Chapter 1

This is an unedited first look at my next project! Scene details may change before the final draft, but the gist of the story is there. You may find the odd typo or a sentence that doesn’t read quite right, but all that will be polished up before publication.

If you enjoy it, leave a comment below and tell me what you think!

The problem with real heroes was they never came home—not for level exams, not for Founding Day, not even when Mother cried at night.

They didn’t get to sleep in either. Ever. Kaffy smooshed herself deeper into the stuffy old mattress. Block Captain Hesper’s drill cadence pounded off the steep granite cliffs outside their home, marking time until her little rebellion expired.

Be a real hero, a young Tellie Strong demanded in bold print, dressed in her CDF-issued white and gray uniform on the fading poster plastered above Kaffy’s bunk. The stormy peak of Mount Dodecoron loomed large on the poster’s background. Mind your parents. Help your neighbors. Join the Youth Block Drill today! 

Old hard prints of her and her father kept the poster’s curled edges from peeling further. They were taken so long ago, back when she was littler. She looked so happy, just a little beta and her proud father. No block drill. No Sammy—not yet, anyway. Mother seemed happier then, too. Before he moved them all to Diacad Cliffs then left home again.

She’d wanted to take down that stupid poster a hundred times. Nobody mentioned the block captains kept score. Or that enough demerits would get you the lash. But she wouldn’t dare risk tearing the old prints. They were priceless, no matter how angry they sometimes made her. Mostly, they just made her sad. A far away dream that got harder and harder to remember.

Up top, the soft purr of Sammy’s dozing was almost soothing compared to the clamor from the block captains. How the dummy slept through it, she’d never know. He better enjoy it while he could. He’d make his gamma levels soon enough, then the posters would goad him into signing up.

Ms. Strong’s lingering stare bored down on her, but she didn’t want to get up. Block drill had already started. She was late again. One more mark and it would be her turn for the lash. Duray and Nemor would love to see that. Then she’d have to listen to Hesper and Mother go on about what it means to be a proper Aegian. Again.

She just wanted to stay there and forget the world outside. To listen to the reassuring sounds of Sammy’s snoring. Daydream about how strong and beautiful she’d be some day, just like Ms. Strong. And to remember the way things used to be.

The rapid open and close of their hab’s front door vibrated through the metal floor. For a split-second, Aegia’s howling storm winds forced their way inside. At least that meant a good air day. Block drill was hard enough when the oxygen levels were in range.

“Momma’s home,” Sammy whispered in his usual anxious tone. She’d missed him waking up. What she wouldn’t give for just one more minute, to remember the important stuff. But not today. Not ever.

“I know.”

Kaffy sprung from the bed, the cold of the metal floor rising through her bare feet. She pulled a fresh jumpsuit off the wall and crawled inside, the magnetic zipper clicking close along her midline. A quick swish of mouth wash from the sink and it was time to face Mother’s wraith.

A narrow hall led to the common room. Mother waited in the middle of it, fists pressed against hips, her neon orange coveralls stained black and smelling like hot hull plate. A rebreather dangled from her belt, the visor dotted with condensation.

Her eyes turned stormy. “Kaffereine Aiolita Br—”

“I know, Mother.” 

Kaffy wound past the table toward the front door. Even with her back turned, she could feel Mother’s gaze boring into her like a rock beam. She tried to ignore it, pressing her feet into her boots and clipping them tight. The front door hissed open when she lingered too close, and Dodecoron greeted her with another gust of storm winds.

Mother said something, but the words disappeared amid the sudden gale. Block Captain Hesper’s drill cadence faded, too. It didn’t matter what either of them said. Either way, Kaffy was in big trouble. It was like Father told her: your mountains never got any smaller. Up and over was the only way.

The door cycled closed. Kaffy took a breath, but Mother spoke first.

“Your father’s coming home today.”

Father. Today. The words seemed to stick inside her head. Father hadn’t been home in almost six solar orbits—half as long as she’d been alive. She was still just a beta when they’d taken those prints, when he’d come home to tell her he’d re-enlisted in the Marines. Again.

There’s bad guys in the Cradle, Kaff, he’d said, a muscly arm tight around her shoulder as she bawled into his chest. Gotta stop ‘em out there so they can’t follow us home.

