"You son of a bitch, Walt," Karen said, standing at the end of the bed. The naked woman on top of her fiance turned her head and shrieked. Walter sat up, trying to quickly disentangle himself as the woman desperately tried to cover herself. Karen dropped the ring on the floor, and walked out of the bedroom without another word.
Walter threw on his underwear and a shirt, and ran after Karen, the naked woman shouting after him. He caught up to Karen at the door out of their shared apartment. "Babe wait! Come on, wait! I can explain!"
Karen turned back, tears in her eyes. "I'll be back tomorrow after work for my stuff. Don't be here, Walter."
"Come on, Karen, please. Let's just talk," Walter begged.
Karen walked out the door, and never returned.
Notas, such a beautiful and terrible world. Karen saw it fitting that the ground shook, a minor tremor, as she left the building with her whole world crumbling around her. She looked up at the bright sun and shielded her eyes, and then she started walking.
Hours later Karen found herself along a winding road outside of town when she finally got tired. The sun was setting over the coffee fields, and she fell to her knees and wept.
"Aloha ahiahi! Are you alright?" Karen looked up to see an elderly man coming out of the coffee trees. He stood in front of her, looking down with concern.
"I'm-" Karen tried to speak, but no more words came.
"Are you hurt miss?" the man asked her. She shook her head. "Are you lost?"
"No," Karen said, looking down.
"Then what's the matter? What are you doing out here?" the man asked.
Karen looked up at the man. He had a look of great concern on his face, and she couldn't help but smile, even though her eyes were sad. "It's a long story."
"Come, my house is nearby. It'll be dark soon," the man said, holding out his hand. "You can tell me the story after you eat. You are tired and hungry."
"Oh, no, that's alright," Karen said.
"I insist. I don't usually have company, but I make a good poi," the old man said.
"Mahalo," Karen said, feeling the strength in the man's rough hands. "What's your name, sir?"
"I'm Alaka'i," the man said.
"I'm Karen."
The old man refused Karen's help in the kitchen, and when she attempted to tell him how she ended up at the edge of his fields, he told her to wait until after dinner. Karen waited, quietly, unsure of what to do, and wandered listlessly through his ranch house. He had few possessions, but many pictures hung on his walls and she looked at them, seeing a much younger Alaka'i, often in military uniform and with other soldiers, on what appeared to be many different planets. She was staring at one when Alaka'i came and found her.
"It's time to eat," the old man said.
"You were a soldier?" Karen asked, turning around.
"Yes, long ago," Alaka'i said. He beckoned for her to follow, and she went into the dining room with him.
"It's very good, thank you again, Alaka'i," Karen said after a few bites of the food from her plate. The man had prepared a feast.
"I will tell you a story," Alaka'i announced, after nodding, quite pleased she was enjoying the meal.
"I thought I was supposed to tell you mine?" Karen asked.
"You are not ready to tell me your story," Alaka'i said. "But you are ready to listen."
Karen raised an eyebrow, then took another bite from the bowl of poke.
"Once I was a young man, brash and knowledgeable about everything," Alaka'i began in a booming voice, part of that youth returning to him. "But that is beside the point."
It was 1140, and the Second Auroran Civil War was about to come to a sudden and dramatic close. In a surprise attack, the Federation launched a four-pronged offensive against the three strongest Auroran houses and the world of Aurora itself, hoping to take advantage of the shattered empire.
Chief Petty Officer Alaka'i Kealamauloa was in the task force sent against the Vella. They bypassed the Vardoth station which was besieged by Moash forces at the time, and landed 80,000 troops on the world of Adek Loral after smashing the defense fleet in orbit. It was to be their first and only stepping stone to the Vella homeworld, a strategic base of operations for the rest of the invasion.
Adek Loral was a world of great history, named for a simple farmer who became a great warrior. Alaka'i had read all about Adek Loral, the man and the planet, but almost immediately upon stepping out of his dropship, he felt a great sense of disappointment. The 80,000 troops were more than enough to pacify the agricultural laborers, none of whom seemed to have any of the fighting spirit of Adek Loral, the man. They were barely more than slaves to the great Vella House, impoverished and malnourished, the vast majority of their food production was shipped off-world to feed hungry warriors in the three year civil war. The local garrison, intended to keep the workers in line more than defend the planet from invasion, was made up largely of the very old, very young, and the wounded.
Adek Loral fell to the Federation invasion in just under a week, and Alaka'i spent the remainder of the war overseeing a food distribution center. Alaka'i was assigned with a squad of marines to remain on the planet, while most Federation Navy personnel returned to orbit after the initial invasion to carry out interdiction and begin the invasion of the Vella system. About 50,000 troops remained on the planet. Elsewhere, Federation troops fought and died against a reunified Auroran Empire, but Alaka'i spent his days feeding the invasion troops and the laborers that were supposed to be his enemies.
