by Calista Skye
Commander Chevalier herself was a thin woman in her fifties. Her uniform was deep blue and made to measure, unlike Emily's own baggy overalls and utility belt with the mundane tools of her unglamorous trade. The commander lay back in her very comfortable-looking chair and sent Emily a short glance, looking her up and down. She lazily grabbed a pad from her desk.
“Yeah... Henderson, isn't it? No, uhmm... let's see... Jameson, right?”
“Fallon, ma'am.”
“What? There's no one by that name here... Oh yes, here we go. Emma Fallon.”
“Emily, ma'am.”
“Whatever.” She read on her pad. “Cleaner... Maintenance section... Cadet Meller in charge... Two years served...” The commander read for a while, then frowned.
“Hmm. I see here that your former superior, Sergeant Hoff, gave you very good performance reviews. She writes that you're eager, competent, pro-active, responsible... But then, after Cadet Meller took over, your performance dropped off completely. Lazy, sloppy, unpopular, he says. Unappealing, even.” The commander glanced up at Emily once more, plainly taking in her curvy shape. “And I think I can guess what he means.”
She read for a few more seconds, then put her pad down and fixed Emily with a cold stare.
“You understand, of course, that with performance reviews like the one Cadet Meller has prepared I can't possibly promote you. Because of your previous performance reviews, which have been positive, I will not dismiss you from space service here and now, but you can consider yourself on probation for the next two years. If you don't improve considerably, I will not hesitate to send you back to Earth for good.”
Emily felt her jaw drop. On probation for two years? No promotion? All because of that jerk Meller?
“But ma'am, Cadet Meller is a bul-”
“Be quiet,” the commander snapped. “I will not have a future officer badmouthed by a common cleaner. I have full confidence in Cadet Meller. His background is quite impeccable. Why, his father owns six car dealerships! And his mother is a former vice president of the Justice For The Wealthy charity. Whereas your family is, shall, we say, not quite as illustrious. You should be grateful for having such a man as your immediate superior. Be inspired by his leadership! Follow his example of hard work and sacrifice! His part of the maintenance division is the best performing one of all, despite containing you. That is all; you can leave now.”
“But ma'am-”
The commander slapped the desk with her hand. “No, that's it from you. You're lucky I'm this lenient. I've sent people down for less than this. And for space's sake, lose some weight! Many aliens from other civilizations come here, and they might spot you in the background. Consider what kind of first impression they get of our civilization if the first thing they see is your fat behind. In fact, you're banned from even entering the alien section from now on. You will limit yourself to the common departments of this station. Dismissed.”
6
“There it is.” The starship pilot pointed. “That's their space station. They call it Tellus. It's an ancient name for their planet, I gather. Just under ten thousand humans live there, as well as a few hundred aliens. Been up for less than six years, and they're still building it. It looks primitive, of course, but we should keep in mind that they've only been a space-faring species for ten years or so, except some early activity that never amounted to much.”
“How the hell do you know all these things? Wasn't this civilization just discovered?” Ev'Ax marveled. Ber'Ain wasn't just one of the best pilot in the Imperial Navy, he also seemed to have an endless memory and would never lose any piece of information. He was a new acquaintance to both Ev'Ax and the prince, but already he had proven himself and didn't need to use the royal honorifics in private.
“Yes, just five days ago. Scout ship from the 203rd Exploration Flotilla. They got some info from the Deplo aliens, who were apparently the first to contact this world. It's not often that we discover a whole planet of humans, so I took special note.”
“They're complete humans? Just like us?”
“So it seems. No major differences. Same variety of skin tones and facial structures that we have.”
The prince looked at Ev'ax, an excited smile on his face. “Except they may have real women, right? Any information about that, Ber'Ain? The fashions when it comes to the shape of their females?”
“Female fashions? Uh... My information is mainly of a military and general nature. I guess we'll see when we get there.”
The prince had to use some self-discipline not to rub his hands in gleeful expectation. “Indeed we will, Ber'Ain. Indeed we will.”
“Do they know we're coming?” the practical Ev'ax asked.
“Not yet,” the pilot said. “We're still too far away for us to be visible on their instruments.”
“Do you want to make an entrance, Ar'Ric? If they know that the heir apparent of the Atrexu Empire is on his way, they'll freak out completely. Might be fun.”
“No, better not,” the prince said. “I want us to be as anonymous as possible. We're mainly here to observe. Of course, if our observations are fruitful, we may choose to reveal ourselves. Or not, as the case may be. We'll make that decision when we get there.”
“Very well,” Ber'Ain said. “I'll make sure that we look just like a Deplo shuttle on their scanners.”
“Could we disguise ourselves completely? Look invisible?” prince Ar'Ric asked. “The less attention we draw, the better.”
“We could. That would also make it possible for us to dock with the station at a different location than the alien section they have. If we do dock there, we'll have to go through customs and so on. If we want to stay completely anonymous, it's better to enter elsewhere. Let's see.”
