterproductive idea that was almost always doomed to failure in any circumstance, but they were stood in the midst of a medical emergency that had just followed on from an enemy boarding action.


    Sighing in resignation, he stepped out of the bay, leaning back against the wall tiredly, and taking a deep breath, closing his eyes.


    Opening them again, he looked down the corridor toward the front of the ship. Surprisingly, he saw her there.


    "You OK?" he asked her.


    She seemed a little hesitant to answer him. "It''s nothing," she eventually said.


    He pushed off of the bulkhead, slowly approached her, and looked directly into her eyes. "I don''t think that''s true," he said gently, as softly as he could, holding up a hand before she could protest or object. "I''m not going to pry or ask questions. Just..." He paused for a moment, wishing that she would take comfort in his presence and let him be a sounding board for whatever was concerning her, knowing at the same time, that she wasn''t ready to do that yet. "I''m here if you want to talk."


    He stood back at that point, and then slowly walked away so she could be alone with her thoughts.

 Chapter 26: Possessor

    26


    Possessor


    <hr>


    ''A'' drifted aboard the launch he had stolen earlier, as it reached the periapsis of Midinia. The trajectory would take it back to the same orbital plane that the Kl''Deesius had taken earlier, but he wasn''t concerned with such things. All he knew was that he needed to get to this point in space.


    He wasn''t even sure what precisely compelled him to do this, only that it had been a deep seated instinct from years ago, when he was on Earth.


    Consciously, none of this made sense to him. He enjoyed making others suffer for his own amusement. He had taken great pleasure in torturing everyone that he had taken from the colony. He had railed at anyone that might resist him. Finally, he had been determined to free the Earth people from whatever this society was that the ''aliens'' had brought along with them.


    It was this kind of thinking that the fragment of consciousness residing in his mind capitalized upon. The species were a non-corporeal, gaseous collective mind, one that could split its consciousness into individual units akin to the individuals that they used as hosts, and very similar to those individuals that they had descended from so many millions of years before.


    The fragment had used ''A'' and his tendency to cause suffering as a means to get it to try and fragment the alliance between the Tau Cetians and the Earth people, and had met with near complete failure. When the fragment had encountered this individual on the surface of the planet, on one of the very few occasions this individual had ventured out from his luxury shelter built by his ancestors and provided for by untold amounts of elitist wealth, it had no idea what it would find. The mission had begun as one of possession, subjugation of the entire populace of Earth, while attempting to evade the notice of the Tau Cetian people, who had developed an uncanny ability to detect their presence. As it begun to infuse itself with the man''s mind, it found concepts of intellectual superiority, desire for control, a strong belief that he was meant to be someone great and powerful, and he had considered himself a master planner, a strategist, and a leader of men.


    The fragment had never known delusion, and did not know at the time, that the man in question was kidding himself.


    Nevertheless, the fragment did find a use for this man, and as soon as it realized the man was not as competent, skilled or charismatic as he thought he was, it triggered instincts and inserted vague impressions of what it wanted him to do. This was a new trick for their species, in that they did not take total control over the host, but rather turned their natural personality traits to their own advantage, in this case, encouraging more paranoia, inflating the sadistic tendencies of the man, and even going as far as sharpening the man''s focus so that he could obtain critical information that the fragment could deploy into a later plan.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    The fragment had directed ''A'' to capture and detain a Tau Cetian technician, one that had been fortunate for the fragment, to have been running behind schedule in deploying some command code access to the settlement so that their security forces could maintain watch over the Earth people. This came in useful when infiltrating the command network, and allowed the fragment to give ''A'' the knowledge needed to operate the control systems for the Tau Cetian information network, if only temporarily.


    It had been a boon to finally tap a way to gain access to the Tau Cetian command network and gain access to the teleporter technology, and gave the fragment a way to return to its'' people and provide an intelligence report without the Tau Cetians being able to stop it in time. The whole take-over of the Kl''Deesius was a diversion, as was the kidnap and torture of the human prisoners. The fragment did not care one way or another what the humans did to each other, only that it was able to tap them to find a weakness.


    Now, as the fragment prepared to signal its'' host ship to close in on their position, it prepared to have ''A'' eject itself into space. The intelligence and the personality of the subject was of little consequence. The fragment would be able to take everything it needed without issue, even if the host perished completely. What having ''A'' near the ship and in position to eject into the fragment''s own host ship would provide instead, was an opportunity to take genetic material that the fragments'' own species could then turn to its'' own advantage.


    This was a long game for the non-corporeal species known to the humans as the Possessors, and one that had caused a great schism early in their non-corporeal existence.


    Somewhere out there was another hive mind, one who was vehemently opposed to their objectives here in human space, but they were far less powerful, and so far, had stayed distant. None of their kind had been seen in this half of the galaxy in hundreds of thousands of years.


    The organic vessel closed the distance, altering its'' velocity so it held still relative to the launch, and ''A'' tapped a control, ejecting the canopy into space, along with himself.


    That same instant, the host ship opened up, creating a cavity for the host body to fly into, sealing itself again in an instant.


    The host human body would be preserved, and the fragment detached itself slowly from the host, and re-absorbed into its own host ship, reconnecting with the rest of its'' consciousness and becoming a whole being once more. Now, it was time to leave the system and return to the hive mind so it could reconnect with the rest of them.


    Very slowly, very carefully, the organic vessel that the Possessor now inhabited, began to reverse direction, increasing its speed to increase its orbit. Once the opportunity presented itself, it would break orbit and head to a Lagrange point between this fifth planet and the gas giant beyond, where it would hopefully have enough distance to make a safe transition to the under-fabric of space-time and exit the system in a more timely manner.


    As the journey continued, and the Possessor consciousness patiently waited for the right moment, the host ship ejected the canopy into space now that it had sequestered the human body safely within. Their ships were capable of preserving any organic tissue, living or dead, for weeks at a time. They would be able to get it back to the hive collective long before ''A'' expired.

 Chapter 27: Healing wounds

    27


    Healing Wounds


    <hr>


    Three weeks later


    Jason had regained consciousness a few days earlier, though he was in a stater somewhere between catatonic and furious. It was difficult to tell, and even more difficult to manage for everyone concerned. Physically, he would eventually recover and be a fully normal human being with all of his organs intact and running normally. Psychologically, he was severely wounded, perhaps even broken, by his experience.


    Difficult to deal with before, and prone to bursts of frustration and anger, he had become single-mindedly intent on refusing to admit weakness, take advice, instruction, or acknowledge weakness, fault, or the need to consider that others might know certain things about himself better than he wass able to reliably report at that moment.


    Helen reported to everyone that was worried about his mental well-being that he was going to be difficult to deal with for some time, and refused to put a timescale on his recovery. She also warned the others that the very last thing Jason needed was anyone treating him either like an invalid, like spun glass, or reminding him that he was not the only one down there to suffer. She had admonished everyone in advance that Jason was not someone who had shown the classic signs of narcissism, but that his self-centred attitude was going to get worse for a while, as he came to terms with what happened. Telling him that it didn''t mater what he felt was strictly off limits, she had told them, looking significantly at Edward and John as she reminded them.


    Edward was not about to ignore such advice. Before Jason''s disappearance, he had been furious at the boy for refusing to work with the other settlers, for stealing what he wanted despite plenty being available to go around, for trying to rebel for the sake of being contrary, and for lying to him and using his sister as a weapon to get what he wanted.


