Chapter Text
~Connection Established
Radio 8: “Radio 8 to Tower 1, Radio 8 to Tower 1, come back.”
Tower 1: “Tower 1 to Radio 8, we are receiving."
Radio 8: “You know, I could really go for a candy bar.”
Tower 1: “Crunch bar on the way. Good to hear from you again Lex. What can I do for ya?”
Radio 8: “Same to you Jess. Ship is doing a cargo run to Eclipsa and we don't have enough rations to do a direct jump. Since we are operating under detection avoidance we need 4 days to spool the drive. So, I need a resupply within 3 jumps of our current cords, just sent them.”
Tower 1: “Three jumps? Stars, what is your captain thinking? I mean for starters, Eclipsa is cut off from most places by Compact space. Only three smuggling routes even make it into the planet any more and that's if we are lucky. Let me check.”
Silence for several beats. I look up at the ceiling of my radio pod counting the little blinking lights. I know there are 348 of them, but it's good to double check.
Tower 1: “Ok it looks like you are within 3 jumps of four possible resupply points. Triton Station, Mertha Bay mining colony, Prista Vista, and Cordelia Station.
Radio 8: “Nix Cordelia, TCN back channels relay that it was raided by the plants two days ago. Also, PV is super out of the way, it would add another jump to get us to Eclipsa.”
Tower 1: “Well, that leaves you two options. Triton station is probably your best bet, resupply quick and get out of there. Mertha Bay would be a good choice if you have any repairs, though we haven't received radio signal from them in 2 months, so it may not be safe.”
Radio 8: “That's Griggs’ mine right? He's a bone head and probably broke his transmitter. TCN chatter hasn't listed it as compromised so I think it's still viable. Let me check with the captain about our two possibilities and see what he says.”
Tower 1: “OK, just let me know and I'll run the jump calcs for you. Stay safe out there Alexa. I don't want to lose another… friend.”
~Connection Ended
I stared up at the ceiling again, letting my mind just go empty for a few minutes. That was all cut short by the static of the on board PA system kicking on.
“Jank, have we got a course yet? Jank, respond damn you.” The voice of my CO Kyle Patterson battered against my ears. He didn’t have to scream into the microphone, it was loud enough all ready.
“Copy Commander. I've got two possible locations that I need to run by the captain. Also, I've told you that's not my name anymore.” I irritatedly reminded him.
“Whatever you say Jank, protocols still have to be followed. I'll let the cap know to expect your report.” The PA clicked off. That bastard knew he could call me my real name, it's not like anyone was gonna report him to the general or anything. I began writing up the data report on the two supply points. Weighing the options in my head was always a challenge, but Mertha Bay was looking like the right choice here. The Silver Spear needed extensive repairs on the life support systems and some minor fixes to other systems. Triton Station would be faster, but I seriously doubted that we would survive to Eclipsa.
Pulling up the local connection network I attached my report with my opinions to a message to send to the captain.
[Communications officer Ryan Jank]
Seeing my dead name on screen always bothered me. It was just more of a reminder of my father. The PA dragged me back out of my thoughts.
“Comms Officer Jank, report to the bridge immediately.” Ughh. Having to leave my pod always sucks. But, if the captain's calling I've gotta go. I breach the hatch to my pod as the hallway lights up from my movement. The long white hallways of the Spear always remind me of those hospital horror stories. Like any minute a clown doctor is going to try and remove my spleen with a pair of pliers or something.
My fellow crewmates give me a wide berth as I make my way to the bridge. It's not that they dislike me, it's more they don't want to associate with ‘one of my kind’. The only person on this whole darn ship I care about is Amelia, the life support system tech. She helped get me my first order of hormones all those cycles ago. Her and my contacts at the radio towers are the only reason I'm still a part of the TCN. If I had it my way I would have gone AWOL months ago, I didn't want to die fighting a giant weed.
I finally reached the bridge door and scanned in using my biometrics. The room was near empty save for the three officers already there. Kyle was leaning against the star chart with an annoyed grimace on his face. The Navigation officer Paul Timms was marking out possible routes to the two locations I had suggested. Even though Tower 1 would give us the best routes, Paul always liked to check his own. He really was a control freak when it came to anything navigation related.