Alaka'i did not know it at the time, but the war was not going well, and three days before the Federation withdrew from Auroran space, he was awoken from his sleep in the temporary barracks by a young marine. Alaka'i rushed out of the barracks at the insistence of the soldier and came upon a remarkable scene. Standing outside the defense perimeter was a man wearing nothing but a loincloth, covered head to toe in tattoos, and wielding in each outstretched hand a plasma torch. Alaka'i watched with disbelief for several minutes through optics.
The soldiers under Alaka'i wanted to know what they should do, as the marines' lieutenant was in orbit getting a briefing, and Alaka'i was the ranking enlisted officer at the barracks. He was just as confused as they were, but it was his responsibility to make a decision.
Alaka'i ordered the men to fire a warning shot over the Auroran man's head, and before long a redshifted volley of blaster fire from a turret up on a watchtower arced over the man, missing him by only a meter and a half. The Auroran did not flinch, and simply raised the plasma torches higher.
Alaka'i ordered next a directed sonic blast. 130 decibels shot at the Auroran caused him to wince, but he not move his feet nor drop the plasma torches. Alaka'i ordered a cease fire after several futile seconds.
The marines seemed to be getting more nervous, and asked for permission to shoot the man, but Alaka'i was unwilling to give that order. Instead, he ordered three marines to come with him, and walked out to meet the Auroran face-to-face and see what he wanted.
As the four of them approached the Auroran, they could see he was a very old man. His tattoos were impossible to decipher between their density and the wrinkles of his skin. Still, he was strong, holding the plasma torches aloft with ease despite their heavy weight. As Alaka'i came to a stop with his guard five meters away, the Auroran brought them up and rested them on his shoulders, glaring at the four men and saying nothing.
"This is a restricted area," Alaka'i called out across the space between them. "You must leave."
The Auroran growled.
"Why are you here?" Alaka'i asked. "What is it you want?"
"You are the leader here?" the Auroran asked.
"Yes," Alaka'i replied. "I'm Chief Petty Officer Alaka'i Kealamauloa. I've told you my name, now what is yours?"
"I have earned many names, and you are worthy of none of them," the Auroran said. "I will kill you all and earn another."
The marines at Kealamauloa's sides raised their weapons at the threat, but the Auroran was already in the motion of swinging the plasma torches. Both of the projectiles struck flesh, knocking down two of the marines, they died either from the burns or blunt trauma to their chests. The third marine fired wildly, but missed, and the Auroran charged with a blood curdling war cry. Alaka'i lost his sidearm in the following seconds, and the third marine lost his life from a devastating blow to the throat. More marines from the barracks began to run out to the defensive perimeter, but it would be Alaka'i versus the Auroran battlemaster for many long seconds before they arrived.
The Auroran was aggressive, and for good reason, keeping himself close enough to Alaka'i meant the marines wouldn't fire and risk hitting the petty officer. He was blindingly fast despite his age, and Alaka'i was scared, but the Auroran wasn't the only one with some skill. Alaka'i kept away from the Auroran's powerful kicks, aimed squarely at his head and heart, dodging and attempting to close and grapple. For several seconds they danced, and then at last, Alaka'i charged, deflecting a swing at his temples, and brought the ancient Auroran warrior to the ground. They struggled momentarily, but the young former judo champion locked the Auroran's arm and broke it. Seconds later, Alaka'i delivered a rib-shattering elbow to the other man's bare chest.
The Auroran gasped, coughed up blood from the punctured lung, and the first marine reinforcement to arrive shot the Auroran in the chest three times.
"Cease fire! He was already down!" Alaka'i cried out, but the wounds were fatal and the Auroran faded quickly.
"You've defeated me," the Auroran whispered, as Alaka'i leaned in close, trying to stop the bleeding.
"Who are you, warrior?" Alaka'i asked, urgently. "Am I worthy of your name now?"
"I am a simple farmer," the Auroran said, and died with a grin.
Three days later, the Federation abandoned Adek Loral, threatened by an approaching combined fleet from several Auroran houses, but Alaka'i never forgot the Auroran he fought there. He never knew the man's name or how he came to be on that miserable planet, or why he became a simple farmer after what had surely been a long, well-decorated career as a warrior. Alaka'i carried on with his own career, always remembering the smiling face of the tattooed man he watched die in a field.
After almost thirty years service, including another war with the Aurorans that began sixteen years after Alaka'i left Adek Loral and lasted seventeen, Alaka'i retired as a Command Master Chief Petty Officer, and returned home to Notas, where he was born. He bought the house and land, and grew coffee trees as his grandfather did.
"And I hope someday if Notas is invaded, I'll be able to die with a smile on my lips," Alaka'i finished.
Karen had finished eating some time ago, and listened intently to the old man's story. He smiled at her as she realized he was finished.
"So, you wish to tell me your story, young miss?" Alaka'i asked. Karen opened her mouth, about to speak, but the old man held up his hand. "No. You may want to, but your story isn't ready for telling."
Karen frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I know all about it. The tan line on your finger, not thick enough to be divorced, and you keep touching it, so it was today. You broke off an engagement. He hurt you, and you left him, wandering with no home to go to," Alaka'i said. "But that is beside the point."