    During his disappearance, Edward had worried for the boy, even if he still felt anger that Jason had behaved so poorly.


    And when he had heard the extent of the torture that Jason had suffered at the hands of those monsters that had taken him, he broke, utterly and completely. It no longer mattered what Jason had done in the past. What had happened was far beyond anything that anyone in the settlement had deserved to have visited upon them, and at the last, he was both heartbroken that his boy had suffered so much, and proud that he had resisted every attempt to break his spirit that those monsters had visited upon him.


    It hurt Edward to know that Jason was still hostile toward him, but he was not prepared to push the issue. He would make it known that he would be there any time Jason needed to talk, but he would not make him do so.


    So, on the third day, as he planned on making another visit to the newly-constructed medical pre-fab at the settlement, Edward spoke with Leila about her brother.


    "Are you going to try and visit Jason today?" he asked her.


    She had been unusually vocal recently, given she had been so naturally quiet for most of her life. The look she gave him was almost condescendingly that of a long-suffering mother. "Dad, he''s angry at the whole world right now," she told him patiently. "It''s not fair, what-" She stopped, raising a hand, gathering herself from that momentary slip in her composure. "Sorry dad."


    "Why are you sorry?" Edward asked, surprised.


    She looked toward him, her expression full of sorrow. "I should have tried harder to stop him from stealing. If he hadn''t taken anything that day, he wouldn''t have been arrested and locked up, they wouldn''t have kidnapped him, and he''d-"


    "Hey," Edward gently admonished, forestalling any further words. Leila looked guiltily down at the hands in her lap. "You cannot blame yourself. I certainly don''t blame you for this. None of us were to know what would happen." Edward waved his arm out toward the holding facility where the surviving remnants of the insurgency were now safely sealed away, under extremely heavy guard. "Those monsters over there, they''re the ones to blame. They robbed him of his humanity, his... They came very close to destroying him. They''re the ones who should be sorry, Leila, not you. Never you. You didn''t make them kidnap prisoners, and you certainly weren''t holding a knife to anyone''s throat. Don''t take guilt for what was never your fault to begin with."


    The vehemence he had spoken the last sentence shocked him, and momentarily silenced Leila''s protests. A moment later, she leapt up out of her chair and strode to him, wrapping him in a hug and squeezing him tight. In turn, he wrapped his own arms around her and let out a deep sigh, releasing all of his grief for his only remaining son, thankful that his daughter was safe and well, and that she had such compassion for her brother.


    "You go visit him," he told his daughter. "He''s still angry at the world, and seeing me will only upset him further... But if he asks to see me, let me know right away."


    Without lifting her head from his shoulder, Leila nodded, rubbing his back. "I will, dad."


    <hr>


    Janet sat with Stephen on a long cushioned bench, up on the roof of one of the residential blocks. In a desire for privacy, many of the residents of these blocks had requested, and were granted, access to roof sections of the pre-fabs so that they could go out and enjoy the sun, while being separate from other people. Dividers had been set up between each block on the roof, giving the whole thing an open balcony type arrangement with walls between each living space.


    One of the perks of being in the core group of humans at the settlement was that Stephen and Janet both had first pick of the available units, and they also had a relative modicum of privacy from others. This was advantageous, as both had selected the units adjacent to each other, and when the partitioning went up for the roof balconies, they had combined their own two zones into a single balcony space, giving them plenty of room.


    It wasn''t like moving in together, at least not entirely, and nothing official was said. However, it did allow them both to spend more time together and see each other more frequently. Ever since the day Janet had revealed her feelings for Stephen, they had spent nearly every day together, and most nights.


    "How''s John?" Janet asked Stephen; he had just come back from visiting him at their new medical facility, as he was having his dressings changed.


    "He''s keeping together as well as he can," Stephen told her carefully. "That wound looks tender and sore. He''s been cautioned about letting it be exposed to the environment in case of infection."


    "That''s gotta hurt," Janet replied absently, before re-iterating her question. "But it''s also not what I meant. He''s not himself, and I''m sure you''ve seen it," she insisted, though her voice was soft, her tone careful. "And I don''t think it''s all down to that wicked neck wound either."A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Stephen allowed his head to fall back against the bench, letting out a rather explosive sigh. "I''ve never seen him so down, honey. It''s like he''s mourning the loss of something close to him."


    Janet curled up on the bench and sat back against his shoulder, searching for his hand and tucking it around her stomach. He squeezed her gently, stroking over her shirt, momentarily distracted at the indentations between her abs. "Maybe that''s what he''s missing?"


    Stephen frowned, giving Janet a sideways glance. She frowned at him in puzzlement. "I don''t know," he said eventually. "He''s not one to make attachments and I''m sure he would have said something to us by now if it was someone he had been seeing."


    Janet could not have agreed less. "I''ve been watching what''s gone on for months now," she began slowly. "John''s been seen a lot with one of the more senior security officers in the settlement. They would talk about patrols, her day, his day, often over coffee or while grabbing lunch."


    Stephen shrugged. "Sure, that''s normal for colleagues and friends," he commented.


    "Or that''s normal for two people who are trying to keep something private," Janet retorted, looking out toward the landscape. "You haven''t seen the cues I have, the glances in each others'' direction, the deliberate distance they''d keep in public, the carefully phrased statements, the fact that one would seem to exit a building at least half a minute after the other, as if they didn''t want to be associated together."


    Stephen poked Janet in the ribs, causing her to turn to him, startled, and she almost giggled at the pole-axed expression on his face, his jaw slack, his eyes wide. "They''ve been seeing each other?"


    She nodded, unable to suppress an amused smile. "Right under everyone''s noses," she quipped, then felt her expression relax, as she realized that this was probably what was going on. "Or... They had been seeing each other. I don''t think that''s going on any longer."


    Stephen frowned. "Shit," he said quietly. "Poor guy," he added after a moment. "And he''s said nothing to anyone about it either."


    Janet shook her head. "He''s been down ever since they were both injured and taken to the ship. I think that something happened and one of them broke it off. He''s pretty cut up about it."


    It was strange to talk about John in this fashion, especially as the relationship between herself and Stephen was getting stronger every moment, and had ignited a fire in her that she had long thought dead. There were times even now where she didn''t know if she could keep her hands off of him, and even though there had been some occasions during the throes of passion between them where she had a sudden anxiety or panic attack, he had always handled it with care and patience. Her heart saw fit to burst just remembering the last time it had happened, because although the sense of overwhelming panic at the time felt awful, remembering how they had both dealt with it after the fact made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. It was one of the first times where a trigger for one of her panic attacks had barely made a dent in their night-time activities, something that she could never have thought possible a few months ago.


    Feeling like she was about to melt, she sank deeper into Stephen''s torso, and wriggled in pleasure.


    "What has gotten into you today?" Stephen asked, his face clearly amused.


    Grinning from ear to ear, Janet looked back at him. "Nothing," she said in a playful tone. "Just remembering how sweet you were the other night."


    He kissed the side of her head, squeezing her where he held her waist. "You fancy getting a beer?"


    She leaned forward, surprised. "I thought you wanted me all to yourself tonight," she said playfully, then thought about it a little more. "John?"