The last person on the bridge was the captain himself. Captain Terrence J. Cloudstone, the “tip of Terra's spear”. Terrence had been the captain of the Silver Spear for almost a decade. He had been the one to relegate me to radio duty after all the issues with the rest of the crew. He stood a foot taller than me and he had a mustache that reminded me of my dad. As I moved toward the star chart, his icy gaze turned towards me.
“Communcations Officer. Your report is duly noted, however we do not believe your guidance is accurate. Triton Station will be the fastest resupply, that is where we will be headed.” His gruff voice was spoken in a way that indicated he expected obedience. Kyle had a small smirk forming as he watched the captain disregard my assessment.
“But sir, we have to repair the life support systems on board. Triton does not have the capability of providing that service.” I knew that Mertha Bay was a gamble, but at this point it was our best gamble. “As I said in my report, TCN back channels have not reported any problems with the colony despite the lack of outgoing comms. The administration has just not repaired their transmitter after an incident or something. But without Cordelia, there is no other location to do repairs.”
“Be that as it may. I would much rather get this ship where I have confirmed safety than anywhere else. Now go report to your little radio friends our new plan and get me a route.” He turned away indicating I was dismissed. I walked quickly out of the bridge and back to my radio pod. Stars, this was a dumb idea.
I got inside and locked the hatch after me. I opened up one of the drawers next to my chair and pulled out my communication tablet. I entered my personal credentials rather than my officer ones. I had gotten the second account so that I didn’t have to rely on the TCN provided service. Luckily as a radio tech, I was allowed to have this for “security purposes.” Really it was so if there was a problem with the main TCN channel, they could hijack mine. Once the chat function booted up, I sent a local chat to Amelia letting her know what was up.
<Lexaplex> Hey Ames. What is your diagnosis on our life support system? The captain has decided to forgo any form of repair in order to piss me off.
<TamingAmy> Damn. We may be able to hold out till Eclipsa. But we are going to have to turn off the water recyclers filters every six hours. They are getting overworked and we will need to ration water use.
<Lexaplex> OK, well, I'll leave that report to you. Hopefully the captain takes your words more seriously than he seems to take mine. Don't over work yourself Ames.
<TamingAmy> Same to you, Lex.
I put my tablet away and sat in my seat in silence for a minute. I thought about how all of this could have been avoided if we didn't run support for rebels. Yeah, the Affini are bad and are gonna turn us into slaves or whatever, but was this better? We were now going to have to ration water just to stay alive. How is that any different than being forced to work for nothing but food and water. I finally grabbed my radio transmitter and initiated contact.
~Connection Established
Radio 8: “Radio 8 to Tower 1, Radio 8 to Tower 1, come back.”
Static. The station was probably in a dead zone right now. I figured I'd have 30 minutes before a return call came. I set my seat to recline and laid back to nap.
I floated in an endless void. Sleep always came with either quiet emptiness or a loud memory. This void represented that emptiness. I pictured stars passing by, moving like flaming chariots through space. Around the stars I pictured little planets forming. Before long I was floating next to a model of the Sol system. The star I had grown up with was shining in front of me.
Now a memory begins to coalesce. The Jovian moon of Europa flew straight at my head. Suddenly, the void was gone and my old bedroom was my new environment. What memory would it be this time? First day of school? Day of Grandma's funeral? Recruitment Day? No. This was worse than all of those.
On my bed lay an exquisitely beautiful black dress. It was something I would love to wear to a fancy dinner party. I had bought it on a whim, and was now staring at it. I watched my body play through the motions of that night. I begged myself to stop, but my shirt still came off. I screamed that this was not going to end well, but my pants were gone. I watched my body pull the dress on and turn toward the mirror.
The reflection was imperfect, too harsh shoulders, no filled out top, hips too narrow, but it was still me. I finally saw a reflection that made me not hate myself. I wanted to just end this memory here, wanting this sense of happiness to last. Yet, the memory continued. The door behind me opened, I watched it in the mirror. Through the open doorway, my father walked in.
