by P. C. Haring
Valeer eyed the display, dispassionate. “No, Captain. This is a refuge station.”
Both Cody and Cassie stiffened at that and turned their attention back to the hologram in silence as the station itself came into full resolution. The station was huge, easily as large as the slipstation over Lura, and probably larger. In its prime, it could have housed a quarter of a million men women and children with ease. But like the ships, the station itself looked a shamble. Entire modules hung off the main structure, connected by little more than mooring lines, power conduits, and the occasional gantry. Hull breaches littered sections of the station like holes in Swiss cheese. Sensor scans indicated the sections surrounding the breaches had been sealed, thus preserving the rest of the station. Communication towers lay askew, having been ripped from their mountings and left to list. Small, unremarkable pieces of debris tumbled around the station in orbit, as if they had just fallen off. It was as if the station had been the focal point of a war, but nobody bothered to repair her scars.
“Welcome, Captain,” Valeer said, a tone of despondence in his voice, “to Surahan Station.”
November 2, 2832
10:30
Surahan Station - Presidium
WHEN SHE FIRST SAW THE station, Cassie had hoped its appearance as rundown facility that barely held itself together was more of a facade than anything else. She had hoped the exterior had been left to decay as a way of minimizing the station’s potential as a target, but would instead serve as a camouflage hiding a robust facility with resources available to serve as a focal point for their investigation as well as a tactical command center. She had hoped they might be able to get some answers. But after two hours, four failed docking attempts, an improvised solution to fix the problem, and a rickety lift ride from the airlock to the station’s gantry, those hopes lay in utter devastation.
An exposed conduit running over her left shoulder shorted out, sending a cascade of sparks raining down. She turned away, her hand coming up to shield her face only to be bumped from behind as one of the Mjöllnir crewmen failed to stop in time. She did not fall or lose her balance, but her hand found the casing of the damaged conduit and grabbed it by instinct. She felt nothing, so at least the insulation was intact. But her hand came away dirty with dust and soot. With no other recourse, she wiped it on her uniform pants. They would need laundering now and as she looked around, Cassie realized that the grime would be the least of the adversity her uniform would see. The corridor ahead of her was a picture of disarray and stood before her as an obstacle course to be navigated.
“Are all of your docking gantries like this, Colonel?” she asked as she ducked under a low beam, while at the same time stepping over a piece of exposed conduit that had been uprooted from the sorry excuse for deck plating.
“Actually no, Commander.” He held a bundle of exposed wires to the side so the party could pass. “If you’ll accept my apologies, this is actually one of our least used docking ports. We keep our population away from here due to the danger.”
“With due resp...” She stopped short as her shoulder struck a piece of debris. “With due respect, why have us dock here? I would have thought you’d have found something in a little better shape.”
Valeer didn’t miss a beat as he slid through one of the gaps and resumed his place at the head of the pack. “I can understand that thought, Commander and no offense is taken or intended. However, we do like to be cautious. We thought it would be easier to bring you in through a site that did not see civilian traffic. It would help us to better facilitate your introduction to the station’s population.”
“Assuming we survive the walk,” she muttered.
The station lighting ahead flickered in an intermittent pattern that haphazardly illuminated walls browned with age and withered away, exposing the rusted out framing. Panels on the deck had been removed in a seemingly random pattern. It made the rest of the walk a little more fun, but at least most of the debris had been pulled away in this section. They arrived at the hatch to the station mainstay. Valeer stepped over to a panel, but instead of entering a code on the keypad, as would have been expected, he opened the panel and reached for a lever inside. He gave it a hard pull down towards the floor and the hatch opened, but only a fraction as much as it should have, and not enough to allow passage. Valeer lifted the lever and pulled it down again, opening the door a little more. It took five more pumps before the doors finally opened.
Her breath caught in her throat as she found herself face to face with a massive crowd as people, slowly pushed their way through to wherever it was they were trying to go. It was as if everyone had been herded into a shelter to wait out an attack, only to find a choke point. Valeer urged her into it. Perhaps he knew how to get through. She followed him, with barely enough room to breathe and no room to shift her arms from their instinctive, protective position by her chest. As Valeer waded through the crowd, he called for people to make room for them to pass unhindered. Some moved for them, but the vast majority either did not hear or did not care and as they continued deeper in their movement became slower, more deliberate, leaving Cassie to wonder if she might be swallowed up in this mass of chaos.
The Colonel had called this level the Presidium and although it seemed to be in better repair than the access corridor they had just used, it still left much to be desired At least here, the decking was intact and the ceiling had been constructed higher than what she might have anticipated. It had the nice aesthetic of feeling more open and in a past life Cassie suspected this might have been used as some form of promenade or market place.
Valeer lead the ground team through the stands and towards a column set in the center of the room. As they approached, Cassie noticed the stairs winding around as it ascended. The stairs too were crowded with people as they sat at the side or stood on one of the landings, but at least here everyone sat to one single side, leaving an aisle which allowed them to climb up.