    Stephen nodded. "I''m a little worried. I wanna make sure he''s OK."


    A trip to the clinic on the way to get a beer or two sounded like a good idea then, Janet thought. "Let''s do it," she said, standing and stretching her body to work out some of the taut muscles she had felt kink up while they had sat. "I want us back here before the sun sets and we lose the warmth!"


    Stephen gave her a playful wink, and she gave a silent chuckle as she joyfully bounced over toward the door leading to the ground floor.


    <hr>


    Jason had never felt more vulnerable. Sat in a hospital bed with nothing to protect himself with, he felt naked. Being in the clutches of a bunch of thugs intent on causing suffering and excruciating pain for nothing more than to break a person down was an experience he wished on no-one else on the planet.


    He was still angry as well... An anger that had settled deep within, and one borne of a deep seated need to resist attempts at breaking him. It had helped keep him from capitulating to their ridiculous demands, but even he could see that it had changed him, and not necessarily for the better.


    There was a time when he never would have screamed at the top of his lungs at his own sister, as much as she was a typical little kid sister who annoyed their older siblings. He would once have been disgusted and ashamed of himself had that ever happened.


    He was still disgusted and ashamed... But he had done it anyway. Literally screamed at her to get out, and might have thrown something at her if he were strong enough to do it.


    She had changed as well. Jason had no idea how, when or why, but she had become more. She didn''t stay silent, didn''t hang back in the sidelines. Now, she stood up for herself, and for others, and when he had near tore his own throat out screaming at her earlier, she had read him the riot act on how he was being insane and cruel to their father.


    Just thinking about him was like pouring gasoline onto a flame.


    A part of Jason that wanted to hate everyone and everything was screaming about how unfair the world had been, how he had seen too much, had witnessed an alien life-form rip a human''s being to shreds and then co-opt their flesh for its own ends, had been made to feel punishment for defending another, and made to feel like a criminal for getting food to store for later use, and had been tortured by inhuman monsters who were doing it to use him as cannon fodder, had to risk his own family getting captured and tortured to make him capitulate.


    That part of him screamed loudly.


    The part of him that realized he had fucked up badly, that he had no real reason to steal from a settlement where more than enough existed to go around, had no axe to grind with a guy who had been good for their leader, and had beaten the shit out of him because he hadn''t bothered to check his facts first, that part of him was drowned out by the one that wanted to strike back at the world in retaliation for his pain.


    It left him unstable, which just made him more angry.


    He was afraid of what he might do. He was terrified of who he might hurt, and more than that, he was petrified that the next person he hurt would be the very last person who deserved any pain in their lives at all.


    And he could not see any way to deal with the terror that it caused other than to be angry at everything.


    The door opened to his private room in the hospital, and he resisted the temptation to scream at his sister to get out again. Instead, he glowered at the wall as she stepped in to the room, dragged a chair from the other side and set it next to his bed, sitting in it quietly, and sitting down.


    She said nothing.


    Jason frowned, not knowing what was happening, not knowing how to deal with it. He didn''t say anything, because he didn''t want to lose his rag again.


    Still, Leila said nothing. Instead, she pulled out a data tablet and tapped it so the screen came to life. Making herself comfortable, she sat back, and began reading silently.


    How was he supposed to argue against this? She was sat there, seemingly doing her own thing, ignoring him, yet still present. If he started ranting at her to get out, she would probably ask him what he was going on about, since she''d said nothing and was just minding her own business. While he no doubt had a right to be left alone, he would be seen as unreasonable to demand someone leave the room that was otherwise not bothering him.


    He sighed and looked away, not noticing that she was quietly observing him. He was so absorbed in himself, he wasn''t seeing much of anything outside of the misery he was wallowing in. He tried to block it all out, his mind roiling in turmoil, until eventually, exhausted past his brain''s ability to maintain consciousness any longer, he fell into an exhausted slumber.


    While he slept, his sister stood, walked quietly over to his bed, and curled herself into her brother''s side, careful not to dislodge him. She too, slept.

 Chapter 28: Facing the facts

    28


    Facing The Facts


    <hr>


    Davidson stepped through the door into a crowded auditorium that had been hastily erected in the aftermath of the insurgents'' invasion of the Kl''Deesius, a place intended to serve two distinct purposes. One was to provide entertainment functions from a communal perspective, such as holding musical shows, theatrical plays and the occasional pre-recorded production. It seems the entertainment industry of the old world was certain to make a comeback, whether that would be a good thing or a bad thing. Time would one day tell that story.


    The other was to provide a lecture hall educational and briefing venue to keep everyone up to date on the state of human affairs. Those affairs would cover everything from the current state of society, to information briefings on their real enemy, those who were known as possessors.


    It had been discovered through careful examination, that their troubles had all started when the enigmatic figure who called himself ''A'' had made his presence known. Careful questioning, combined with analysis of surveillance data and eyewitness accounts, had revealed that ''A'' was not only responsible for the Kl''Deesius intrusion, the prison break, the tortures, but he had also orchestrated the dissident movement from the very beginning, starting with some very carefully-worded statements to survivors as early as the day they were all picked up in the cargo hold of the Kl''Deesius during the rescue from Earth''s surface. Further examination of the transporter records from the Earth''s surface had revealed a tell-tale possessor influence in the brain stem of the man, but nowhere near enough to suggest he had been directly possessed, which was the only thing the Klankharis Realm was looking for at the time.


    Davidson had suspected that the execution of the attack on the Kl''Deesius and on the guard station protecting the settlement with security forces had to have been carried out by someone far more intelligent, tactically-minded and aware of what was going on than any survivor on Earth could possibly expect to be.


    As a consequence, their security would immediately be tightened, precluding such an individual from ever slipping past their notice again.


    Still, it had caused an awful mess for them all to clean up, including the unintended consequence of Davidson, Helen and Mira all finding out the true origin of the Klankharis people. It caused him a great deal of consternation still, to realize that the entire ISS program was engineered to happen because the donor of the project was from the Tau Ceti system and made sure that the project would be green-lit by any means necessary, including providing a huge influx of cash and possibly influencing technological development on Earth to make it possible.


    Mira was still angry at her own mentor, her predecessor, the man who was now Director of Fleet Intelligence, and a man tasked with keeping such secrets. She expressed it to Davidson once, and though she never mentioned it again, Davidson could tell it affected her trust of her own people badly.


    Still, she would persevere, and he had complete trust in her. He continued to reassure her of his trust, his faith, his dedication, on a frequent basis as she expressed insecurity over his trust in her, and slowly, she began to accept that he was not just humoring her. While she would remain angry at those who had kept the secret from her, she and Davidson somehow had become even closer to each other.


    That secret of theirs would be one mess that would remain for a long time, Davidson realized sadly. Maybe one day, the people of both worlds would be able to accept the truth of the matter, but not for a long time yet, possibly not in his lifetime.


    The first step toward cleaning up the remaining mess was to hold a briefing, complete with sworn testimonials from survivors who had directly witnessed a possession, as well as video footage and telemetry from any ships in the area at the time a possession took place. Every human being in the settlement would now be told exactly how dangerous these Possessors were, and ''A'' would be held as a warning of what can happen when people become complacent.


    So, as he stepped in, he nodded to Mira, took a seat next to her at the head of the lecture area, and announced the purpose of their meeting that day.