His dark brown eyes glowed with fury. He shouted words through his dark mustache. His large hands ripped the belt off his pants. His large legs powered him over to where I stood. His powerful arms swung the belt with pure rage. The first hit struck straight across my face. Wake up. The next hit across my back, tearing the dress with its force. Please wake up. The next hit on my legs, burning pain following. WAKE UP.
I shot awake, nearly falling out of my chair as I sat up too quickly. I felt tears running tracks down my cheeks, leaving warm tracks in their wake. The phantom sting of the belt still simmered on the places I'd been struck. Ten years had passed since then, yet those memories never left.
Tower 1: “Tower 1 to Radio 8, Tower 1 to Radio 8, we are receiving.”
A masculine voice cutting through the radio brought me back to reality. Jess must be on break, which means this is probably Steven. I quickly tried to remember his code phrase.
Radio 8: “Thanks. What kinda flowers are you wearing?”
I'm not sure why his code phrase is that, but I guess he's a big fan of plants or something.
Tower 1: “Irises. Jess told me about your intended destinations, did your captain make a decision?”
Radio 8: “Yes, he's selected Triton Station as our stop off point.”
Tower 1: “Understood. Sending routing calculations for jumps to Triton Station now. Your first jump should be completed as soon as possible to ensure proper positioning.”
Radio 8: “Thank you, Steven. I'll get these calculations to Navigation and we will get moving. Radio 8, signing off.”
~Connection Terminated
I killed the transmission and looked over the routing calculations. They looked pretty good, but I didn't like how our second jump would come awfully close to Affini territory. I began making a transmission schedule for communication. I would report back to Tower 1 before the second jump. Before the third jump, I would need to reach out to Triton's radio operator.
I sent off the routing info to Navigation and waited for an affirmation. They should have been expecting my message so it shouldn't take too long to get a response. I pulled my tablet back out and started doing a couple number puzzles. These simple things always helped keep my mind at ease. Finally, nav sent a message back to me, confirming the route. The route was slightly different than the calculations, but that was to be expected. Paul always had to have his way when it came to navigation.
I sent the confirmed calculations down to the engine room to prepare for the jump. The four day countdown began with a small hum beginning to run through the ship. The slow spooling process vented no heat and kept any one trying to monitor for jump distortions from noticing us. Once the message was sent, my job was now just to sit and wait. I turned on the back channel sweeper, to monitor for any TCN news and tried to relax.
The days passed slowly while waiting for the jump to happen. Day one was spent in complete silence, not even a single message came over the radio. Day two I actually had to leave to get food. Luckily no one was in the hall when I made my way down to the mess hall to collect some provisions. Synthcubes and some more synthcubes. Stars, I wish they had a crunch bar just once on one of these stupid cargo pallets. Maybe Triton station will have one. Day three came with the report of another ship being captured by the Affini. The TCN Rubicon had apparently been captured. Day four began with a soft ping coming through the radio. This meant that the TCN had an important news report to send out. I played idly on my tablet just to try and pass the time hearing news of anything the TCN thought was necessary. I listened closely to the message currently being played. It was one of the propaganda messages to inspire the troops.
“Every day we face the enemy head on. Brave soldiers on the front lines die for your safety. We just learned of a new victory our men have won over the weed menace. The next generation fighting armor we developed has proven itself in battle. Aboard the TCN Rubicon, Lieutenant Elizabeth Travors faced off one on one with one of the weeds. The armor’s unique ventilation protected her from the evil gas they produce to incapacitate us. She then used the magnetic actuators in her glove to hit the plants head with so much force it blew apart. Sadly, the plants death throws summoned more of its kind and the ship was taken. This sacrifice was a noble one and we will succeed in their honor. Remain Strong! Terra Forever!”
