by Kit Walker
The last files in the list are a series of images: orbital photos of F766-3.
"Oh, god," Asha says. "This is Earth. They're talking about Earth."
•
The shuttle station is — as usual, according to Ruza — teeming with people either regretting their life choices or struggling to remember which ship they're supposed to be going back to. There's a lot of wobbling, groaning, and cursing directed at the 'burning hate star' in the sky.
Ruza parks her car a few blocks away to avoid the crush. It takes Asha a few moments to notice they've stopped.
"You okay?" Ruza asks, as Kadar and Vaz clamber out of the car. "You've been acting weird ever since you got back from that meeting."
"I got some bad news." Asha offers Ruza a feeble smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be okay."
"You sure?"
"... No, actually."
Asha steps out onto the street and stretches. Ruza circles around the front of the car to join her.
"Thanks for the ride," Vaz says.
"No problem," Ruza replies. "Can you make it from here, or would that cause another shootout?"
"I would be offended," Kadar says, "but we don't have the grounds to dispute that."
"I don't suppose I could convince you to come with us," Asha says.
"Mmm ... no." Ruza grins. "You're not the first to try and lure me away to a life of space adventure. It's not my thing."
"I'm not so sure it's my thing, either," Asha says.
"Well, if you ever decide to give it up, call me."
Asha can't think of anything witty to say in response. Instead, she steps in close and presses her lips against Ruza's.
The kiss is more desperate than she intended, and goes on for maybe a bit too long. Ruza's hand slides around to rest at the small of Asha's back; it feels like the only thing holding her upright.
Asha eventually breaks the kiss and clears her throat. "So, uh ... see you, I guess."
Ruza nods and doesn't move from that spot as Asha, Vaz, and Kadar walk away.
•
Vakala's pickup crew is, naturally, an hour late.
Laela has half a mind to call the rep from last night and chew his ear off. Figuratively and literally. This always happens when she deals with the big companies. They don't respect her, so they have no problem wasting her time, and she ends up yelling at lackeys in the hopes that it will provide some kind of catharsis.
It rarely does.
The head lackey meets Laela at the bottom of the ramp to sign all the necessary documents. Laela presses her thumb against the tablet, a little more viciously than is warranted, and the lackey rattles off the most unconvincing "Thanks, have a nice day," that Laela's ever heard.
She can't blame the guy.
Laela turns her attention to the crowd milling around the terminal, filing back to their respective ships. She can see Asha and Vaz approaching, and behind them—
"No," Laela barks at them. "What's he doing here? This is supposed to be his stop!"
"Yeah," Kadar says. "About that."
•
Asha isn't sure how much time passes between the moment she gets back to her quarters and the knock on her door. It's probably too long for any healthy person to be staring at a wall, but she can't really bring herself to care.
"Asha?" Ysal says. "May I come in?"
"Sure."
The door opens. Ysal steps into the room, and takes a moment to examine Rat's cage. She's been asleep since before Asha got back; something must have tired her out.
"So what's the verdict?" Asha asks.
"Laela has agreed to hire Kadar as a probationary crew member," Ysal says. "I was not expecting Vaz to argue in his defense."
"He had a weird night. I think they bonded a little."
"Vaz also expressed concern over your emotional state."
"Of course he did."
Ysal hesitates, then continues, "Did you not find the information you were looking for?"
"No, I found it." Asha takes a deep breath and lets it out. "It's — the Sentinel data said Earth was overrun by those ... things inside the quarantine. Everything's gone. Everyone."
"Ah." Ysal shifts uncomfortably. "I am not sure what to say."
"Yeah, me neither."
They sit like that for a while, in silence.
Finally, Asha says, "I thought I'd be able to go back. I mean, everybody I knew was dead, but I figured ... I don't know." Asha rubs both hands over her face. "Fuck."
"What are you going to do now?"
Asha finds herself staring at the wall again. "I have no idea."