    <hr>


    Over the next four weeks, there would be further changes happening in the settlement. More residential units had been converted to allow for roof balconies, giving the residents more privacy. Reports had come in from Earth''s terraforming project, and while the atmosphere was undergoing cleaning ahead of schedule, it would still likely be three years before the surface was habitable and the humans could return to the planet. As a consequence, the settlement was given the green light to expand, to allow more residential units, more space for people to live in, and more privacy. They would still be pre-fab units, but no-one would need to live in shared accommodation if they did not wish it.


    The daily briefings had slowly started to achieve the objectives that were intended, that being to inform the settlers of their real mission, and to calm resentment and prevent any rioting. Eventually, this would lead to reform of government policy, rescinding of rigid milityary law, and the introduction of increased freedoms for citizens.


    A military recruitment policy was drafted, and would shortly go into effect. Davidson and Miradima had planned everything carefully, and the beginnings of what would eventually be called EarthFleet had been drawn up. There would be a two-tiered division. The first would be the soldiery, the equivalent of the US marines or the Royal Marines of the UK back on Earth. Their rank structure would be similar, but not entirely the same as either of those organizations, but something entirely suited to the task of maintaining an armed services presence in concert with a specialist and technician presence within the Earth''s dedicated space fleet.


    They would be known as the Officer Division, dedicated to providing commissioned personnel for space operations on ships. Commissioned officer ranks equivalent to those in the various navies on Earth, would be the mainstay of the EarthFleet Officer Corps, and everything from Junior Lieutenant to Admiral-Of-The-Fleet would exist under this umbrella.


    Soldiery provided working personnel for the ships and soldiers for boarding actions and planetary operations, while Officer Division provided specialized officers for shipboard operation and command-level functioning. It would of course be expected that a Soldiery level Sergeant-Major would accord the same respect as a Commander in charge of a ship, even if the Commander technically held a much higher rank (and a Junior Lieutenant was also a ranking officer).


    It was not an intuitive command structure, Davidson realized, but it was the one he knew best, and so it had survived to become the mainstay of Earth''s continued presence in galactic society.


    Today was a day declared as a public day of rest. Much had been accomplished, and now was the time to relax and try to enjoy their new lives. No doubt there would be some who abstained from any festivities, either through ill health or because they did not wish to join, but Davidson was hopeful, as was most of the leadership, that most would want to let themselves relax for a while.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    <hr>


    Mephicia stood alone, in her quarters aboard the Kl''Deesius. These had been her living quarters for nearly five years, and she had never simply stopped to examine the living space she occupied. There was always something to do, people to report to, or some minor crisis that required her attention somewhere on the ship, on the surface, or somewhere throughout the Realm.


    Today was different. A day of rest had been declared on the settlement below, and every human was invited to take part. While Mephicia had insisted on working security aboard the ship during this time, the Fleet Commander had sternly told her that there was more than enough security on board the ship, that there were enough security at the settlement, that she had spent enough time working almost non-stop since the Kl''Deesius incident that she had accumulated several days of additional leave, and then sternly reminded her that she was being given an order to take the next few days off, and not to report back for duty within the next seventy-two hours or facean official reprimand in her military record.


    This left her with time on her hands.


    Time to dwell on subjects she had tried to keep her mind away from.


    As she worked to clean up her quarters (which were already spotless as per rules), her mind wandered to events over the last months. Cleaning helped her expend energy that she might otherwise have kept stored for nervousness and a touch of anxiety, the kind of emotional responses that a security officer could not afford to have creep up on them at a critical time in their work.


    Once she had finished making sure everything was in order with her living space, she found herself once again at a loose end for something to do, so she grabbed a spare uniform and headed for the sanitation hall.


    The sanitation hall was a place on board any ship or in any guard house that was dedicated to keeping people clean. Unlike Earth based water cleaning techniques like bathing and showers, sanitation houses worked using subsonic frequencies to literally vibrate foreign compounds off of a person''s skin. It often left a person tingling, but it also left them cleansed in a way no mere body wash could.


    She stripped out of her current uniform and immediately set the sanitation unit to its task, standing with her arms and legs apart so that the frequencies could have the desired effect on her skin. As the accumulation of dirt from outside sources and the shedding of skin over the course of the day was sloughed off of the skin by the subsonic waves emanating from all three surrounding walls, Mephicia turned to ensure that all side of her were covered. As the foreign particles drifted off of her and down toward the floor, gravitic vacuum units sucked the matter out of the area and into a matter processing facility somewhere else on the ship. Mephicia lifted both of her feet to ensure the undersides of them were cleansed as well, then she repeated the procedure between her toes, and finally, splayed her fingers and thumbs to ensure those had been reached as well.


    Finally, after a few minutes, her body felt cleansed, and she stepped away from the unit, ignoring it as it automatically switched itself off. She stepped toward her uniform, grabbing her dress slacks and underwear, and started to dress... Then she caught herself in the mirror.


    She must have done this dozens of times since the day of the stabbing she had been forced to endure, but she had always been too busy to stop to think about it. Now, she didn''t have that excuse.


    She rubbed her fingers gently over the still sensitive scar tissue that raked down across the center-right muscle tissue of her chest, where muscle had been torn, where fat had been cut out so that medics could get to her lung tissue and fix the damage that was there. No doubt existed in her mind, this was disfiguring to her. She had never been a particularly vain person, caring little about appearances next to her accomplishments as a military officer in the Realm''s Fleet Arm, and yet seeing a dent in her breast tissue was jarring to her. It made her feel...


    Less, somehow.


    It was never a question of what someone else may think if they ever saw such a thing. She was a career security officer, and one who would have been happy not indulging in any of the routine pleasures that others often indulged in. That wasn''t to say she was immune to them. After all, she was only natural, like any other red-blooded person among her people. No, she chose to abstain because she had a great deal of self-control, and because there were other ways to ease the instincts and keep them in check.


    Seeing herself like this though, was strange. She had gotten used to the fact that her body was a carefully-maintained, well-toned extension of her will and her desire to be an effective combatant. Sculpted, defined in sharp relief, her musculature rivalling that of any Earth woman.


    She traced her fingers over the ugly scar tissue. It looked worse than it was, but it still gave Mephicia pause to realize that this would be a complication to have to explain to anyone she might see that ever saw her without any clothing on, and while she intellectually understood it was her business alone, there was still a part of her that felt a repulsiveness she was sure others would share.


    She took a deep breath and sighed. This wasn''t helpful, and would bring her mood down even further. It also wasn''t the real problem for her. As she continued to dress, she thought more on what was really bothering her.


    No, she realized. The problem was John.


    She had fond memories of their time together since the rescue from the lunar complex that they had retrieved the survivors from, and what had started out as an exercise in cooperation and learning between the two, soon developed entirely on its own. Mephicia had never intended to get involved with the man, let alone to the extent that she did, because while they had kept their visits cordial and light, and their intimate relations strictly limited to avoid alerting anyone''s attention, she did not take the same precautions with her own feelings.


    The problem was that she had allowed the two of them to become too attached to each other. The problem was that something bad happening to either one of them would cause the other person to experience an anguish that would be excruciating.


    Her solution was to put a stop to it, only she had realized almost as soon as she had told him they couldn''t see each other any longer, it was no solution at all.


    It was denial.