Karen smiled.
"I have a guest room. You'll stay here tonight, and in the morning, I'll drive you to the spaceport."
"The spaceport?" Karen asked, confused.
"Notas is a beautiful world. A young world, but not for the young. You're not Polynesian, but you were born here, yes?" Alaka'i asked.
"My parents moved here two years before I was born," Karen said, nodding. "My father was a geologist, my mother a volcanologist."
"Ah, yes," the old man said. "This is a good place to study rocks, a good place to be born, and a good place to die, but you must find a path between those two events, elsewhere, unless you want to study rocks."
"Elsewhere?" Karen asked. "But I can't just leave."
"You have no home here anymore, right?" Alaka'i asked. "It's why you wandered out to my farm. I asked if you were lost and you said no, so you must have been coming to hear my story, and hear my advice."
Karen laughed. "So where shall I fly off to?"
"Give it some thought while you sleep. Come, I'll show you the guest room," Alaka'i said, standing up. Minutes later, Karen was passed out in bed. After a simple breakfast in the morning, Alaka'i drove Karen to the Notas spaceport.
"I can't thank you enough, Alaka'i," Karen said, before she got out of the car. "You haven't asked me where I've decided to go."
"After you have lived life, come back and tell me your story," the old man said.
"Sure," Karen said, laughing.
"Whatever you end up doing out there, try to remember to smile," Alaka'i said, as she got out of the car.
"I'll do that. Aloha, Alaka'i."
The ground shook, a minor tremor, as Karen walked towards the terminal.
Altia, such an ugly and miserable world. It was as far away from Notas as Karen could go and still be in Federation space. Karen was weary. Her money had run out fairly quickly, credits just didn't go as far on the backwater planet, and shortly after her arrival she had to settle down and work. Waitressing at the spaceport bar had been an easy enough job to get, there seemed to be high turnover, but Karen stuck with it for more than two years.
The manager was a sleaze, and Karen strongly suspected the whole thing was a front for organized crime, but at least the FATE dealers kept their business mostly in the back room. Only Wendy Lewis was trusted enough to work that crowd, and Karen was happy to let her have it, even if she did receive some massive tips.
In the front of the house, Karen navigated between the tables with skill and poise, always with a smile, and the regulars seemed to like her, even if they were all crooks and thieves. Still, Karen wasn't that happy, and in the back of her mind, she felt like she had run away instead of towards something.
"Something called, uh, Threshold Heavy Industries, supposedly this guy found something up north, started a company," a customer said as Karen approached the table.
"Can I get you anything else?" Karen asked.
"Yeah, sure," the customer said. "Another beer."
"Right away," Karen said, smiling. "And anything for you, sir?"
"No thanks, I'm good," the other man said. He turned back to the first man. "So what is this they found?"
"Something big, like an alien artifact," the first man said.
Karen frowned as she walked back over to the bar and put the man's order in. When she came back, they were still talking. She put the beer down and they both ignored her. Karen lingered nearby.
"Everybody wants a piece, I hear Sigma is setting up a major operation," the first man said. "But the real good stuff, Threshold is keeping it to themselves."
"Man, and that's up in pirate territory too, that's gonna be a problem, won't it?" the second man asked.
"That's just it, this guy's declared himself an Admiral and assembled a lot of big guns to defend it. They're set up as an independent station, but everybody knows he's just another pirate."
"He's from a family?"
"Nah. Some kind of privateer."
"The families aren't going to like that."
Karen wandered back into the kitchen, where she saw Wendy.
"You won't believe what I just heard," Karen said to the other waitress.
"What's that?" Wendy asked.
"There's some kind of huge alien artifact up in pirate space," Karen said.
"Oh yeah, some guy's setting up a station," Wendy said. "Some people were talking about it in back."
"Oh yeah?"
Wendy lowered her voice to a whisper, and leaned in close. "You know that old guy? The one with the scars all over his chin?"
"Yeah?" Karen whispered in return.
"He was saying, that in the good old days, they'd get a fleet together and just take over the thing, but now everyone's too cowardly to try," Wendy whispered. "The other guys seemed to agree."
"Huh," Karen said. "Guys out front seemed to think the pirate families would try something like that."
"Nah, that new station is perfectly safe," Wendy said.
"You really think so?" Karen asked.
"Yeah. Probably great opportunity up there. I know you're unhappy here. How much money do you have saved up?" Wendy asked at a normal volume. "Could you afford to move up there?"
"Well, maybe," Karen said. "Maybe we should both go up there, start fresh away from this dump."
"Nah, you know I have family here," Wendy said. "And Melvin treats me alright."
"Hey, speaking of family, when are you gonna introduce me to that brother of yours?" Karen asked.
"Wayne? I dunno, he's been pretty busy lately," Wendy said. "To be honest, I think he's gotten in with the wrong crowd."
"Well there's plenty of that around," Karen said, rolling her eyes.