I clicked the radio off so that I didn't have to hear anymore. Glad we have armor that can do absolutely nothing to them. Did people really fall for this stupid nonsense? Anyone who's seen or faced off against these plants knows their heads are meaningless to them. Lt. Elizabeth was probably captured and this was their spin on it. The only way to beat the weeds was to not fight the weeds. We needed to keep running and sneaking around, then maybe we can find a real weakness. I was pulled out of my thoughts as the intercom clicked on.
“Jumpdrive is ready. All hands prepare for jump.”
I braced myself to my chair, securing the belt installed for these jumps. I felt the ship lurch as the exotic matter in the drive pulled space and time around us. My stomach dropped as we leapt thousands of miles in a second. My head slowly stopped spinning as the temporal distortions came to an end. I undid my belt and sat my chair up as straight as possible. I then linked up to the engine room to check for any issues.
“Comms to Engine, how are we looking down there?” Normally the captain or the commander should be checking with the engine room, but neither of them wanted to do it. It was beneath their station or something. For me though, after four days of radio silence, with nothing but news of more ships being taken by the enemy, I was happy to do it.
“Engine to Comms, the drive shook like a mother, but she stayed together. I tell ya, these slow jumps put a lotta pressure on her.” Molly responded with her unique accent. The accent came from the area of Terra she grew up in, and it was actually kind of cute. If she wasn't a transphobic piece of shit, I might have actually been attracted to her.
“That's good to hear. I'm going to check in with Tower 1 and then confirm our next jump. Once we've confirmed routing, I'll send you the data.” I responded as I began to pull the original routing back up. I sent a quick pull request to Navigation for our coordinates.
“Atta boy, Jank.” She responded back with one of her unique turns of phrase. Sometimes the way she talked reminded me of my father. I cut the connection off.
Navigation finally sent over our current location and I began to plug it into the route we had planned. It looked like our jump came out very close to our intended drop point, but not exactly. This had me worried for our next jump as we would be getting very close to Affini space. One small miscalculation or a small displacement from the jump, and we were plant food.
~Connection Established
Radio 8: “Radio 8 to Tower 1, Radio 8 to Tower 1, come back.”
I sent the signal off and waited. Hopefully Jess was in right now, with temporal distortion around the jumps, I had no idea what time it was. I killed some time reading some books I'd downloaded to my tablet. I had always loved reading, especially fantasy and romance novels. They managed to pull me away from the world I had to live in and let me experience life as someone else. I had wanted a big library when I was a kid with bookshelves 30 feet high, but that dream disappeared when I joined up.
Tower 1: “Tower 1 to Radio 8, you are being received.”
A feminine voice, but not Jess. In fact, it wasn't a voice I recognized at all. This must be someone new. If that was the case, then they'd have been told the basic call and response.
Radio 8: “We have a ship of canaries, where should we drop them?”
I cringed at this one. Of all the safety call and responses, this one made absolutely no sense. Though, I guess that is why it works so well.
Tower 1: “Next to the umbrellas. Glad to hear from you Radio 8. What can I help with?”
Well, they responded correctly. Something still felt off though. I got an idea to try and trip them up.
Radio 8: “Where is Jess, she is usually the one I work with.”
Tower 1: “Jess is unavailable at the moment, but don't worry. She has given me all the information I need to help you. So please just send me your coordinates and we can get you what you need.”
Something was wrong. This person was not someone who worked for the TCN. I don’t care what planet you came from or what life you led to this point, no TCN official would say please. Luckily, they’d left themself open claiming Jess had given them all they needed.
Radio 8: “Before that, I could really go for a candy bar.”
Tower 1: “Oh, I can get that for you just tell me what you’d like.”
Radio 8: “I figured you wouldn’t get that one. So, are you terran pirates or what? Though, if I had to guess, you aren’t terran at all.”
Tower 1: “Well aren’t you a clever little blossom. What ever do you think I am then, petal?”
The voice had changed to have more of a melody to it. It felt like every word she said was a song. The use of the words blossom and petal were also a dead give away.
Radio 8: “You’re an Affini. You guys have finally found the terminal station. Well, it's been nice talking with you.”
~Connection Terminated
~Connection Established
Tower 1: “That was quite rude of you petal. It is impolite to hang up on people like that. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”