Читать книгу Refugees on Urloon - Melissa Aires - Страница 5

Chapter 1

Urloon Spaceport, six months after rescue.

Svana entered the combined mess hall and rec room and sat quietly in the back of the room. It was a cold night, snowing hard as it had been since they arrived on Urloon. The population of the planet, who lived in domed cities under the sea, had kindly opened their landside spaceport, making utilitarian quarters for the fifty surviving crew members. Their medical skills were surprisingly advanced, and the crew, even those who had been put in stasis, healed during the long quiet winter.

There was a buzz of excitement in the air as crew members took their seats at the mess tables. They had been waiting for months for a communication from Adrazine. Some of the young people held hope of a rescue, but Svana didn’t see that happening. Late night homesickness and frustration at the limited communication with family back home were frequent issues that brought young women to Svana’s door. She was old enough to be the mother of most of the young crew and many had come to see her as a parent figure.

Svana expected several visitors tonight. The unpredictability of war had brought the heart of the battle to them, and the timing was right for the Confederation’s killing blow, the Pulse. The powerful weapon’s backlash had tossed their small ship through a newly created jumpstream anomaly, and they’d ended up far from Confederation space. None had ever expected to be refugees, so far from home.

Captain Ringel played the vid on an Urloon machine.

“I am Commander Harl Edge communicating to you from the Central Confederated Command Center on Adrazine.” The man on the screen was straight-shouldered but looked tired and worn despite his crisp uniform and bearing. “We will soon have a communication relay in place, so messages to and from Urloon will reach us here on Adrazine in days instead of months.”

That made the crew smile. Communication currently took three months one way.

“Due to resources lost in our final but successful campaign against the Asha, and the great needs of many of the Homeworlds, we won’t be sending a rescue vessel to Urloon in the foreseeable future. The jumpstream anomaly that flung your ship the distance to Urloon will need thorough research before we can attempt a passage through it, though it is an exciting development and may open up that whole sector to trade. As soon as we can assemble a research team we will study the new jumpstream and share the data with you and King Rankree.

“Conventional spacecraft require more fuel and crew than we can presently afford, and the nearest jumpstream, is as you know, the one near Asha, which is still a dangerous sector of the Confederation.

“Though far from home, your crew is in more stable conditions than many of our Homeworlds, who are facing plagues, famine, attacks from small bands of Asha sympathizers, and political unrest. The Asha still have hidden strongholds throughout the Confederacy. Resources that are not allocated to Homeworlds are diverted to finding and returning all enemy combatants to Asha, where our military is now in control.

“You and your crew are the best of the Confederation. I am certain your resourcefulness and good character will provide direction for the coming years. Perhaps crew members’ families here can combine resources and mount their own expeditions to Urloon. I would be happy to help coordinate a private rescue attempt.

“We are thankful for King Rankree’s and the people of Urloon’s hospitality. I know you and your crew will work hard to contribute to your host world’s well being.

“Captain Liam Ringel, I give you the Confederation ship Toulous as a reward for your faithful service to the Confederation. You may rename it, refit it, use it for business or sell it as you see fit. You’ll know best what will most benefit you and your crew.

“I know you understand the regret I feel personally in not rescuing you and your crew. I trust in the coming days you’ll help your young crew understand how difficult this decision was.

“I hereby relieve you and all your crew from military service to the Confederation, with the stipulation you could be called up in the rare circumstance the Confederation needed you. I cannot imagine such circumstances, but we live in rapidly changing times.

“Perhaps we will meet again one day, old friend. Please keep in touch. Many here are interested in your well-being.

“Commander Harl Edge, signing off.”

The communication was greeted with silence and some tears. The Academy drew its students from the elite of the Confederation so the crewmembers were the children of military commanders, politicians, weapons manufacturers and planetary royalty. It was a sign of the desperate times in the Center Worlds that such high profile families couldn’t persuade the military to bring their children home.

Captain Ringel spoke. “Once the relay is in place we will up communications to once per week per crew member.” Svana was happy with that change; she could keep in touch with her daughter, Junia. “We have options. King Rankree and I’ve talked at length about possible scenarios and I’ve sent the ideas to your flatpads so you can study the options and make the best decision for yourselves.

“Some of you may have families who can pool resources and mount an expedition to Urloon. When you do your monthly communication, give your family members Commander Edge’s contact information to coordinate such efforts.”

Several of the crew glanced toward Ensign Palos. He was a Hereditary Heir to the Rulership of Kunr, one of the last hereditary ruling planets in the Confederation, and wealthy. His family could very well mount a rescue.

“Another option is Urloon Citizenship. It would require the gill adaption procedure, but there are jobs and military service available. King Rankree is increasing the size of his Strike Force due to the upsurge in pirates out here on the Rim. He expects more marauders, displaced military pushed out to the Rim worlds. Any of you could train to be flight crew or support. The domed cities, as you know, are gorgeous, and the standard of living is high in the domes. There are vids of dome life and the adaption procedure on your flatpads. I can also arrange tours to the domes’ visitors’ section.”

Several of his young officers sat up straighter and listened intently. Many had planned a long career in the Confederated Military.