"Hey! I'm not paying you ladies to gossip!" Melvin shouted, coming into the kitchen. "Come on, we got customers out there!"
"Yeah boss," Wendy said, rolling her eyes back at Karen.
Karen nodded and headed back out to the front of house. Karen thought more and more about a change, and over the next week, kept hearing about Threshold Station. Then, as she was bringing some appetizers to table 18, she heard the room suddenly get quiet, and people looked over at the door.
"Griswold," somebody whispered.
A lean man walked into the bar with two large body guard types, and they immediately went over to the bar. Melvin quickly came to have a hushed conversation, and then the four men went into the back room. Once out of sight, the room started to return to normal.
The same thing occurred several times over the course of the next two hours, with different people entering, usually with body guards, to be escorted into the back room. Not every entrance seemed to have the same effect on the bar crowd, but Karen realized something major was going on, and when she saw Wendy in the kitchen, she asked her what was happening.
"It's a VIP poker game," Wendy said. "Going to go for days."
"Days?" Karen asked.
"It's high stakes," Wendy said. "And they don't stop playing until people either quit or one person has all the money. I gotta get back in there."
Karen learned more details over the next day. Apparently the players were still assembling, and in the meantime, many of them conducted business or gambled in the back. The day after, Karen found Wendy crying in the kitchen.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Karen asked.
"My brother, my stupid brother!" Wendy said, brushing away tears. "He entered the game!"
"I thought it was just a VIP game," Karen said, not understanding.
"Anyone with enough to pay the entrance fee can join," Wendy said.
"How much is it?" Karen asked.
"100,000 credits. He doesn't have that much," Wendy said, before Karen could ask. "He must have borrowed it, or somebody's sponsoring him."
"Is he good?" Karen asked.
"He's very good," Wendy replied. "But whoever fronted him the money probably expects him to win the whole game. These are dangerous people, Karen!"
"He's in a lot of trouble then?" Karen asked.
"He doesn't even know. I just saw him. He looks eager!. He should be terrified!" Wendy said.
"Well maybe he can win..." Karen said.
"He's totally screwed, Karen, you don't understand," Wendy said, urgently. "If he doesn't win it all, whoever gave him the money is going to hurt him, maybe even kill him. He'll be in debt for millions!"
Karen frowned.
"And if he does win it all? These other players, they don't know him, they'll ask a lot of questions. They'll probably think he's cheating, or they'll try to rob him since he's nobody important, and he can't pay them back. He'll probably be killed!" Wendy said, tears streaming down her face. "How could he be so stupid?"
"And you have to wait on the game all week," Karen said, shaking her head. "Oh Wendy, I'm so sorry. Maybe it'll be okay."
"It won't be okay," Wendy said, sniffling. "I need to talk to him, get him to run. But they'll just keep hunting him forever. And if they find out I'm his sister..."
"Maybe we could all go to Threshold Station together, like you suggested I do," Karen said.
"Oh, Karen. You should go, go as soon as you can, get away from this awful place," Wendy said urgently, putting her hands on Karen's shoulders. "This place is evil, it'll just destroy your life someday like it's destroying mine. I- I gotta get in there... the game will be starting soon..."
Karen watched, concerned, as her friend headed for the back room, trying to put on a brave face as she rubbed away her tears. She learned, over the coming days, that Wendy's brother had refused to run away, and was unwilling to see the threat. He seemed to be doing well in the game, Wendy reported, which only made things worse. Wendy said some of the other players were getting angry and suspicious of him. Karen tried to support her friend, but Wendy was more and more an emotional wreck.
Players started leaving by the second day, and by the third, it was down to just a handful. Wayne was still in the game, and doing quite well. Karen and her customers watched as more and more VIPs left the establishment, either having lost everything and bitter, or taking small profits and running. On the morning of the fourth game, Karen heard there were just three players left.
"So who's your brother still playing against?" Karen asked as Wendy sat quietly in a corner of the kitchen, already grieving.
"Bad guys," Wendy replied quietly. "Stewart Griswold and Nathaniel Mackey."
"Griswold, he was one of the first to show up," Karen said. "I heard some patrons talking."
"He's this horrible arms dealer guy," Wendy said. "He gives me the creeps."
"And the other one?" Karen asked.
"He thinks he's royalty," Wendy said, shaking her head. "I don't really know what his deal is, but he has the eyes of a cold-blooded killer. Either one of them would skin my brother alive if he beats them."
Karen went back to work before Melvin noticed them both taking a break. Only an hour later, Nathaniel Mackey exited the back room, and went to the bar. Karen got another drink order from a table customer and then headed over to listen in, as she saw the man chatting with the bartender.
"So how's the game going?" the bartender asked the man.
"It's down to two now," Nathaniel Mackey replied, quite calmly. "I'm afraid the cards were not in my favor."
"Sorry to hear that," the bartender replied, pouring the man a very expensive Scotch.
"Oh it's only money," Nathaniel said, waving it away. "I play only to see the fear in my opponents' eyes, when they realize the certainty of their demise."
