"So we are processing the discharge orders for Chief Petty Officer Cheyenne Walker, Culinary specialist Gregory Martens, and Ensign Mark Cummings," Lannister's superior was saying through the holodisplay. Martens had opted to take the medical discharge and start his life anew. Walker and Cummings would have finished their enlistment at the end of this mission anyway.
Lannister watched how the man's form glowed around the edges. They were in a small office he'd been given for these conference. There was a pause. "Umm, yes, sir, that is correct," Lannister replied, trying to bring his attention to the present.
"And we've extended medical leave for the following..."
Lannister fought to pay attention as they ran through the short list of soldiers who still needed attention from the consortium healers. Lannister's own name and Master of Arms James Fox were top on that list.
"The rest of the crew should be able to be processed normally when their leave is up," his superior was saying. "They will have new assignments waiting when they return."
"Yes, sir," Lannister said. Two new forms appeared at the edge of the holo projection and sat next his superior. One was Admiral Leftwig, a two star rear admiral. The other was his state department go between. Lannister sat up straighter and snapped a salute. "Admiral."
"Captain Lannister," the admiral replied.
"We're wondering if you've thought about your career with the navy?" his superior asked.
Lannister swallowed hard. He had, a lot. Unfortunately it hinged on two things that he didn't dare ask openly, especially not through a holographic communication controlled by the consortium. Would he still be given top secret clearance? Would he ever command a ship again? He wasn't sure he wanted a desk job. Not after being in command for so long. It was what he lived for.
"Sir," he started hesitantly. "I've been giving it some thought. But I'm not quite sure..."
"Your wondering if you will command a ship again," the Admiral guessed.
"Yes, sir," Lannister admitted.
"It's not likely that we will be commissioning new warships anytime soon," the admiral said. "But it just so happens that we do have one new vessel in America's fleet and you have some unique qualifications for the job."
Lannister looked at them, his face blank. "I'm not following."
"Shoshone station," was the reply. "It will be jointly controlled. We are putting together our team as we speak. But we really need someone familiar with working alongside the consortium, someone with some understanding of the kinds of technical and cultural differences we might face. Can we count on you?"
"It's a desk job," his superior said. "I know you hate the thought. But think about it, it's a desk job among the stars. And it's quite the honor."
"That it is," Lannister said. "I'll think about it. Wait, no, I won't think about it. I'll just say yes, right now."
"Excellent, state department has a couple of guys up on the base ship now. We'll send one around with the details."
######
Cheyenne stood in the center of the hotel room, looking at the viewscreen on the wall. Zeta sat at the table and watched on. Lana had gone shopping for lunch and Janda had taken the day off to see his new girlfriend.
"The State Department is sending someone," Cheyenne was saying into the view screen. On screen was her mother's face, on Skype.
"You know I hate flying," mom said.
"Yes, I've explained. The guy, it'll be the same one from the press conference, is going the whole way with you," Cheyenne replied.
"I don't know about this..." she continued.
"Mom, my kids need to be there."
Mom mumbled something incoherent.
"I haven't seen them in weeks, Mom. I know how anxious you get, but please, promise me you won't back out. Or at least send them with," she looked over at the couch.
"Jack," Zeta supplied.
"Jack," Cheyenne said. "Send the kids with him."
"Alone?"
"If you can't come."
"I'll come," she growled. Cheyenne shook her head. She knew her mom was suspicious that Cheyenne wanted the kids alone, that she didn't plan to send them back. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd be tempted.
"Good, I can't wait to see them. How were they this morning?"
"Fine," mom grumbled, not wanting to be diverted from the argument just yet. "I hate flying, though. And you aren't still considering..."
"I'm talking to the state department about my custody of my children," Cheyenne said pointedly. "And about having them live on the station."
"James don't like the idea," mom said, her mouth tight.
"And I wonder how he found out," Cheyenne replied, her own mouth drawing tight, her face grim. Mom at least had the decency to blush and look away.
"He's in treatment you know," she said. "You could give him a second chance."
"I gave him plenty of chances."
"Your father..." mom broke off and looked away. "I never left him. I thought I raised you better."
"Dad never followed through on his promises either. I saw that. I saw what that did to us. I'm not putting my kids through that."
"No, you are going to drag the babies into space. That's so much better. Be out there where it isn't safe."
"Mrs. Walker?" Zeta put in and she stood. "I grew up on stations. In fact, we spent a fair amount of time on solar stations, not unlike the one called Shoshone. They are perfectly safe, they have facilities for educations, entertainment, everything your kids need, really."
