Spring was certainly in the air, and it brought a rare smile to Khantun Timur Raige’s face. With the mildly damp weather came the conclusion of another year of cadet training. By now, the latest round of War Games was concluding somewhere in the cliffs just outside the city. She had checked in a day before and silently observed as the Blue team appeared ready to triumph, but the overnight report showed the Red team had out-maneuvered them. If the Green team was smart, they’d let them fight it out and slip through to win.
Within weeks, there would be the graduation ceremony, and another few dozen Rangers would don their uniforms and get to work. It was one of her favorite times of year; the promise of greatness lingered in the air along with one of renewal and rededication to the ideals of mankind. It amazed her that it was nearly a millennium since her ancestors left Earth and started afresh. Despite unexpected adversity and a harsher than anticipated environment, they have grown strong. It fell to her, as Prime Commander, to keep them strong and the planet well defended.
Since assuming the office sixteen years earlier, almost every waking hour had been spent focused on making the planet battle ready, prepared, and wary. The last Ursa attack was back in the 880s so she felt another assault was coming over the next few decades. By now they were expected like the hundred-year weather events, and just like they had to construct buildings with storms and earthquakes in mind, so, too, did they have to ensure there were shelters for the growing population and that the satellite warning system was constantly maintained and enhanced. Defensive satellites had been deployed since the last attack, so the hope was to winnow the number of Skrel that dared come near Nova Prime. Such preparations were in disarray when she took the post from Nathan Kincaid, who never should have accepted the promotion in the first place. His five-year tenure was a mess, and when she was given the top job she made preparation her priority. It took time and effort, and more than a little cajoling of the Savant’s comptroller general, but they managed.
When she took the job, becoming another in the long line of Raiges to hold the post, she wanted to prioritize the Rangers and her life. Knowing how all consuming the job was, she quickly arranged to have a child, never publicly disclosing who the father might be, so she would also know motherhood. Brom was born a healthy boy and grew up surrounded by the extended family, which helped raise him. Once that was ticked off her list, she made certain the Rangers would be her priority. This often meant Brom was brought to visit her after classes since she didn’t frequently make time to return home. He’d do homework while she conducted meetings or as they toured the troops around the spreading number of communities. Now a teen, he was already eyeing his own application to the Rangers.
Raige focused on the plans for the anchorages, the safety valves that were finally constructed over the last century on inhabitable worlds found in the Carina–Sagittarius arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. Heliopolis was opened for use four years earlier, and she was scheduled to make an inspection tour later in the year. She had managed to visit Lycia and Iphitos but needed to arrange a grand tour of all six. Brom would learn much by seeing them all, she noted. Any one of the anchorages promised to offer refuge to the nearly five million inhabitants of Nova Prime, but the one thing they still lacked were enough ships to ferry them all, let alone the wildlife.
With Heliopolis now ticked off her endless list, she needed to meet with Savant Burch and with Tähtiin Industries’ president Nelson Ben-Greiner. Plans for stockpiling the material and for rapid construction had to be the next priority. With the anchorage program at an end, for now, there should be plenty of manpower and resources available for the task. She paused in the shade of the seating area on the grand plaza and tapped in the note on her naviband.
Her last stop before entering Rangers headquarters was at her favorite street vendor, where she would enjoy a hot tea and the latest street gossip. Talking to Raj always made her feel a little more connected with what was on the minds of the people she was sworn to protect. In uniform, she so rarely had a chance to hear the unvarnished truth from the citizenry so she soaked up what she could from reliable sources, beginning most mornings with Raj.
“Here you go,” he said, leaning over his teapot, which was simmering with something cinnamon-like. “It’s just come in from the tea fermentators’ guild, something new.”
“I want my usual oolong,” Raige complained, accepting the cup anyway.
“Try something new,” he instructed. “Live a little.”
“At least it smells good,” she said, letting the aroma waft around her. “So, what’s new?”
“That tea, for one,” Raj said with a grin. He was nearly seventy and had grown and sold tea his entire life, starting at a colony upriver but moving to the city when his children were adults. He’d been selling tea to Raige long before she was named PC and therefore was a trusted companion.
“The new performance of Let Me Help is supposed to be good. Mouly is said to be superb in the lead.”
Raige grunted at that, not one for the arts, but if it was revived, she was glad to know a respected work from the last century was at least well done.
“There’s been some talk that people want to permanently settle on Olympus,” Raj said. “It’s that Safe Movement talk all over again.”
She nodded at the memory of the moment the first anchorage opened: There were requests by many to relocate and colonize. Right now, the anchorages were exploratory outposts and emergency evacuation points. The next spiral arm over was a more difficult move than hopping to the next continent. The proposal had bubbled up now and then, but the triumvirate leadership quickly shut down the discussion. Hope (or was it fear) springs eternal.
As a reward, she took a deep drink of the new tea, which had cooled enough. It had a nice, spicy taste, maybe too sweet for regular consumption but not bad at all.
“This is nice, thanks, Raj, but I’ll be sticking with my usual,” Raige told him and headed directly for the Rangers’ base of operations. She hadn’t gone more than three meters when her naviband buzzed and vibrated. A quick glance showed all red. Something major was happening.
She rushed inside, handing off the unfinished cup of tea to the security guard at the entrance, who snapped to attention the moment he spotted her.
Heading up to her office, wishing she could just be teleported there, the PC studied the incoming alert. The satellite system had detected Skrel ships approaching. They were early; she wasn’t expecting them for some time. That in itself concerned her at the same time she was pleased the upgraded surveillance system actually worked and they now had some time to prepare.
Skipping her office, she went to the tactical command center where all the feeds were received and analyzed. As she entered, the lighting was already dim and there was an undercurrent of voices communicating with others. Holographic screens showed a map of the solar system with red lights denoting the satellites. Huge purple lights at the system’s edge marked the Skrel. She counted at least six ships, maybe more.
“Situation?” she called.
Only then did the majority of the staff notice the PC was among them. Her adjutant, Lieutenant Strongbow, approached with a tablet gripped in both hands.
“They appeared on the screen ten minutes ago and are estimated to reach Nova Prime in three days, six hours, fourteen minutes.”
“They’re in a hurry,” Raige said to the tall, trim brunette. Strongbow knew better than to try bantering and kept it to just the facts.