Karen nervously moved along. A short time later, she saw Wendy come out to the front of house.
"I can't watch anymore," Wendy said. "I don't care if Melvin fires me, I can't watch."
"Its busy up here anyway," Karen said. "You can take the tables over there."
An hour passed, then two. Midway through the third, the poker game came to a conclusion. Wendy was behind the bar when Stewart Griswold came out, flanked by his bodyguards. He looked enraged.
Karen saw Wendy's face go white, then Griswold paused, and turned his head to stare at the woman. Wendy's eyes got big, and she looked away, turning to get a drink for a customer. For nearly thirty seconds, Griswold stared at her back. Then he walked swiftly out of the bar. Wendy saw the three men go, and quickly rushed back into the kitchen. Karen moved to follow her, but bumped into Melvin as he came out of the back room.
"Karen, go to storage, get me a bottle of the 1140," Melvin said.
"The 1140?" Karen asked, confused a moment.
"My cut from the game is worthy of celebration," Melvin said, grinning.
"I uh-"
"Come on, now, I don't have all day," Melvin said, getting impatient. "Get the '40!"
"Sorry," Karen said, frowning, but headed for storage.
Melvin got quite drunk on his finest wine at his private table, and Karen didn't see Wendy until much later in the day. Wendy was scared, very upset, but stayed until the end of her shift. Her brother had refused to listen to her, and went off to pay his backer. Wendy spoke several times in hushed, urgent conversations to Karen about running away, and how she'd convince her brother to leave with her. Karen could do nothing but offer support, and hug her at the end of their shift.
"It'll be alright," Karen said. "Don't worry about it. You'll figure something out."
The next morning, Melvin looked disturbed as he came into the kitchen, where Karen was getting a couple plates for one of her tables.
"Hey boss. Isn't Wendy supposed to be working right now?" Karen asked. "Where is she?"
"You didn't hear?" Melvin asked, growing serious.
"Hear what?" Karen asked, suddenly hopeful that Wendy and her brother had left Altia.
"She's dead," Melvin said flatly. "She's been made an example of."
"An exa-what?!?" Karen asked, shocked and upset.
"Stupid," Melvin said, shaking his head. "Her brother won the game yesterday. She should've told me he was playing."
"They killed her?" Karen asked, tears welling up.
"I never would've accepted his entry fee if I knew he was related to Wendy," Melvin said, shaking his head. "It's a wonder he didn't kill me too. Griswold thinks the game was rigged."
"Griswold?" Karen asked. "He- he killed Wendy?"
"Well, I'm sure not personally," Melvin said, shrugging. "But yeah, last night to show the guy he was serious about getting his money back."
"So what happened?" Karen asked.
"He's gone. Nobody's sure if he's dead or just in hiding. If he's smart, he'll get as far away from Griswold as possible or pay up with interest."
"He- he borrowed the money," Karen said.
"You knew about this?" Melvin asked.
Karen frowned. "Wendy said-"
"Yeah," Melvin said, shrugging. "I guess that's why she was so nervous waiting on the game. It wasn't like her."
"I can't believe she's dead," Karen said.
"Well, I need somebody new for the back room, now," Melvin said. "You've been here a while. Can I trust you to keep your mouth shut about what goes on there?"
"Wendy just got murdered and you want me to replace her?" Karen asked, her mouth dropping open. She stood a moment, silent, then shook her head. "I quit."
Karen grabbed some things from her small apartment. She didn't have much but even then she took only the most important things to her. She left the rest, left her apartment, and never came back. An hour later, she was in the spaceport with a ticket.
The Scimitar of Punition was not the friendliest named ship, and Karen got the impression it was a pirate crew, but Captain Webb had been friendly with her, as had the rest of the crew she met over the course of her time aboard. There were ten crew members, and five passengers including herself. Then they picked up another passenger on Viking where the argosy unloaded some cargo.
The small argosy was cramped with so many passengers, but she found herself getting along quite well with a young man named Lars Witt, an ecologist on his way from Syracuse to Georgia. Lars was studying different planetary ecosystems, and the life adapted there, as part of research for a terraforming effort elsewhere. Karen was fascinated, but most of all, she was attracted to the smart young man. She even had the passing thought about getting off the ship at Georgia with him, but unfortunately he seemed to not be interested in her the same way. At least, he never showed any sign of picking up on her hints.
Still, they became fast friends, and he'd tell her stories about the places he'd been to pass the time. When they reached Nesre Primus, Lars and Karen were the last passengers aboard, and he told her a story while the ship made its way through the system to Georgia.
"Mars was the first planet we tried to terraform, you know," Lars began. "And boy did we screw that up."
Lars Witt was a young graduate student, quite gifted at only 20 years old, and his professor at Kane University took him on an expedition across the mere 232,200,000 kilometers to the red planet in a small shuttle on loan from the University. They were there to test out some of the professor's theories on algae growth. They touched down far from any inhabited areas, near a large field of what the locals called Martian's Bane, the toxin-producing algae introduced 850 years prior. They donned breathmasks after gathering the equipment together they'd use, and then opened the airlock and walked out across the planet.