    He had hurt her greatly, without meaning to, when he forced her to confront the reality that they were facing, that no matter how much they tried to stay away from each other for the other person''s sake, it would not make it any less painful for them if one was to get hurt again.


    It wasn''t fair, she had understood, but it was completely correct.


    The problem now was how do they deal with this from here?


    Mephicia had not been ready to admit to herself that she had been completely wrong about the situation. Even the day before, she would have recoiled in denial at the fact that she would be just as broken if John were hurt tomorrow as she would be if they had decided to continue seeing each other.


    And whereas yesterday, her thoughts had been occupied with how it was necessary to keep her distance from him... His easy-going attitude to inter-personal relationships, his ability to defuse a situation, his ever-so-slight hot-headed temper that sometimes got the best of him, his anecdotes...


    His easy-going smile... That she hadn''t seen in weeks...


    His respectful distancing to give her time to...


    Stupid fool!


    Her thoughts were suddenly racing furiously through her mind at how she had wasted so much time that they could have been giving themselves the mutual support they needed, that they could have been healing together, that they could have been-


    "Stupid!" she berated herself, surprised at her own unexpected outburst.


    She had found herself back in her own quarters as she had gone over these thoughts in her mind.


    Mephicia had found herself in total, rigid control of her own mind as she went about her life for most of the time she had been an adult. Now, she felt herself shake and tremble as her body flooded with anxiety at what she was about to do, but ruthlessly she suppressed the feeling, even if she couldn''t completely eliminate the trembles, shucked out of her uniform, and quickly dressed in a loose flowing festivity dress that was appropriate for a day such as this one.


    For the first time in her life, she found herself running toward the transport room when there wasn''t an active emergency, and ordered an immediate transportation to the settlement.


    It was time to face facts, she told herself. It was time to face John.

 Chapter 29: What we bring with us

    29


    What We Bring With Us


    <hr>


    The sun was rising over the Midinia settlement as people began to gather for a day of relaxation. It started with a small trickle of visitors to a wide-open park area just in front of the auditorium space that had been commissioned weeks earlier, and as the day progressed, crowds began to congregate.


    Tau Cetian musicians were the first to set the stage for the evening''s festivities, playing a medley of tunes from all over the musical scape. All of them were new to human ears, with the exception of a very small group of people, and the themes ranged from haunting ambience to some fast jolly numbers intended to encourage joviality and dancing.


    Even for people like Stephen and the others, the technical ability of the musicians was amazing to behold, and Stephen had seen televised performances of some of Earth''s finest modern-day composers and orchestral arrangements, had heard some of the most proficient orchestras and their work in modern feature-films that he had watched before the world changed. These musicians playing for an insignificant human settlement at a backwater within the massive Klankharis Realm were masters of their craft, and Stephen could feel the emotions that their music invoked. He and Janet had their first dance that day, the first of many, and he found joy in sharing such a carefree experience with her after the life she had endured before they had encountered each other. As a slower number played from the excellent repertoire, Janet held him tight, breathed words of adoration in his ear, and swayed gently in time to the slow melody as it played. The same scene played out for many couples across the park space at that moment, as relationships, both new and long-standing, were cemented with the evocative sounds of an orchestra whose music was intended to engender feelings of intimacy and closeness.


    John sat at the edge of the field as this went on, feeling both gratified and saddened at this scene. He saw Stephen with Janet, saw how they were so connected to one another, their gestures so simple, so innocuous, so intimate. John never harbored jealousy for anyone in their position, nor did he feel any particular feeling of envy, not throughout his life.


    Not even now.


    He was a little lonely, if he were being honest with himself. It had been weeks since he had any kind of intimacy with Phee, and he had troublenot thinking about her, despite his best efforts. It was a unique experience for him, a man who always kept his distance from others due to the nature of his work with NASA, before the collapse of Earth''s previous societies, to become attached to anyone. It was inconvenient. It was frustrating.


    It was also amazing, uplifting, wonderfully blissful, while it lasted.


    This of course, was the problem. It didn''t last, and while John knew from a rational perspective that he had to set it aside and move forward with his life, he simply didn''t want to. He wanted to return to the sweet comfort of sharing his innermost thoughts and dreams with another, someone who shared themselves with him, body and mind, in the hazy atmosphere of pleasure and happiness that he had found with someone like Phee.


    No¡­ Not like Phee¡­ Phee herself, and no-one else.


    He had run the full gamut of emotions in recent weeks, vacillating from longing to frustration, to denial in that he refused to accept he was feeling lonely, and finally to longing again. The whole cycle repeated itself a few times, and instead of easing up like sometimes happens to some people, John found that if anything, it was getting more painful, more difficult, to be away from her. It might have been their circumstances. After all, it wasn''t like she had betrayed his trust or decided she didn''t like him any longer, so there was no resentment against her to curb his emotional attachment to her. The reason she had initially given was that she wanted to spare him any pain if anything were to happen to her.


    Intellectually, he knew back then, it was nothing more than specious reasoning, even if she genuinely believed she was doing to for the right reasons. Emotionally, deep within his core, he now understood fully that it was far more wrong than he ever could have imagined.


    It would break his heart if anything happened to her, no matter how long they had apart from each other.


    She had told him back in the medical bay that she needed time to consider what he had said to her, and he had tried to give her that time, not bringing it, or them, up in conversation since, but it was so very hard to keep quiet about it, especially as the only thing he wanted to do was to tell her how he felt about her, about them, about everything. He knew it would be wrong, that she had to come to terms with this in her own way, and he had far too much respect for her to try and force the issue in any way whatsoever-


    "John," a soft, feminine voice called out to him, causing his heart to pound in his chest. He looked up, startled, a confusing maelstrom of feelings surfacing as he lay eyes on the well-defined and taut muscles of her Amazonian physique with her dark hair tied back behind her head, wearing a loose-fitting wraparound dress, her flawless complexion a sight to behold even as she maintained a stoically-blank expression.


    "Phee?" John''s voice was barely above a whisper.


    "We need to talk," she said, stepping in front of him, giving nothing away in the casual stance she stood in. "Do you have somewhere quiet we can go?"


    John rapidly thought about his options. His accommodations were out. That wouldn''t be proper at the moment. He knew nowhere that was guaranteed to be unoccupied within the settlement grounds, and discussing anything out in the open was out of the question given the possible directions their conversation could go in next. "Follow me," he quickly told her, then set off in the direction of the auditorium where the band continued to play. There was an ante-room where everyone set up prior to going on to the auditoriums raised podium, whether it be for lectures or for entertainment, and John was willing to bet it wasn''t currently in use, so he headed there to see if they could get some privacy.


    Thankfully, the room was empty when he got to it, and both of them entered immediately, saying nothing in the meantime, until John closed the door, leaning against it and trying to collect himself. This moment was going to either cause his heart to soar, or would leave him picking up the pieces from the floor, and it was terrifying for him, so he needed a moment.


    After taking a couple of deep breaths, he raised his head, and turned to face Phee. She stood there, giving nothing away, almost completely unreadable, but something appeared to smoulder behind her eyes.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "I''ve been trying to build myself up to this point for some time, so I need you to listen, and not try to stop me speaking for the next few minutes unless I ask you a question," Phee told him, her voice carefully controlled, as if she didn''t trust herself to relax at this moment. "Can you accept that?"


