Refugees on Urloon. Melissa Aires

Refugees on Urloon - Melissa Aires


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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.”

       Chapter 2

      A few weeks later Liam sat at his desk, still handling decisions about the future of the Toulous’s crew on Urloon. It looked like the crew was making the hard decisions. Some, those without tight family ties, were taking the adaption for Urloon citizenship and life in the domes. Others, in communication with their families and homeworlds, were choosing the farming option, their hopes high an expedition would make it to Urloon in the next few years.

      The Urloon military was looking over the ship. They all


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