It had been the first time Lars had ever been off of Earth, and as exciting as space travel had been, he was especially excited to visit another world. The terrain was quite alien, and the life was odd. They were, of course, Earth species, genetically tweaked in some cases, but centuries removed by evolution on the new planet. After a hike of about two kilometers, made much easier by the reduced gravity of the smaller planet, though it took some getting used to, they reached the algae field and began to set up the equipment. It was hard work and there was a lot to be done, but Lars was eager to do it.
The Martian day was a bit longer than Earth's, closer to 25 hours than 24, but that gave them more time to collect samples and set up the tests they would conduct before night fell. Lars would have loved to camp outside under the stars, but it would be too difficult with the breathmasks. Once it got dark, they hiked back to the shuttle and camped out inside. The shuttle beds were not terribly comfortable, but Lars managed to sleep well enough, waking up early and eager for the new day.
After some breakfast, they hiked back to the algae field, and began to run their tests. They were so far from civilization, that the two of them might have been the only two people on the planet as far as either of them could tell. Lars found himself wondering about those first human explorers, stepping foot on Mars for the very first time, seeing a whole world out around them to conquer in the name of humanity. Lars didn't realize it then, but that was the moment he decided to work as a terraformer, to explore new frontiers and create new ecosystems, not just study existing ones.
It was late afternoon and results were already promising, when Lars heard a noise in the sky. They were away from the usual spaceport approach vectors for interplanetary landings and skylanes for martian traffic, so they were surprised when they saw a spaceship coming in for a landing about five kilometers away in a shallow valley.
Lars Witt's professor was irate, he had wanted to run his tests in areas untouched by human activities, so when a second spaceship came and landed near the first a few minutes later, the professor insisted on going over there to see what was going on. The tests were likely ruined, the professor said, and so the two of them began another hike around the edge of the algae to confront the spaceship crews.
The two ships were both valkyries, one a more modern model than the other, but both sleek and beautiful ships. Lars remembered having a poster of one hanging up on his bedroom wall when he was younger, but as they got closer, he could tell they had not been treated as well as they deserved. Clearly both ships had seen combat, and the older one in particular had not been repaired back up to original factory specs. When Lars saw this, he warned the professor that perhaps the ships were owned by pirates or smugglers, and shouldn't be messed with. The professor though, was insistent of confronting the trespassers. He actually called them trespassers, even though the entire area was public. The professor considered them interlopers who had ruined two days of research, and was going to go over there and berate them for it.
When they got closer, it became obvious they were indeed smugglers making some kind of exchange, but the professor was undeterred. The professor drew a weapon from his pocket, which surprised Lars, but he remembered on the shuttle ride from Earth seeing and asking about it.
"In case of wild animals," the professor had told him.
"Wild animals? I thought there weren't any on Mars," Lars had asked.
"Oh, there's a few who've escaped captivity. Zoos and such, or pets," the professor explained, but Lars remained incredulous. There was still very little plant material that could support animal life outside the human habitats, and a great many areas filled with toxic gases from the Martian's Bane.
They reached the ships, and the professor called out a greeting, keeping the weapon at his side but partially out of sight. The smugglers from both ships, in the middle of a cargo swap, shouted out in surprise and suddenly everyone was armed, everyone but Lars.
"Ya double crossed us!" one of the captains shouted at the other.
"Me? This isn't my guy!" the other shouted back.
"Enough!" the professor yelled at all of them, waving his pistol at them all. "I need to know exactly how often you make exchanges here, and what you're carrying!"
Lars watched in amazement as the professor stared down two armed smuggler crews, asking them detailed scientific questions about their shipments, about how much they might have spilled accidentally, and a host of other things that might affect the algae. For the most part, the smuggler captains refused to answer any questions, but as the stand-off wore on, they grew impatient and more nervous. After all, they were expecting a quick and easy exchange in a quiet area of Mars where they wouldn't attract any attention, but every minute their two ships were landed together, the risks increased. They began to tentatively give some answers, just to end the interruption without a bloodbath, and then the professor muttered to Lars under his breath.
"Lars, go back to the shuttle, call the Fed garrison," the professor said.
"You sure?" Lars asked, wary.
"Go, I'll be alright," the professor answered, and Lars started to back away from the men with guns.
"Hey where's he going!" one of the captains yelled, and more guns got pointed at Lars.
"To get some testing equipment!" the professor shouted back with a mocking tone, as if it were obvious. "We need to know exactly how many gray your engines put out!"
The professor brandished his weapon, and drew attention back off Lars.
"How many gray our engines put out?" one of the captains shouted back, disbelieving. "What are you, nuts?"
The young student hurried back and away from the two Valkyries. He'd have almost a seven kilometer hike to reach the shuttle, and he moved as quickly as he could once he was sure he wasn't going to be shot in the back.