    John swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding rapidly, saying nothing. His heart was racing, and he felt nauseated.


    "I''ve had time to think about what you told me before," she began, her words almost rehearsed. "What we were doing before, the casual relationship we''ve been having, it can''t go on."


    John felt like he were about to pass out, and it took a supreme effort to exert the will to both remain on his feet and keep his mouth closed and prevent the protest he so desperately wanted to make.


    Phee was not finished, however, and her body language seemed almost defensive at this point. "It can''t. It can''t!" she insisted as though expecting him to interrupt. John kept his mouth closed. "What we had before, it was fun, it really was, and it was great, relaxing, exciting..." Phee took a breath, her body appearing to tremble ever-so-slightly, but she pressed ahead. "But that''s not enough for me any longer."


    Hope seared its way into John''s psyche as he realized. She wasn''t telling him it was over between them both, she was asking for more. He could just kiss her right then, but an instinct within him kept him at a distance, though he now felt giddy with relief.


    "How I feel about you now makes it impossible for me to pretend all we''re doing is having a little fun. You were right, John. You were so very right," her voice choked off for a moment, but she forced herself to continue, John seeing the struggle within her to say what she needed to say. "So I need to know," she continued, not appearing to notice the change within him. "Will you commit to a true connection, a bonding ceremony, the unification of our two selves, to stop hiding ourselves and the connection we have for each other from others? I need to know, because if you won''t, I need to put an end to this before I get any more-"


    John silenced her at that point by stepping forward. "Phee," he said to her in the softest, most gentle voice he could muster, taking her hands in his, squeezing them to get her attention. She was so wrapped up in the idea that he might reject a true, meaningful relationship of the sort that Stephen and Janet clearly had, completely oblivious to the relief that John was experiencing that Phee wanted him to be such a major part of her life. "I came into this room thinking you were going to tell me you never wanted us to be together, that you were going to shatter my heart to pieces," he told her, causing her to frown, perplexed. "Had I known you were really going to ask for a deeper connection between us, I wouldn''t have wallowed in misery these last weeks."


    The change was immediate. The rigid self-control dropped, and Phee rushed to grab a hold of his face, pulling it gently to her, and resting her forehead against his own. Her body relaxed, and John now saw the tension she must have been holding in leech out of her as she visibly relaxed by so many degrees he was surprised she didn''t snap in half on her way here. Taking a hold of both hands, he squeezed them gently, allowing the warmth, the relief, the love he felt, to wash over him like a wave of clear water. She pulled her hands free, wrapping her strong arms around him, squeezing against him so tightly, he could feel the rock hard muscles of her abdomen and the soft swell of her breasts against him, and the steel embrace of her arms around his back. The sigh she released at that point ended on a slight whine which she quickly muffled, determined to keep some semblance of self-control even now, John thought with amusement.


    With a sudden jerk, she pulled back, favouring her right breast and trying to cover it. John immediately suspected it was her injury, and she was being self-conscious, so he grabbed her hand gently and started to tug it toward him again.


    "It''s unsightly, John," she told him in a guarded voice. "You might not want-"


    "I don''t care," John told her with a gentle yet oddly curt response. "You''re still beautiful to me, don''t ever doubt it," he gently traced his hands over the part of her dress where he knew the scar was likely to be, feeling the indentation as he did, watching her face, her slight apprehension, the fear in her eyes that he might reject her. He gently drew her own hand to his neck, encouraging her to trace her fingers along the unsightly and sensitive scar tissue that was there, never taking his eyes off of her, until at last, he saw acceptance, relief, and a deep appreciation. Her eyes began to water, and she quickly buried her head in his shoulder, squeezing him tight as she struggled to regain her composure. In turn, he stroked her hair gently, her shoulders relaxing as she allowed herself to relax into him.


    At last, she pulled back to look at his face, her own radiating intense joy intermingled with a fierce longing that surprised him. She really had lowered some walls, John realized. "When you and I were on the ship, I was terrified of what would happen to you if you were badly injured or worse. It was frightening to think I had invested so much of myself into your well-being, so I tried to distance us, telling myself that if we weren''t close, you wouldn''t have to feel the terror I felt at losing you if anything ever happened to me... But you were so right, and I feel it now, deep down. I tried to pretend the last few months that what we had was nothing, that it was just two friends enjoying a few moments of stolen intimacy and easing a difficult set of circumstances. It took being apart from you all this time to realize that I couldn''t keep pretending we were just enjoying some physical pleasures and nothing else. There has to be more, there needed to be a reason why my emotions were so invested in you, in us..." she stopped, frowning at him. "And you didn''t answer me!"


    John raised his hands, as if fending off blows, and one of her eyebrows shot up. At first, he was going to play it cool. "I didn''t? Oh, well... Let me think about- HEY!" He suddenly called out, ducking as Phee threw a playful slap at his head. "You''re so mean, hitting a guy with an injured neck!" Though he was joking, he did notice that his neck was still tender and stung a little as his shenanigans pulled at the scar tissue a bit.


    Phee made a non-committal noise in her throat as she frowned at him, lips pursed. John kissed them, softening them slightly, before pulling back so he could look her in the face.


    "All kidding aside Phee," John said, his tone sobering up, giving her what he hoped was an earnest, reassuring gaze. "The way I feel about you is so far beyond anything I''ve ever experienced, nothing less than to spend the rest of my life at your side is good enough for me. I''m yours, Phee. I always will be."


    She wrapped her arms around him again, pulling his head to the side of her face, kissing his cheek with such fervor that he lost himself in the moment. He breathed deeply, inhaling the floral scent she wore, burying his face in her neck as she squeezed him tighter still, and they remained that way for several minutes.


    When at last, they stood apart, John gave a wry smile. "Yes, I''ll join you in a union of our two selves!"


    Her slow smile was all he needed to see. "Good, then we''re walking out of this room together. No more pretending."


    "I hope this means we can spend more time alone with each other than we were doing before," John smirked, laughing wickedly as Phee poked him in the ribs. "What? You''re an exceptionally attractive woman!"


    "Actually, I have been holding back before," she admitted, blushing slightly. The fact that someone so tall, strong and poised could blush was adorable to John. "Now come on, let''s step out there as a couple and let everyone know!"


    Stepping out of the ante-room and into the auditorium area, holding each other''s hands as they stepped through the increasingly crowded field to where Stephen and Janet last danced, John and Phee basked in each other''s presence. As they both came to a stop nearby, Phee pulled John against her well-muscled side and wrapped an arm around his waist, her head leaning against his shoulder. Not long after that, the music changed to a slower melody that encouraged intimacy, and both John and Phee took full advantage, facing each other, heads resting against each other, before engaging in what John thought was the hottest make-out session ever. Both of them were far too involved to see either Janet''s amused surprise nor Stephen''s easy smile as they both witnessed their friend reconnect with someone he so obviously loved deeply, even if he had yet to tell her in no uncertain words.

 Epilogue

    Epilogue


    <hr>


    Two years later, Day 1, Year 1 of the Alliance (Alliance Date 1.001)


    In the intervening two years since the John and Phee both declared themselves as unified, much has changed. Helen gave birth to her baby girl two months after, about 670 days before the Alliance Calendar was officially drawn up. It was a bittersweet moment, bringing the daughter of the man she loved into the world after her father had perished, and having to raise her alone...