Episode 5: Aegis
The Project Oasis launch party is a last-minute idea, hastily booked at the three-star hotel nearest project headquarters. The ship doesn't actually launch for another two weeks, but this is everyone's last chance to celebrate before the volunteers go into quarantine and, directly afterward, cryo.
Asha's cab pulls up in front of the hotel. She taps her card against the reader, and the cab — fully automated and unnecessarily anthropomorphized — emits a happy little fanfare of beeps before opening the doors for her.
She passes Tom from Tech Design on her way into the hotel. He's already leaning against the wall in a way that suggests it's the only thing holding him up.
"How's it going, Tom?" Asha calls out.
Tom replies with a slurred but enthusiastic, "I threw up twice!"
Asha gives him a smile and a nod and heads for the ballroom.
There doesn't appear to be a coherent theme to the decor, aside from 'glowsticks and free alcohol.' Asha's been assigned to a table with the rest of the software team, but nobody's sitting down yet, and probably won't until they hit the speechy part of the evening.
Asha used to drag Kelly along to events like this, but Kelly's gone.
There are multiple bars set up to accommodate the extremely large staff and their drinking habits. Asha queues up at the least crowded one; the guy in front of her glances over his shoulder, double-takes, and turns to face her.
"Hi," he says. "I don't think we've met."
The guy's about an inch shorter than Asha, with considerably better posture and dress sense than most of the men she works with. And he's kind of cute, so she's willing to indulge him.
"I'm with the software team," Asha replies. "We don't usually come out of our hole unless there's free beer."
"So you're a programmer?"
"QA," Asha says. "I break the programmers' toys and make them cry. Although I'll be a diagnostic technician once I get on the boat."
The guy looks surprised. "You're going up?"
"Of course. You?"
"Of course." The guy offers her his hand. "Mike Sutherland. Chief of Security."
Asha shakes it. "Asha Reed. Why do we need a Chief of Security?"
"You're the eighteenth person to ask me that," Mike says. "I don't think Project Oasis was expecting many ex-Marines to sign up. They had no idea what to do with me."
"And now you're heading up the security team on a science mission to an uninhabited planet."
"Yep," Mike says. "I'm just here to look pretty."
"Well, you're doing a bang-up job, Mike." Asha gestures to the suit he's filling out quite nicely. "This was pretty unnecessary, though. Half the people at this party are in their socks."
"Congratulations on not being part of that half."
"Hotel carpets are gross," Asha says. "And I'll have you know these are my nicest jeans."
"Fancy," Mike says dryly.
They finally reach the front of the line. Mike orders two whiskey sours and hands one to Asha; they duck into a quieter corner of the ballroom.
"So," Mike says. "Why'd you sign up?"
Asha snorts. "Besides the fact that I'm a huge fucking nerd?"
"What, that's the only reason?"
"Well, no. I used to work in consumer tech. Long hours, low pay. Eventually I figured if I was going to be working that hard, it should mean something, you know?" S
he sips her drink. "And life on Earth is really starting to piss me off. Mars seems like a nice change of pace."
"You're rage-quitting the planet?"
Asha laughs. "More or less. What about you? Why would an ex-Marine sign up to go to Mars?"
"Same reason, I guess," Mike says. "I always wanted to help people, make a difference. Turns out that's not what the military is actually for, so I started looking elsewhere."
Somebody at the front of the room gets ahold of the microphone and announces that the speeches and awards will begin shortly, and could everybody please return to their seats. There's a pleading note in the announcer's voice.
Asha sighs, annoyed. "See you on Mars, Mike."
"Yeah," Mike says. "I look forward to it."
•
608 years later.
Asha doesn't usually remember her dreams, but there's one nightmare that won't leave her alone.
It's not even a nightmare, really. It's a memory.
She wakes abruptly, Mike's screams as that silver dust swarmed his body and ate him alive still seeming to echo around the room. She takes a few moments to reorient herself, groans, and kicks off the covers.