At the shuttle, Lars called up the local Fed garrison, and tried to explain the situation. The young lieutenant he spoke to promised to send out a couple patrol ships, if only just to see if the panicked young student was just making everything up, and fine him if he was. As soon as the channel was closed, Lars put his breathmask back on and rushed the seven kilometers back to the two valkyries. At the edge of the algae field, Lars grabbed some equipment, so when he returned, they wouldn't know he had done anything other than get testing equipment as the professor had claimed.
To his surprise, Lars found the professor still arguing with the captains of the two valkyries, but the weapons had all been lowered and hardly anyone paid attention to Lars when he arrived. They seemed to be debating the relative impacts of soil compression from landing struts and human feet.
"Ah good, you got what I asked for?" the professor asked when he noticed Lars had returned.
"Yes doctor," Lars replied, and put down the equipment. He had run the whole way, and was breathing hard. There was sweat fogging up his breathmask somewhat, but he didn't dare take it off to wipe away so close to an algae field.
"Alright, look," one of the captains said, with a heavy sigh. "We can't be doing this. We've been here too long."
"Agreed," the other captain said. "Look professor, I'm sorry if we messed up your research, but we can't be caught here. You have to understand."
"Well, your documentation is inadequate, but very well, I'll let you go," the professor said, and handed a small stack of datapads to Lars. Lars looked down at them, and saw they were manifests and maintenance logs.
"Thank you, professor," one of the captains said, and the other waved to his men to resume transferring cargo. The professor stepped back with Lars away from the valkyries.
"Let's go, Lars, hurry now," he said quietly. "Good thinking with the equipment. Did you call the Feds?"
"Yeah, they should be here any minute," Lars said back as they hurried back the way they had come. "How did you get them to lower their weapons and give you their manifests?"
The professor merely shrugged, and then urged Lars to move quicker. On the horizon, two patrol ships were headed towards them.
"So, wild animals, huh?" Lars asked, nodding at the gun still in the professor's hand.
"Oh, you'd be surprised how often this comes in handy," was the reply.
A minute later they heard shouting behind them in the distance, and the two valkyries rushed to get off the ground. Before long, both valkyries were disabled and their crews arrested. The professor had Lars hand over the incriminating manifests and logs to the authorities, and they packed up their gear into the shuttle again to find another algae field to run their experiments.
"And that's why I alway carry this, even on the simple research trips in supposedly safe areas," Lars finished his story, pulling a gun from his coat pocket. "I still don't know how he did it, but if I'm ever on some ecological expedition and run into smugglers, I'll be glad I have it."
Karen laughed. "Wow, what a story."
"We'll be touched down in a couple minutes," Shane Mason, one of the crew members of the Scimitar of Punition said, coming into the room. "Captain says we'll be staying only for a few minutes, so no time for sightseeing, Karen."
"Thanks Shane," Karen said.
"Well, I'd better make sure I've packed everything," Lars said, standing up. Karen got to her feet as well. "It's been nice knowing you, Karen."
"Yeah, you too, Lars," Karen said, nodding. "If you ever get up to Threshold Station, look me up, yeah?"
"Sure thing." Lars smiled, and the two had a somewhat awkward hug, initiated by Karen. Lars went back to his check on his cargo in the ship's hold, and Karen looked out a window at the rapidly approaching planet ahead of them. It was a snowy world, and Karen again thought about jumping off the ship and trying to live there. She stayed at the window until they were back in space again, and then settled in for the rest of her journey.
Threshold Station, such a strange and mysterious place. Days later, Karen got her first look at where she had elected to call home. The only word she could think to describe it was massive. It was black, a floating ball in space with spikes and spires poking out the top. They landed inside a vast docking bay, and Karen said goodbye to the crew she had gotten to know, then grabbed her few possessions and stepped off the ship.
Karen got lost a few times, but a helpful dockworker named Boggs had told her most of the businesses were in an area called Blue Section, and she got there eventually. The station was huge inside, even bigger than she imagined, but there were very few shops or businesses at all. None were willing to hire anyone until the station got more people in it and things got busier. She wandered through lonely, empty corridors, wondering what to do.
"This is a reminder. Cargo Bay 16 is restricted. Station personnel and visitors are not permitted entry," a voice came from a speaker above her.
"Oh!" Karen said, stopping suddenly. "Am I in the wrong place? Uh... hello?"
A hologram appeared next to Karen in the corridor. It was a man in simple uniform she didn't recognize from any military. "Can I help you?"
"I'm sorry. Is this Cargo Bay 16? I may have gotten lost," Karen said.
"That message was broadcast station-wide, it was not directed at you," the hologram replied. "Can I help you find something?"
"I need a job," Karen said, and shrugged.
"Most station personnel positions have already been filled," the hologram said. "You just came aboard on the Scimitar of Punition, correct?"
Karen nodded. "How did you know?"
"I am a created sophont, and this is my station," the hologram replied.
"Oh, well nice to meet you..."