    Only she didn''t.


    Everyone pitched in to help out. Edward found himself being a fountain of useful anecdotes and was useful as a man who pulled funny faces for the bubbling infant. Janet and Stephen found that they were enjoying having a young person so healthy in their midst, so happy and joyful at times, even though they were both relieved to hand her back over to her mother at the end of the day. John took great pleasure in inviting all of his friends to sit and eat with him and Phee on a regular basis, and even Leila happily played the big kid sister to the youngster.


    Jason was slowly coming to terms with what happened, although progress for him was slow because there were no trained psychological experts and he was a wilful and difficult patient. Slowly, he mended his relationship with his sister, and while he still didn''t get along particularly well with his father, the incident had taught them both a respect that hadn''t existed before. Jason no longer sought to push any boundaries, although he refused to let anyone push him around either.


    To everyone''s astonishment, it became clear after a year, that Jason was not interested in women, but men. No-one really noticed, because he had kept himself away from everyone as he dealt with his trauma, but one day, he had been caught by John as he engaged in an intimate tryst with another of the young men in the settlement. John surprised Jason by being understanding and supportive, even though Jason''s initial reaction was mortification and defensive retaliation. The young man in question didn''t stay around for long, but the knowledge of Jason''s preferences made its'' way around their core group, where it stayed strictly among them. If Jason wanted others to know, he would discuss it himself.


    His father had made that clear, which was the major reason hostilities between the pair had ended. It was a hopeful crossroads for them both.


    No-one was really sure what Jason would do with his life yet. There was still time.


    Practically everyone who had entered into a relationship or unified with others had moved in and joined their allocation of residential space. John and Phee were the first, with Stephen and Janet closely following them. Davidson and Miradima took up permanent residence on the Tau Cetian home-world, though they maintained a residence aboard the Kl''Deesius, and Helen found herself living near John''s own place, her and her child.


    Earth''s terraforming project had borne fruit. While it was still going to take time to seed the land with the necessary flora and fauna for the ecosystem to operate entirely by itself, the air was breathable, and settlement of the surface was slated to begin in the next few months. This was not the only project to reach fruition, as the final assembly pieces supporting Earth''s first ship, the Sol, were cast off into space for recovery by the construction platform at a later date.


    While the Sol was primarily a low-tiered defensive vessel intended for deployment across the Sol system, it was equipped with on-board fabrication facilities to make pre-fab space-borne parts. The ship therefore would be instrumental in building the next space dock for the next scheduled spacecraft, the Mars. It would be built directly above Mars stationary orbit above Olympus Mons, and would eventually result in a dedicated construction vessel whose purpose would be to help build future ships far more quickly.


    The plan was to have a full manufactory facility around Mars within the next decade, followed by plans to deploy another one at the edge of the system in the decade following that. Each one would be able to deploy a frigate-sized vessel at least once every two years without rushing production or cutting corners, and the intention was to construct a heavy capital-class assembly dock somewhere in the system within the next thirty years. A new space station for transfers from Earth to vessels in space was planned, and a name had even been picked out already. Marlon Greenfield would have his name emblazoned on the side of the space station as a dedication, and while the station would remain a major hub for transit to and from various space craft, it would have everything aboard from leisure facilities to conference rooms, manufactories to vessel outfitting docks, military berths and scientific research stations. Its construction would depend on the completion of the Mars, and so nothing other than a permanently-placed navigation beacon in Earth orbit currently existed.


    The regular briefing sessions at the auditorium on the garden world had borne success. While initially skeptical, the population eventually realized the need to prepare themselves for what was to come in the future, and that everyone was playing a long game. It didn''t hurt that in the two years since being rescued from Earth, everyone''s own individual situation had drastically improved beyond anything they dreamed. Restrictions had been eased as everyone settled into a new way of life, and privacy protections began to make their way into the rule books. A legal system grew from the ashes of the old court-martial system adapted for simultaneous civilian and military use, and the rule of law became the standard by which their society operated, as opposed to the tribalism that Earth had descended to while the Tau Ceti crew were away on their mission.


    EarthFleet was officially enacted as a governing entity and as a military force three hundred days ago, with the first military orders cut for General Davidson, holding a position that would not exist upon his eventual retirement. The overall commander-in-chief of the military would be the Admiral-Of-The-Fleet, a position that would not be filled for some years as people were vetted, recruited and trained into the fleet. For the time being, training officers were recruited from the ranks of the Klankharis Fleet Arm, the military division of the Realm, and would eventually be phased out as competent, trustworthy officers were able to take their positions and release the KFA officers back to their own military.


    Today was the day the Treaty of the Alliance would be ratified. Over the past several months, candidates had been selected from the survivors and from the Tau Ceti crew to take positions of leadership in the new government, and elections were held by direct vote. The controls for the process were strict. Candidates were permitted to outline their plans, they were expected to be clear and honest about their plans for their roles, and no forms of bribery were permitted, including "campaign contributions", a scathing euphemism that Stephen, John and Davidson had all remembered from their time on Earth before the old world fell. The positions were voted in, with Janet gaining a clear win against two others who had run for the position of Civilian Governor (a position equivalent to a President), an advisory team consisting of Stephen, Edward and several members of the Earth population from all manner of places around the world, and since there was only one region at the present, no regional governor was selected to run that year.


    Elections would take place every five years, with a three-term limit, more than long enough for one person''s career.


    Judges were selected based on merit, not vote, and they were regularly rotated to ensure none would become stagnant in their positions. Each held equal positions within the hierarchy, and none operated outside their carefully-defined area of expertise, which in the early days of the new world, was rudimentary.


    Nonetheless, all of these systems were going to be expanded, clarified, built upon, and refined over the next several decades, all toward an end of gearing the people of Earth for an all-out war against the Possessor enemy. Davidson was certain, as was Miradima and every Klankharis citizen they ever spoke with, that the Possessor threat was not only malignant, persistent and dire, but they would not now be complacent. They would seek to expand their own power and abilities, and there was a very real chance that they had managed to steal some technology or knowledge through the recent insurgency they had engineered.


    Today was to be a good day, however. The official signing of the treaty would take place between Janet Fletcher as leader of the Earth people, and Prime Hendirim as leader of the Klankharis Realm.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Helen was present, as was John, Stephen, Janet, Edward, and Security Officer Mephicia in her official capacity as Security Commander, a position she had been promoted to in recent months. Leila stayed with Jason, Davidson and Miradima had their respective duties to take care of, and so Helen had been forced to bring young Marlena with her to this event. She was with a team of creche supervisors in an ante-room off of the conference room so that they could work peacefully.


    As they all filed into the signing ceremony room on Tau Ceti 3, the home-world of the Klankharis Realm, Stephen got a good look for the first time at the styling of the Tau Cetian people''s highest office. It looked like a highly-polished granite substance, a glossy sheen to the walls and ceiling that reflected soft yellow lighting wherever it existed. Dark green drapes emblazoned with a gold relief of the Klankharis Realm''s official seal sat from high portals that undoubtedly led to interior rooms, and a tiled marble floor that looked like it could have been cast from a marble quarry somewhere in Egypt. Curiously, the styling of the roof traveled up in a pyramid construction, stepped at regular intervals and supported by columns of granite embedded with some form of metallic alloy. It looked solidly built, and put Stephen and the others in mind of Egyptian pyramids, except for the modern technology permeating the space.