“A third option, which doesn’t require the water adaption procedure. King Rankree would trade good farmland, seed, housing, farm equipment and trainers for the Toulous. Our farm goods could be traded throughout the Rim worlds, possibly earning enough to pay for passage back to Confederated Space. Urloon does have a long snowy winter, but it is fertile and will produce a wide variety of foodstuffs. Land-based farms are rare here but there is a demand for fresh produce throughout the Rim colonies. Our ship could eventually be refitted as a trader using a combination of Urloon and Confederation technology. Studies on that will commence soon. If you have an engineering background and would like to help with this project, contact me.”

After Captian Ringel was done speaking he held a question and answer time, promising to get further information as soon as possible.

Usually the crew played a few games of drift ball before retiring, but tonight they straggled away into the frigid night in twos and threes, quiet. Svana made herself and Liam each a cup of Urloon Spice tea. He looked tired.

“Poor kids,” Liam said, accepting the mug of tea. “It’s not the future I envisioned, either,” he said, stirring Urloon honey into his cup of Spice.

Svana smiled. “Never in my wildest dreams would I have chosen to become a colonist on a remote world with long snowy winters and a population that lives underwater. I was going to settle near my daughter. My compensation package from the Toulous contract would have purchased a small dwelling.”

Liam was about her age, perhaps a few years older. Time had been good to him. His lithe physique still rippled with muscle, his hair was thick, gray streaked black falling to his jaw, and his face had the type of bone structure that would age well–strong high cheekbones, a cleft jaw often lightly bearded in a mix of silver and black, exotically tilted dark eyes, and warm bronze-toned skin. Some of the female students had crushes on him, which he seemed oblivious to.

He smiled. “I was going to retire to the ChenChen coast and learn how to fish.”

“You’re not old, Liam. You’re in your prime. Too young to think of retirement, anyway.” Over the months they had become accustomed to using their given names instead of titles when they were alone together.

“Definitely not what either of us envisioned. Will you consider returning if a ship finally arrives?”

Svana took a deep breath. This was something she wrestled with in the late nights. “I admit I wish I was with my daughter, or she was here with me. I’m not sure I could do the deep space trip, not after the Pulse.”

“I have no desire for deep space travel, either,” Liam said. “All my years of military service, I was always on jump lines. This was my first experience with true isolation. I have no stomach for it. Don’t mind owning up to that.” He shook his head in a deprecating manner, flopping his overlong hair into his eyes.

Svana patted his hand. “No shame in that. With deep space travel there is no guarantee of survival.”

They were both silent for a time. Svana’s hand felt warm from touching Liam’s hand. Svana found him so attractive; she worked hard at keeping that a secret. She was an untrained support staff, a maintenance worker, assigned to a ship full of elite, well-educated military. Liam was a highly decorated officer with ties to some of the most important leaders in the Confederation.

Svana took a sip of the Urloon tea. “Hopefully they will open up the stream in a few years. I can’t imagine never seeing my daughter again. There are high expenses and high crime levels where she lives, but I wasn’t looking at a comfortable retirement, anyway. She is fortunate to live in the employer’s compound, so her situation isn’t as unsafe as the city. My hope now is that Junia has been frugal and can find transport out here one day. She is very young and smart, graduating four years ahead of her classmates. Urloon could be quite an opportunity for her. And it is so peaceful here.”

“Ensign Palos’s family will surely fund a ship. I think we’ll see one from them in the next few years. We can work to get your daughter aboard, if she desires to move here.” Liam made a note on his flatpad. “I’ll be taking the adaption option. Military is all I know and I can be of service here on Urloon. I expected to return to the Academy after the battle of Adrazine. What I’ll do here won’t be very different. I’ll be teaching about Center World and Asha tech to the Urloon military.”

“Except you’ll have gills and fins and live underwater.”

“Yes.” He paused. “It is beautiful in the domes. I took the tour to the visitors’ area. Their living quarters are a mix of air-breathing rooms and underwater rooms. Luxurious, which appeals to me after old ships and utilitarian classrooms. I’ve no family left in the Center Worlds. Once I am accustomed to the domes I think I’ll like it.”

Svana shuddered, remembering the days after the Pulse, when she forced panic and horror away so she could help the crew, knowing that their ship was not fitted for deep space, knowing they could all die at any moment. “I’ve no desire for deep space either. But Junia–if she could get good transport out here…” Svana sighed. “I would be thrilled.”

“What option are you considering?”

Svana pulled her flatpad out of her coverall pocket, unfolded it, and looked at the options Liam had uploaded earlier. “For me, I lived on an agricultural world until I was in my twenties. I suppose I’ll choose the small farm option. Living underwater with gills and fins doesn’t sound appealing.”

Svana glanced at Liam. She would miss him more than he knew when he moved into the domes. In their desperate circumstance, military protocol had been relaxed and they spent many hours together discussing solutions to problems large and small, searching for ways to make their situation more comfortable for the crew. She came to know his dedication to the crew, his firm resolve that they would survive. Under his commanding presence she had glimpsed his loneliness and grief at the lives lost and she had done what she could to help. Sometimes she was a sounding board for decisions facing them; sometimes she saw that his physical needs for food and sleep were met. After they settled on Urloon, Liam put her in charge of the recreation and fitness programs while he taught advanced level courses so the crew would not be idle. They had become friends. “Urloon has been good to us. I’m sure we will adjust to our new lives,” Svana said.

Liam nodded. “In time we will. It will be a good life.”