They emerged onto a balcony that looked out over the Presidium’s main level. Even here things were crowded, albeit less so than it had been below. Looking around, Cassie realized she and Valeer had been separated from the rest of her party. She pressed through to the balcony railing. If they were still on the main level, she might be able to spot them from above. Or so she thought.
Her head spun as she took in the sea of hooded heads below her. Having been down there just a moment ago, she knew how crowded it was. Up here, however, the individuals all blended into one large mass of slow movement across a monumentally huge deck Cassie worked her way along the balcony and crossed at a foot bridge. The far Presidium bulkhead was barely visible to her eye. If she had to estimate there were thousands of square meters of deck space. And she could not see even the smallest sliver of the deck for all the crowding below her. The traffic jam she had thought she had navigated was nothing of the sort. This was dangerous overcrowding, plain and simple. The refugee camps she had seen during the war could not hold a candle to this. No wonder the station was falling apart.
Valeer stepped to her side, and handed her a cup. “Take some water.”
Cassie took the cup and hesitated for only a moment before sipping.
“How...how...how many?”
“The Presidium is comprised of five primary levels; of which you are on level two.” He motioned to a display on the central column and stepped aside for Cassie to take a look. In a general sense, it indicated her location on the second of five main presidium levels, each larger than the one below it. Valeer continued his explanation, “Each presidium level continues out beyond these main floors, into each of the surrounding sections and contain living areas, entertainment sectors, and more.”
Cassie took another awestruck look around. The holographic display on board the Mjöllnir could not do this place justice. Even when scaled to the ship on the holo display, the effect was lost. Cody would have to see this for himself when he met the General again. No Alliance installation could come close to this. Even the gate
at Lumo was small by comparison, and that was home to a quarter million people.
“What about the population? How many are here?”
Valeer shrugged. “We can’t say for sure. People come and go every day so we can’t take a census. But our best estimate puts the combined population of the station and the refugee fleet at about three and a half million men women and children, mostly civilians, with an average net gain of fifteen to twenty thousand more every week.”
“What happened to force all these people to come?”
As the words left her, she hoped she did not come across accusatory. When the ship had docked, she had expected to find the station to be a military installation, a hidden base of the Remali. Never would she have expected to find this on board and curiosity had gotten the better of her.
“You’re already aware of the benefits this station enjoys due to its proximity to the pulsar.”
She nodded. Even though she did not fully comprehend all of the astrophysics, it had been likened to trying to find a fly crawling in front of the light of a maritime lighthouse back on earth. Sure, the insect was there., but the intensity of the light was so strong by comparison that it remained effectively invisible.
“Because of this,” Valeer continued, “Surahan station remains the last safe haven for these refugees. There is nowhere else as safe in the Remali Confederacy. They are here because they are hiding.”
“From whom?”
She already knew the answer before the question had been asked. Although there had been no formal contact with the Remali until now, the Verasai had put up more than enough of a stink. Rumors and stories of the ongoing slow burn conflict between the Remali and the Verasai were almost common knowledge. Having seen the Verasai operate fist hand, Cassie could see why the Remali would be driven from their homes under a prolonged Verasai campaign.
“They are hiding,” Valeer responded, “from the Ralgon.”
November 2, 2832
16:00
Surahan Station - Presidium
IT DID NOT HAPPEN OFTEN, but when he had the opportunity, Cody Amado enjoyed cultural exchange. As a military organization, the ISPA Fleet’s primary mission had always been defense and there was an entire Diplomatic Corps for this kind of thing. But the one advantage of Marr refusing to allow him an ambassadorial team, was that he would be the one charged with the diplomatic duties.
That exchange had been one sided up until now. But since their arrival at Surahan, it seemed to Cody that things were balancing out. It must have been a calculated risk for Rashar to have brought them here. It would have been one thing for them to have docked at a Remali military installation, but from what he could see and the reports from his crew who had already been aboard, not the least of which had come from Cassie, there was nothing to indicate even the slightest military purpose here. Perhaps the Remali had just done a damn good job concealing a darker secret, but by the looks of the station, that would have proven quite difficult.
Getting the General to stand down had been a minor miracle, he knew. While the logic of his argument to keep Melor on the ship made total sense to him, there was no way to know if it would to Rashar or even if he would care and he counted himself lucky that they had not come to blows. She was taking a risk on him from her perspective, and for the life of him, Amado could not figure out why she would consider it worth the effort. Perhaps the fact the Valor carried more than enough firepower to rip the Mjöllnir to pieces had something to do with it. She had the upper hand tactically, they both knew it, and it left him wondering just how far he would have taken his threat of war over Vivine Melor.
In hindsight, he probably would not have taken the Alliance into that deep end. To do so would have been irresponsible and extremely dangerous. There were other, more diplomatic, channels to exhaust before armed conflict and despite his role as the commanding officer of a warship, his stomach turned at the thought of more needless bloodshed.