Asha is tired all the time now, no matter how much she sleeps. And she's been sleeping a lot. Probably too much.
There's a faint scratching noise. Rat squeaks at her, nose pressed against the wall of her tank, watching Asha expectantly.
Asha grabs a ration bar off the shelf, breaks off a piece, and drops it into the tank. Rat sniffs at it and gives Asha a glare of betrayal.
"Yeah, I know it's stale," Asha says. "It's all we've got. Take it or leave it."
Someone knocks on the door to Asha's quarters. "Asha?" Vaz says. "You up?"
Asha looks down. She's not exactly dressed for company, but Vaz is the ship's doctor and unlikely to be embarrassed by her lack of a bra. "Yeah, come on in."
The door opens, and Vaz leans into the room. "Hi."
"Hi," Asha says. "What do you need?"
"Nothing," Vaz says. "Just ... checking in."
Asha levels a flat stare in his direction.
"I'm worried about you," Vaz admits. "I'm sure I'm not the only one."
"It's fine, Vaz," Asha says. "This isn't something you can fix."
"You've barely come out of your room since we left Tacenda." Vaz takes a step into said room, hands in his pockets. "What you're going through ... isolating yourself won't help."
"I'm not isolating myself." Asha points at Rat's tank. "I've got Rat in here with me. She's great company."
Vaz looks dubious. "I don't want to invalidate your feelings here, but I don't think a rodent can supply the kind of emotional support you need."
"Neither can half the people on this ship."
"Okay, that's ... fair." Vaz peers at Rat. "Where did that thing come from, anyway?"
"She's from Earth, originally." Asha reaches into the tank and nudges the food in Rat's direction. She continues to turn her nose up at it. "I think she stowed away in one of Frontier's cryo pods."
"And you kept her?"
"Well, yeah. We Earthlings need to look out for each other."
Overhead, Laela's voice comes through the ship's PA system: "All crew, report to the command deck." A second later, she adds, "Asha, try to look presentable."
"I'm not on duty for a few more hours," Asha says. "What the hell does she want?"
•
It takes Asha a few minutes to clean up and replace her sleepwear with a socially acceptable amount of clothing, during which time Laela continues to harass her over the PA.
When Asha finally reaches the command deck, the first thing she notices is Kadar at the helm. Kadar looks just as surprised as Asha to be sitting where he is.
"Um," Asha says.
"Asha!" Laela barks. She's standing on the captain's platform in the middle of the room, which is also unusual. She never uses it, despite the fact that she is, technically, the captain. "Comm station. Now."
"What exactly is happening?" Asha asks. "Why is Kadar flying the ship?"
"Because he's the only other person who knows how," Laela says.
"I actually don't," Kadar interjects. "This piloting interface is really old."
"Comm station," Laela repeats, pointing at Asha and then the console next to Kadar.
Asha hops into the seat and glances over at Vaz, seated at the science station. He looks hopelessly out of his depth, like a dog at the controls of a helicopter.
Ysal stands on Laela's right side, next to the captain's platform, which puts the two of them nearly at eye level. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable resupplying at another depot," she suggests.
"This is the only one in range," Laela replies. "Do you want to live off nothing but nutrient paste for the next three weeks? I don't."
Asha examines her console, careful not to touch anything. The ship is approaching a huge, ring-shaped space station; the interface has labeled it 'Supply Depot 1356.'
"Okay," Laela says. "Everybody look professional, and try not to talk. Asha, hail the depot."
Asha looks down at the console again. "Uh ...?"
Laela rubs a hand over her face. "It's the blue icon on the left."
Asha tentatively taps the icon. After a few seconds, a communication window pops up on the front viewscreen.
It's a live video feed of what appears to be the depot's command deck. A marcor turns to address them; he's thin, middle-aged, with a vaguely bookish appearance and calculating eyes.
"Laela," he says, with surprise and just a hint of hostility.
"Eirik," Laela replies loftily. "This is Wayfarer, requesting permission to dock."