"Stations?" mom said.
Zeta blushed and looked down. "We moved a lot," she murmured.
Cheyenne had to admit whatever she thought of her mother, the woman was a genius at spotting people's emotional hot buttons.
"When you come, I'll show you around. Then maybe you'll have a different opinion. It's nothing like you think," Cheyenne said.
"How do you know what I think?" Mom complained.
"Because it's what I used to think, too," she snapped back. She shook her head. "Anyway, on the subject of James, have you heard anything?"
"He's out of treatment," she said. "He called. He's trying to get this house situation set up."
Please, god, let it take time. Cheyenne's newest fear was that he'd just up and come for the kids and mom would let him, custody not withstanding. And stuck up here, what could Cheyenne do? She could institute a custody case, but that could take months, if the courts cooperated. She shook her head to clear it.
"I've got to go, mom. Just promise me you'll come to the banquet and you'll bring the kids. Please."
"I hate flying."
"I know, please, promise?"
"You can't take the kids into space, Cheyenne, it's insane."
"We'll discuss that later. I just want to see them. Promise?"
"Promise," mom muttered.
She disappeared and was replaced by the diplomat, Jack. He was sitting at a desk back earth side. He shuffled a pile of papers in front of him as he talked. "Well, I've done some snooping. I don't have clearance to check anything that's not public record, so I can't say much for certain. No motions have been filed as of right now."
"But if he's out of treatment, he could be getting a lawyer," Cheyenne protested.
"Yes," Jack admitted. "But lawyers cost money. I've checked into a few of the free legal aid places in Norfolk and most don't take this kind of case. So unless he's got some money, I doubt he's got a lawyer. Even with one, and with a motion filed, it's only a matter of time. Even judging from his public records, I can't see a judge finding him the better parent, unless..."
"Unless I get unlucky and the judge is conservative or has some beef with the consortium?" Cheyenne guessed.
"Yeah, something like that. On it's merits, this is an open and shut case. And Zeta is right, there will be plenty of kids up there. The Shoshone, it's mostly young that are coming."
Cheyenne snorted. Jack paused, looking at her. "Sorry," she said. "One of our master of arms told us his eighty seven year old grandma is moving up. God, can you imagine?"
"Why not?" Zeta asked.
"Because everyone on earth thinks going into space means airlocks, weightlessness and constant danger," Jack said with a smile. "Anyway, I've a meeting in ten minutes." He lifted an envelope. "I've everything here. The kids updated passports, the plane tickets, everything. I can run it down to Norfolk tomorrow and drop it off."
"Don't," Cheyenne warned him. "She'll just lose it. Keep it until you go get them."
He gave her a thoughtful look and then nodded. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Anyway, I promise, I'll do my best to get them all there. I know how much it means to you."
"Thanks," Cheyenne told him.
When he was gone, Cheyenne went to the kitchen area with Zeta and sat at the table. "So you moved a lot as a kid? If you don't mind me asking, that is." She felt obligated somehow, to undo whatever damage mom had managed to inflict.
"Yeah," Zeta said softly. She looked up at Cheyenne. "You don't know. How much do you know about Squids?"
"Nothing. And I don't even really know what, or how, to ask."
"It's okay," Zeta said. "We're a bioengineered race. I'm half human, half C'thon."
"I didn't know that possible."
"It wasn't until recently. And its forbidden."
"Forbidden?"
"Bioengineering sentient beings is illegal. It's one of the deepest taboos of genetics science. Nobody does this. There have been tragedies."
"Then why?"
Zeta shrugged. "Because. Humans and C'thon are socially very similar. Friendships and even love aren't that uncommon, even though our biology is incompatible. Most couples know this and accept this. They can be childless or they can foster, a human child or a C'thon."
Lana came in with a bag of groceries. She paused and kissed Cheyenne's forehead before heading to the counter to unload her bag.
"But I guess it's nature. Some couples want a child that represents both of them. So someone came up with a protocol. It's illegal but that doesn't stop everyone."
"And what happens then? I mean people know, surely."
"Yeah, and the protocol isn't perfect," Zeta said brushing the tentacle-like appendages on her face. "These are the obvious thing. But I have other health problems."
"The blending of incompatible DNA is nothing to trifle with," Lana said as she sat down. There was a coldness in her voice that Cheyenne had rarely heard before, and she knew Lana didn't approve.
"I had my first health crisis at five," Zeta said. "Mom took me and we went to another system. We couldn't stay with Dad anymore."