What a mistake going to war with the Remali would have been.
Words failed him as he took in the Presidium. Cassie had briefed him, of course, but nothing she said could have prepared him for the sight in front of him. He tried to speak, to ask a question, to comment, but even after so many hours of touring the station, he wasn’t sure where to begin. Rashar offered a friendly hand on his shoulder and guided him out of the throng. He refocused as they emerged onto a small avenue of shops and eateries. Although crowded in their own right, here there was enough room for one to direct themselves and not merely be swept up in the current of moving bodies. They drifted over to a food vendor and found themselves seated without asking for a table and then served a plate of something that reminded him of sushi, though the portion was larger. After having been tricked by his father into trying it, Cody always enjoyed sushi.
“I mean no disrespect, General, but may I… test this?”
Rashar seemed taken aback for a moment before offering an encouraging nod.
“I’m sure it is expertly prepared,” he said as he cut a small piece of the fish off and placed it into the test kit he had been carrying in his jacket pocket. Nira had provide one to everyone who was boarding the station with instructions to test all food and drink before consumption. “However, when we are first encountering a new society we find it a reasonable precaution to make sure there’s nothing in the food that would be toxic to us.
“You suspect duplicity?”
He applied the test liquid to the sample, sealed the kit and activated it.
“No, General. Our previous conflict notwithstanding, I have no reason to believe you would intentionally poison me. This would be on the level of physiological compatibility. If for example the Remali diet requires the consumption of a compound which is naturally hazardous to human physiology and I were to eat it without knowing…”
“Yes, I can see how that might present a problem.”
The kit finished its analysis and with the green lights giving him permission, Cody tucked into the meal. The succulent fish hit his tongue and engaged with a barrage of flavor, texture and consistency that erupted in perfection. He forced himself to slow his chewing, an action the General saw.
“Does it not agree with you, Captain?”
He let the question hang there as he worked as much out of the fish as he could before he swallowed it down.
“Far from it, General. I was trying to savor every last moment. This is phenomenal.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
Amado dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and took a sip of water to clear his palate before starting on the next piece. “This whole experience has been amazing. I’m not just talking about the food. This station and all it has to offer is incredible.”
Rashar chuckled under her breath. “You’re a kind liar, Captain. We both know this station is a rundown dump that is barely holding together.”
“Which is what makes it amazing. Clearly, it’s an older design. Clearly, it’s seen better days and is in dire need of some major repair work. I won’t argue that point with you, General. But that’s exactly why I find it amazing. I’m overwhelmed by the fact that you’ve been able to keep it functioning despite utilizing it this intensively.”
Rashar graced him with a slight nod. “In that, I suppose you are correct. Surahan should not be able to support this dense a population.”
“I’m sure not. But I am curious. Without trying to be presumptuous, your people didn’t build this?”
“Excuse me, Captain?”
Amado smiled at the cuteness of how she was attempting to play coy. “Your people didn’t build the station. I’ve taken sensor scans of both your ship, and this station. Granted we can only get limited data on the Valor, but this station is an open book. Which,” he paused as he took another piece of sushi, “is a point of interest right there. But even after that, I can get some rudimentary sensor information about your ship and none of it, General, comes close to matching the plethora of data I can get from this station.�
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Rashar bristled.
“Add to that the complete difference in design and architecture on just the exterior of these two respective posts and the dramatic difference in the state of their repairs and I come to the conclusion that Surahan is not Remali in design.”
Rashar offered no response.
“I’m not accusing you or the Remali of anything, General. I’m just curious.”
Rashar sighed. “No, we did not build this station. That honor falls to the Verasai.” She paused. “For as long as the Remali have traveled in space, we have controlled this sector, until ten of your years ago, when the Verasai attacked and drove us out. Five years after that, we were able to retake that which was ours. When we returned here, we found that the Verasai had built this station. We don’t know why, but our only theory was that they intended to use it and this isolated area as a staging ground from which to attack Remali interests.”
“So, you took it over and kept the station as spoils, makes sense. What happened that the station fell into such disrepair?”
Rashar closed her eyes and let out another breath. “Over the years, Captain, the station has become a sanctuary for refugees in the two wars I had previously alluded to. We have limited resources, and have to devote what we can to the maintaining of our fighting force; ships such as the Valor to defending territories against the Verasai and the Ralgon. While Surahan has become our last sanctuary against them, the sheer number of refugees coming in every day, combined with the lack of resources, means we can only maintain this station’s most critical needs.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, General.” Images of the horrors of the Ralgon war flooded back into his mind: the ships, stations, entire planets that had been consumed. He had almost lost Cassie. And now, if they were back, Artez Colony had become the next in line. “My people were locked in a violent and deadly war with the Ralgon. I can’t imagine yours has gone much better.”
She shook her head. “It has not, Captain”