The hologram bowed slightly. "Perhaps the station's bar is in need of assistance."
"Thanks," Karen said, smiling, then raised her eyebrows. "Where is that?"
"It's not far," hologram said, and gave directions.
Karen was walking along a few minutes later when she heard another announcement over the public address system.
"Security and maintenance to Section Blue, Level 7, Corridor C," said the voice she now recognized as the station's intelligence.
A few minutes after that, she finally reached the bar and almost ran into a man dressed in black and wearing a mask. She stepped back, startled, but he paid no attention to her and headed off towards a lift across the corridor. Having just seen a real live ninja, she stepped into the bar and saw a man tending it in a black hooded cloak, with a very convincing skeleton mask. For a moment Karen wondered if there was some sort of costume party going on. There was a scythe resting along the back wall, and when the bartender turned to look at her, she saw nothing behind his eye sockets but the inside of a skull. She gasped, and then turned to see several patrons in normal work clothes enjoying their meals or drinks as if nothing at all was going on.
"Aloha Karen," the man greeted her from behind the bar. The voice was odd, reminiscent of bones grinding together.
"How do you know my name?" Karen asked, taking an involuntary step back. The man made no response, and Karen stepped closer to the bar. "Did the station tell you I was looking for a job?"
"A job?" the man asked.
"Y-yes," Karen said, staring at the mask. Was it somehow holographic, or worn on his head? "I'm sorry... but... what's with the costume?"
"Costume?" the man asked.
"Yes, I mean... you're not..."
"I am Death," the man replied.
"Like... really Death?" Karen asked.
"It's Death," an android said two bar stools down. Karen noticed it for the first time, and frowned when she saw the drink in its hand. Her mouth opened slowly.
"Riiiiight..." Karen said slowly, still frowning as she turned back to the man dressed as a skeleton in a cloak before her. "Um... Are you hiring?"
"Of course," Death said, after some pause, as if things suddenly became obvious. "As a proprietor I should have employees."
"Oh thank you, thank you!" Karen gushed. "I have experience. I waited tables on Altia. I won't let you down... uh... boss. I... I can start right away..."
"Okay," Death said.
"Great," Karen said. "Is there somewhere I can put down my things? I just got here, I don't have an apartment yet. I wanted to get a job first."
"There is a storage room," Death said, and reached out a long, boney hand to point towards a door in back. Karen stared at it a moment, shocked but fascinated. She nodded and looked towards where he was pointing.
"Thanks... boss," Karen said, and went to put down her bags. When Karen returned, she looked around the bar a bit, then went over to talk to Death again. "So... how do things work here?"
Death stared at her, at least he would have, if he had eyes. Instead, his sockets, his... voids... were pointed at her. Death, perhaps, seemed confused by the question.
"I mean, do I bring the orders to you, and you make the drinks, or what?"
"You will bring orders, then serve," Death replied.
"Okay, great," Karen said, nodding quickly. "I'll uh, I'll get right to work then."
Karen moved about the bar, remembering to smile, and collected empty glasses and plates. She brought new drinks to the human patrons, but then one of the androids raised its hand to get her attention. She went over to the table, a bit confused, but still showing a cheerful face. She looked back and forth between the two androids at the table.
"Uh, all done there with those drinks?" Karen asked nervously. They were sitting there with full glasses.
"Yes, thank you," one of the androids said. "This unit will have a glass of sherry. The other one will have sweetened black tea."
"Sure," Karen said, grinning wide. "I'll get those right for you, then."
Karen worked for hours, with no sign at all from her boss when her shift was supposed to end. Eventually, she went to Death to ask directly if she could leave.
"Is my shift over? I guess we never talked about my schedule," Karen said.
"You may go," Death replied.
"Okay. Um, when should I return to work tomorrow? Like lunchtime? Like today?" Karen asked.
"Okay," Death replied. Karen stared at his skull for a moment. He hadn't moved his jaw, and she wondered how he even made a sound without vocal cords. The voice just seemed to appear inside her mind.
"Well, alright then," Karen eventually said. "Thanks for hiring me, again, and... well I had a good first day. I'll see you tomorrow, boss."
"Goodbye Karen," Death said, and Karen went to the storage room to get her things.
The station intelligence was helpful finding her an apartment in Red Section, and it took her all of five minutes to move in. There hadn't been many customers, but the few there seemed grateful not to have to deal with the freaky bartender directly, and tipped well. Still, Karen hoped business would pick up soon, or she'd really eat into her last remaining savings.
Karen relaxed with her shoes off on the couch, glad the apartment came already furnished. This new life would take some getting used to, but she felt... good. For the first time in years, Karen felt at home. She thought about an old man she'd met on her homeworld, and the stories she'd already accumulated in her travels. She thought about a friend she'd lost to senseless violence, and a new one she'd met by happenstance on a long trip through space. Most of all she thought about the adventure that lay before her, and the people she might meet in her new, rather interesting workplace.
"Well, I'm not studying rocks," Karen whispered.