"Because as soon as you went to the healers," Lana supplied. "They'd report your condition and he'd be arrested."
Zeta nodded.
"Some of the healers were understanding about it, others not so much."
"Your parents put them in a terrible situation," Lana said. "On one hand you have a patient, a sentient being that you must do your best to treat. But on the other hand you are made to be an accomplice in a serious crime."
Zeta blushed and stared at her feet.
"I'm sure that's how it feels to you," Cheyenne said, putting an arm on Lana's. "But to a five year old who is sick."
Lana blushed, too and her face softened. "Of course, it must have been terrible. To see your parents accused of a crime..."
"And to know that you are that crime," Zeta finished. "It was tough. And people's attitudes... that first station, no one was friendly. Mom was the woman with a squid child. She was smart, educated. So was Dad. But once their child was discovered no one wanted to hire them. They both had to work public economy, whatever day labor presented itself.
"We weren't the only ones by far. There are thousands of squids, in small groups here and there. We heard about a station that was pretty liberal, and had a fair sized squid population. Dad could come, too, and we were a family again."
Tears stood in Zeta's eyes. Lana, despite her earlier coldness, slid next to Zeta and put an arm around her shoulder. "I can guess," she said gently. "Until your next episode."
Zeta shook her head. "And then the cycle starts over again, traveling to another system, another station. We are a mobile race, squids, always on the move."
"My home world," Lana said. "Has none of this. There are no C'thon. No squids. I thought the ethics, the politics of this were simple enough. But to see it first hand is different. I am sorry."
Zeta nodded and accepted her apology.
"I will make us all some lunch. Then maybe a walk for my patient." Lana stood and went to the kitchen. As she worked she said. "What I don't understand, Zeta, is there are only a few of your kind, relative to the rest of the consortium. Yet you are here, I've seen maybe a dozen on the base ship."
"Yes, and many more are coming. It is, I guess, hope," Zeta said. "Some of it is my own doing," she said with pride in her voice. "Me, a diplomat." She smiled at Cheyenne.
"A high honor, but well deserved, if I recall correctly," Lana said. "You had high marks at university."
"Yes, but for one of my kind, I think its the highest any squid has come in the meritocracy. Many of my kind read it as a sign, that we would be seen, treated differently here in this galaxy. But even before my appointment there were rumors. In fact I wouldn't have ever had the guts to apply for the position if I hadn't heard the whispers."
"What whispers?" Cheyenne asked.
"Well, it is well known that this whole project is heavily influenced by the Parabrahmadas."
"The what?"
"They are a vatari family," Lana explained as she sat food in front of them. "Shaiva, Vaisava..."
"The princess Sarasvat," Zeta finished. "We heard whispers that she was already being pegged for this project, two years ago, before the announcement."
"But she was in seclusion for the last how many thousand years?" Lana said.
"With her uncle Shaiva," Zeta insisted. "Learning the divine language. No one knows more about physics, the divine language or world building than Shaiva. And he's been teaching Sarasvat."
"That makes sense, but what does that have to do with your kind?"
"Agni Parabrahmada, Sarasvat's father, said, 'we must not let our feelings about how these beings came to be, cloud our feelings about them now that they are here.'" Zeta appealed to Cheyenne. "It's not much, as acceptance goes, but it's far more than any Vatari has publicly said about my kind."
"Agni is a soft touch," Lana said. She paused. "And so is his daughter, or so they say."
"But tough as nails," Zeta said. "She's proven that many times. They say the hopes and future of the consortium lay with her."
"The consortium is larger than any one person," Lana replied.
"Still, for as long lived as the Vatari are, the great ones are old. And what of this new generation?"
"They have accepted that it is the consortium now, not the Vatari empire. Their influence wanes, and that is as it should be."
"Politically, yes. Everyone would agree. We are all equals now. We have the same voice. But still, do none aspire to greatness?"
"Sarasvat does," Lana said.
"She does." There was a feverish light in Zeta's eyes. "And this galaxy will be where she leaves her mark. This project. It will be her crowning glory. And we will be here for it, we will see it built with our own eyes."
"What are you guys building?" Cheyenne asked.
"Everything," Zeta replied, "you'll see. Now you have earth, a great planet. But in a generation there will be outposts on Mars, Venus, you name it. There will be a new station, a big one, just a few light years away. There is a whole section with a dozen of habitable planets and there will be cities on all of them."
Cheyenne laughed. "It sounds exciting, I'll give you that."