The schematics of the station appeared in the air in front of them. “That looks promising.” Ev'ax pointed. “A remote part of the station, far from the alien section.”
“Looks like a maintenance hub,” the prince observed. “So we will pass for locals, right? We won't be unusually short or too pale or too strange in other ways?”
“I don't think that will be a problem,” Ber'Ain stated calmly. “I understand this planet has a very wide variety of humans. They'll be used to all configurations of body and face. Only our clothing may stand out. We should wear our blandest, most unspectacular garments.”
“That's perfect! Take us there. We'll pass undetected into the station, take a look the humans and then plan further action.”
“Stealth mode engaged,” Ber'Ain said as confirmation. “ETA six minutes from now.”
7
Emily staggered down the hallway from the Executive section. Her knees were weak, and she half feared that she would pass out. The terrible result of the meeting with the station commander had almost knocked her out. She felt dizzy, and the anger and disappointment and despair were joining forces and setting up for a depression that she felt could take her down for good.
Meller had completely ruined her chances here; that was plain. The commander obviously had no idea who she was in the first place and relied totally on Meller's mean-spirited and incompetent performance report.
Not promoted... She was the first ever not to climb at least one rung higher on the space career ladder after the first two years. No one had spent more than two years on the lowest level. And now it looked like she'd be spending at least four years as a cleaner, subjected to the whims of any little cadet.
No, she thought. That will not happen. Meller's next performance review would not be any better than the last. And then she would be sent down to Earth, fired and banned from space duty for the rest of her life.
On Earth, there were sometimes ways to reverse an unreasonable and obviously discriminatory decision like the one the commander had just made, Emily knew. But in space, there was no recourse. No unions, no ombudsman. The space station was exempt from almost any rules about the treatment of staff, especially the lower ranks.
But she would not let them fi
re her. She had some pride. It would mean the end of her dream to have a career in space, but if it came to that, she would not let anyone dismiss her.
Fuck it. I'll just resign.
8
Cadet Meller sauntered through the busiest part of the space station with the two new female sub-cadets trailing him. It was the first time he had been given responsibility for showing two new recruits the station, and he was very satisfied with himself. They had been very impressed with his leadership style and his easy manner, just as he had intended. At least one of them, the thinnest one, would be ripe for a targeted pickup routine later that evening. It couldn't fail. All he had to do was display his superiority over those silly civilian serfs who manned the maintenance section, and the admiration of these two trainees would know no bounds.
He was taking them to that section right now, where he was sure he would spot some poor underling he could chew out in front of the two girls. That would get them both even more attracted to him, he was sure, and it would make them good and ready for anything he wanted. He'd heard that nothing was as exciting to women as male authority and power. And he finally had some of that now.
As they passed through the main commercial plaza on the way to the utility parts of the station, Meller suddenly heard his two trainees gasping behind him, and he half turned to check what might have caught their attention. They were both staring past him, their jaws hanging open in disbelief.
“Oh, my goooood!” one of them exclaimed. “They are spectacular!”
“Who are they?” the other said, astonished.
Meller followed their stares and immediately spotted what they were looking at. Three young men were walking easily through the crowd. They were tall and plainly very strong and athletic, their muscles bulging visibly under the strange gray uniforms they wore. The crowd parted for them, and people were unashamedly staring. Especially the women they passed seemed to be taken with the display of easy strength the three unknown men showed, just walking through the crowd.
Some of the people in the hall, Meller noticed, had frozen in their tracks and were just staring unashamedly. He grudgingly understood why. The three men walking together were unusually eye-catching, even on a space station that was regularly visited by exotic aliens. Not only were they tall and athletic, but they also had faces that even Meller could see were extremely handsome. There was a healthy sheen to them, too, so unlike the pale and pasty skin tone of most people who had spent months on the space station.
But mostly, Meller saw, the three men radiated confidence. They were not cocky youngsters who had spent years in gyms and tanning salons and were now finally enjoying some attention; they were adult men who were not trying to stand out, but who stood out nonetheless. They simply couldn't help it.
And there was more, too. They radiated not just confidence, but authority. Especially one of them, even taller than his two friends and walking between them and slightly in front. He was a leader; there was no question about it. He knew himself and his own capabilities, and despite the fact that he had to still be in his twenties, he had an air of command about him. There was no mistaking it. This was the first true leader of men that Meller had ever seen, and he felt a sudden urge to fall into step behind the stranger and follow him to war.
The two female sub-cadets had just stopped in their tracks and were still staring in quiet awe as the three men passed them and continued on their way through the station. Meller felt his own confidence drain away very fast. He could not compete with those guys, not in any way.
Jealously and anger welled up in him. He knew for a fact that he would never be a man like that, not if he lived a hundred years. It was so unfair!
Suddenly he just wanted to get away. The two trainees took no notice of him, still mesmerized by the three men who were now walking calmly away.