Eirik's gaze sweeps the command deck; his expression goes carefully blank. "Permission granted," he says, and gestures to one of his underlings at a nearby workstation. "Bring your ship up to Gate Three—"
The underling turns to whisper frantically at him. Asha catches the words 'power failure.' Eirik visibly suppresses some kind of outburst and turns back to the camera.
"Make that Gate Four," he says, and ends the call.
Laela lets out a long, relieved breath. Then she points at Kadar. "Out of my chair."
•
The supply depot consists of a relatively small central hub, surrounded by an enormous docking ring. The docking process is uneventful, and once they're fully parked, Laela climbs out of the piloting station.
"I'm going to talk to Eirik," she says. "You're free to leave the ship, but please, please don't get us in trouble."
"That's asking a lot, given our record," Kadar says.
Laela mutters something about replacing the entire crew while they're here as she walks out.
Asha extracts herself from the comm station, careful not to touch anything else, and heads for the door as well.
"Are you disembarking?" Ysal asks as she passes.
"Uh ... no," Asha says. "I was headed back to my room, actually."
"Ah," Ysal says, posture drooping a bit. "I was employed at this depot for many years. I will be giving Vaz and Kadar a tour and hoped you would join us."
Asha cringes internally. Disappointing Ysal is like making a puppy cry. A gigantic lizard puppy. And Vaz's expression can only be described as 'aggressively encouraging.'
"Yeah, sure," Asha says. "Let's do that."
Ysal immediately perks up. "Excellent."
•
Eirik's office is on the very top deck of Supply Depot 1356's central hub. It's a large, open, circular room with windows all around; from his desk at the center of the office, Eirik can see every ship coming and going from the station.
Laela's only been in here a few times. The first was almost ten years ago, when Eirik was contemplating whether to hire the scrawny little telian refugee in the homemade mobility harness. Most subsequent visits were associated with Laela's various fuck-ups, either real or imagined on Eirik's part.
The last time she stood in this office was two years ago, when she told Eirik she was quit
ting, effective immediately, and taking his best security officer with her.
The elevator stops a deck below the office, with a long, shallow staircase up to the top level. Laela hates stairs. She especially hates these stairs.
Eirik actually has his chair turned away from the staircase, the overdramatic fuck. He turns to face her as she approaches the desk. "Hello, Laela."
'Laela.' Not 'Captain.' Laela grits her back teeth, but manages to grind out an artificially pleasant, "Hi, Eirik."
Eirik turns toward the windows and regards Wayfarer: bronze hull darkened with age, her armored, angular prow contrasting with a round, heavy underside, her solar sails folded and tucked in at her sides. Even as old as she is, she's easily the most impressive ship docked at the station.
Well, except for the gleaming golden Sentinel ship coming into Gate Six.
"Holy fuck," Laela hisses involuntarily.
"The Pathfinder Suraya," Eirik says. "She's returning from a charting mission out past the border." He scratches his beard. "I take it you're here for repairs?"
Laela's hackles go up. "Wayfarer's in excellent condition," she growls. "We're here for food and medical supplies."
"Ah," Eirik says, pleased at getting under her skin. "And how—"
The overhead lights flicker and briefly cut out, plunging the office into darkness. When the lights come back on, Eirik is already on the comm.
"Teka!" he barks.
"Where was it this time?" comes the reply.
"My office. Teka, if these power issues continue much longer—"
"I'll take care of it."
Eirik ends the call and swears repeatedly under his breath.
"Anyway," Laela says. "We might be a little short on credits, but we can make up the difference in salvage."
"The last thing I need is more salvage," Eirik groans. "A scavenger ship came by last week and offloaded everything they had. Most of it is ancient and barely usable."
"Don't tell me you're fencing for looters, now," Laela says. "That's low, even for you."
"They weren't looters," Eirik says defensively. "They were trawling the edge of the quarantine. Found some old alien wreck."