    As the last of the people filed in to the room, chairs materialized in a yellow flash of light, and a conference table rose up from the floor. While this seemed awful flashy for someone like Stephen, none of the Tau Cetians present looked particularly smug about it.


    Perhaps this was an everyday occurrence among their people in official spaces across the Realm.


    John was certainly enjoying the visit, having noted with some enthusiasm, the bustling activity of the city itself, with people going about their daily lives, pollution-free vehicles flitting about from one location to another via the air, and open air markets, vendors and entertainment facilities were commonplace. Amusingly, some of the people were going about their business and hated being interrupted in their progress by any visitors. Clearly not an orchestrated scene in John''s view.


    Amused by these thoughts, he looked back to where Phee was standing her post as security officer for this event. She looked incredibly uncomfortable, green in the face even, causing John to frown in concern, but she didn''t acknowledge his presence, something that was decidedly odd. He nudged Helen next to him, who took a quick look, then stood out of her seat and strode quickly to stand with her, their conversation low and unintelligible to John.


    There was a quick look of startlement, then Helen grabbed her portable med kit, took out a scanner and waved it over Phee''s torso. Immediately after reading the device, she put it back, and in what John considered somewhat relaxed movements, applied an injector to Phee''s neck, who continued to look green for a few more seconds before the color returned to her face and she breathed a sigh of relief.


    Only then did she notice John was staring at her, and she gave a slight smile before resuming her neutral stance and stared straight ahead.


    Helen stepped quickly back to her seat next to John.


    "What was that about?" he asked quickly.


    "I had to give her an anti-emetic," she told him in a low voice. "She''s fine, just a little queasy."


    John frowned. Did she get some kind of infection? "Any idea what the verdict is, Doc?"


    Helen shook her head, seeming to suppress a smile. "You''d best discuss it with her when you''re both free."


    John was sure to have an interesting conversation in the near future, he realized, but kept his remark to himself. He really hoped Phee wasn''t ill.


    Everyone was called to order as Prime Hendirim stepped into the office, surrounded by an entourage of security officers. He confidently strode to the conference table and stepped besides Janet, as his entourage began their own tasks of securing the facility. The operation was a show of precise security checks and clockwork timing.


    The ceremony itself was blissfully short, as both made remarks about the future of the Alliance, and Janet made a good impression on the assembled as she recited her own speech, signing the treaty once she had finished.


    With all of that taken care of, everyone filed out to the adjoining chamber to break off into their own discussion groups, Stephen, Helen, John, Janet and Edward congregating near a bar top, ordering a round of beverages. Helen looked about her to see who else was congregating, and a group of Tau Cetian security officers all took seats around empty tables, chatting amiably about their day and what they had planned for the night. As she was about to turn to her own group, she caught Mephicia speaking quickly to a security officer as she tugged on a loose-fitting jacket, saluted him, and then turned around to walk toward her own group. Helen gave Mephicia a knowing grin as she stepped to her side, gently squeezing John''s shoulder to get his attention, kissing the side of his face in the process and whispering in his ear. Helen almost snorted at the perplexed look on his face as he was slowly walked to one side of the group where they could speak privately, and she wasn''t surprised to see them both hugging each other tightly afterward, John lifting Mephicia off of the floor and twirling her around.


    Obviously, she had given him the good news, Helen thought, and then sadly remembered the first time she had told Marlon about her own pregnancy, how he had almost barrelled into her from the other side of the Tau Ceti''s medical bay in joy, and they''d squeezed each other joyously as they both basked in the news that they would be having a child of their own.


    Hopefully, John would still be around when his own child came into being, Helen thought to herself fondly, wishing them both an easy time of it.


    Stephen was sat with Janet, who was talking animatedly about the signing of the Alliance Treaty and what it meant for the future of their people. He thought back to that day in the lunar complex, where she had been so lost, unsure of herself, fraught with tension at not having a place within their new society, and smiled. Now, she was practically running the show. She had proven herself over the last few years, that she could manage more than just a shelter of three thousand people, and while the population of Earth only numbered a hundred thousand, their new measures were intended to balloon that population as quickly as possible, offering all manner of incentives for responsible parenting and contributing to growing the human population of Earth. Stephen realized with sadness that Janet would never be able to contribute herself, even had she wanted to, because of injuries she had sustained years before they ever met. Still, the news had devastated her for a time, and no doubt would cause her heartache any time she were reminded of it, like she was being reminded right now as John came bounding over to share the joyful news that he was going to be a father.


    Stephen was far too slow to intercept him, and as he blurted out the news to everyone around the table, Mephicia looked embarrassed, Helen looked apprehensive, and for a second, Janet looked crestfallen. Then, to Stephen''s immense surprise, she gave John a tight hug, congratulating him, before stepping quickly to Mephicia''s side and congratulating her in turn, squeezing the powerfully-built Tau Cetian woman tightly around her back. This caused a stir among the others as both Janet and Mephicia burst into tears, astonishing everyone. It seemed that Mephicia''s legendary self-control wasn''t so absolute after all, but as Stephen looked over to John, he clapped Stephen on the shoulder, his expression both joyful and apologetic.


    "Sorry," he told Stephen. "I should''a thought that one through."


    Stephen gripped his hand gently, giving it a squeeze, as they both looked back to their respective partners. By that time, both had pulled themselves together, and stepped apart, dashing their eyes and laughing giddily. Janet bounded happily back over to Stephen, pulling him over to kiss him gently on the lips.


    "You worry too much," she told him, her voice breaking in what Stephen could only guess were happy sobs. "They''re going to be great!"


    Stephen was happy for his friend, but he was worried that this would be a painful experience for Janet. "I just wish he''d acted with a little more tact," he told her quietly. "He knows better."


    An enthusiastic kiss on the lips. "Shut up, I love you!" she cried out, and he wasn''t about to complain about that! "One day we''ll adopt, and we''ll love our kid like she were our own."


    "She?" Stephen gave a wry grin. "You''ve already decided on a girl?"


    "Maybe?" Janet said, a coy, playful smile on her lips. "I hope you know I wanna keep practising making one with you!"


    The gleam in her eye was wicked, and Stephen laughed as he squeezed her tight. "Lots of practice,¡± he said almost casually, giving her butt a squeeze briefly, causing her to growl playfully in his ear. ¡°She''ll have a great life with us," he added, his tone turning serious at that moment as she pulled back and gave him an easy smile. "We''ll make sure of that."


    "We will," Janet''s voice was solemn as she squeezed Stephen tightly.


    <hr>


    Over the next several decades, society would progress as technology developed on Earth, the population was slowly rebuilt, and the mantle was passed on to their descendants. Stephen and Janet''s legacy was to build a society that would endure the coming challenges, Davidson and Miradima''s to set the stager for their respective militaries, their own children would become critical parts of the Alliance, and John and Mephicia would go on to have a large family of their own, all playing varied roles in the upcoming war. The Mensar family would continue to have descendants, and others, people who have been relatively unknown in the course of recent events, would go on to have descendants of their own who would all be critical to humanity''s success.


    The enemy would return just shy of a hundred years from this auspicious day, and they would surprise the Alliance, but the Alliance, over the course of time would prevail.


    That, however, is another story.