Meller slunk away in the crowd, his plans for seduction crushed and his day ruined.
9
“Not looking too good,” Ev'ax said. “Not quite as bad as back home, but certainly not worth the trip so far.”
The three officers had walked around the station for an hour and were starting to get despondent. “Mm,” the prince grunted. “Must have been a blight here too. Is it a galactic epidemic, this female gauntness? Five thousand women on this station, and not one of them with a feminine shape?”
“Oh, I've seen a couple of females with almost okay hips,” Ber'Ain said. “But of course, the rest of them was positively skeletal. Who'd have thought that our silly fashions would have already reached this primitive civilization?”
“What, having been discovered for only five days?” Ev'ax protested. “Let's hope that our influence hasn't traveled that quickly. No, I think this is a problem that these people have made entirely on their own, just like our race has. Shall we call it off, Ar'Ric?”
The prince came to a halt and looked around pensively. “You know, the potential is there for this race. They have a great variety of skin color and other features. I've seen many faces that could be very beautiful if they were only allowed to flesh out a little. It's a tragedy, really. Not a dimple to be seen anywhere. Just sunken cheeks and flat behinds. Nothing to... to hold on to. I'm afraid I've brought you here on an unsuccessful mission. It's time to call a retreat. I still have many candidates to be introduced to back at the palace. Mustn't disappoint them after this sudden delay. After all, they've starved themselves for months. I can only hope that the court will at least let through one actual female.”
“It was a good idea,” Ev'ax said calmly. “It was worth a shot, anyway. Who knows what could have happened. Of course, when you're Emperor, you can simply decree that the starvation of females is outlawed. Or you can marry a skinny woman and try to make a real wife out of her and actually let her eat. Then I assume the fashion will change. But not as fast as if you'd found a woman right now.”
“I suppose that will be the way forward,” the prince said heavily, surveying the crowd. “It will take a while, though. Many years, probably. And the effect will not be as strong as if I'd married a round and feminine woman right away. Can you imagine a stronger statement of intent?”
The prince shook his head in sadness. He was more disappointed than he thought he would be. The desire and need for a wife had grown stronger in him while he was on the way to this newly discovered civilization because he'd had high hopes. Now they were crushed. But he was a warrior. He could handle campaigns that didn't go his way. It would have to be plan B from now on.
“I don't understand,” Ber'Ain said. “You're talking about wives and marriage. Was is your intention to marry one of these aliens?”
The two others looked at him in surprise. “Yes,” Ar'Ric said. “That was the whole point of this expedition!”
Ber'Ain had gone visible pale. “I... But... You... Did you want to make an alien an Imperial Princess? I had no idea! I thought that this was a casual reconnaissance mission and that we were simply judging the local females like soldiers always do!”
“Oh,” the prince said. “I suppose we didn't explain the purpose of this outing that well to you, Ber'Ain. I apologize for the oversight. I guess we thought it was obvious. I see now that it wasn't. It was not on purpose, I assure you. But it came to nothing anyway, so I guess it turned into a loose recon mission after all.”
He looked around one last time, but it was no use. All the women he could see were skinny and hard-looking. “Well, we're done here. Back to the ship.”
10
Emily wandered aimlessly through the less populated parts of the station, oblivious to her surroundings, feeling that her feet were distant and numb. She didn't want to be seen by someone she knew, because the suspected that her grief and anger were easily visible on her face. She didn't even want to go back to the quarters that she shared with Tonya, because she was still reeling from shock and needed some time to herself before she was ready for the sympathy and hugs that she knew her friend would provide in ample amounts when she heard the ne
ws.
She was still in a daze of disappointment and anger, and now the worry was starting to seep in, too. What would she do? What could she do? It did truly look as if her career in space was quickly coming to an end. Her efforts to learn everything there was to know about cleaning were wasted. Her many hours of unpaid overtime had benefited no one but Meller, because Emily had no doubts that the reason his department had done well was mainly due to her own and Tonya's efforts.
She dimly realized that she had been wandering around in the deepest recesses of the maintenance section and that she hadn't met anyone else for a while. This part of the station was used for life support machinery and technology and as a storage facility for various equipment. The lighting was very low, and she was probably alone. She had been able to keep the tears and the sobbing down this far, using the self-discipline that she had developed over the years, but now she seriously couldn't keep her disappointment bottled up much longer.
She saw a dark hatchway in the wall ahead. She had only been in this narrow corridor a couple of times before. She didn't know what lay behind that hatch. But she vaguely remembered that it was usually closed. Maybe she could hide there and give in to the hopelessness and sadness for just a little while.
She peered inside. No sign of anyone, just darkness and the same stale air as everywhere else on the station. She bowed her head a little to get through the hatch. It was still dark, and this was a very narrow corridor, but she could just about see that there was another open hatch further along. Maybe it would widen out and give her space to sit down for a little while.