The next day, he was gone. Kaffy had sat atop their new hab block roof for hours, the Diacad Cliffs at her her back, watching orbital shuttles leave the spaceport through scratchy red eyes. Time seemed to stop after that. In her head, it felt like forever ago. In her heart, she was still sitting up there, waving goodbye.

“Today?” she finally said, tears brimming in her eyes, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips.

“Yes, Kaffy, today. Thirty days leave.” Mother’s face softened, but only a little. “PR’s been ordered to muster positions, so I need you to pick up our lots and make sure your room is clean before he gets home.”

Mind your parents, Tellie Strong sang in the back of her mind, just like on the net feeds in the allotment center. Hitching a thumb’s up while tossing back her long blue hair.

“When?” Kaffy managed, working out the transport schedules in her head. Four transports per hour, six hours round-trip to Aegia Prime. Except the expeds usually docked at Two-Alpha, so maybe just five hours depending what ship he came in on. “If we could get to Ring Two by thirteen-hundred, we can watch his transport land!”

“Are you listening, girl?” Mother snapped, the exhaustion creeping in around her eyes. “I’ve been called up. It’s probably just a muster drill, but Twelfth help me, that means you have to take care of things until I’m relieved.”

“Relieved?” Kaffy rolled her eyes and huffed. Stupid Planetary Reserve and their stupid training exercises. “Father’s finally coming home and I’m stuck in line for lots.”

“You want your father to eat, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mother. Thank you, Mother.” Kaffy stiffened, a half-hearted stand-at-attention, her smile all teeth and no curl as she spun back toward the front door. 

Head bowed, she reached into a tiny nook carved into the granite doorway. The little reliquary was cool, as was the tiny statuette of the Twelfth’s likeness that lay within. Father had said the Twelfth would always bring him home to her. That Marines held a special place in Her heart. Kaffy pocketed the tiny statuette, whispering, “And thank you, Holy Mother.”

“Go on, Kaffy,” Mother called from her bedroom. “It’s oh-seven-hundred. That line isn’t getting any shorter.”

“Aye, ma’am!” 

Kaffy threw a mock salute and thumbed the entry pad. The front door opened and a wall of cold air met her, smelling of granite and cliff runoff. Like home. Like Father. 

She breathed deep, tasting the thin air. Definitely a good air day. But she’d get in trouble if someone caught her without a rebreather. She grabbed one off a nearby hook and let it hang precariously from her waist strap before stepping out the door.

Outside, the roar of the storm asserted itself. No rain, thank the Twelfth, but plenty of wind and thunder. Familiar storm clouds roiled in the sky above. The gray, billowing mass seemed close enough to touch. It reminded her of boiling water, or mating rock snakes. A wall of gray that hid all of Aegia from the bad guys Father had talked about.

The Diacad Cliffs rose for a hundred meters behind her hab block. Carved out of Dodecoron’s granite surface, they were four kilometers downslope from the summit where the air was mostly breathable. Any higher and it was too thin. Below the downslope mines, and it was too thick. If the sky ever cleared, which it almost never did, you’d better have a rebreather.

Kaffy turned downslope from the cliffs, away from the sound of Block Captain Hesper’s drill call. “One-two-three, one! One-two-three, two!” 

She smiled at the thought of those idiot boys sweating their brains out from Hesper’s intense drilling, but the joy was short lived. The block captain’s lash would hurt worse than a dozen training circuits. But the thought of disappointing Father stung the most.

Her steps slowed. Maybe she should go back and take her licks. Get it over with before Father even hit atmo. But she was already going to be in line most of the morning, maybe longer. Sometimes the allotment centers ran out. Get whipped and go hungry? No, thank you.

The narrow side street opened up into a wide transit lane joining the settlements of Diacad Cliffs and Corongaet to Vestebrae’s industrial rings and busy urban center. Holoprojected traffic signals directed transit cars and heavy cargo sleds along the straight thoroughfare. 

More than a kilometer downslope, Aegia’s capitol settlement shone a pale amber beneath the storm clouds. Retro rocket plumes flashed above the distant spaceport as another shuttle descended through the heavy cloud layer.

Kaffy began to jog, ignoring the tightness in her chest, her boots pounding against the granite walkway. Proper Aegians didn’t slow down for anything. And Father might be on that very transport, just hours away from thirty days together with her.

Behind a wall of cargo sleds, the allotment center rose above Diacad’s administrative block—a thin, featureless tower of concrete and steel connected to a massive quonset warehouse. Near the edge of the installation, a white flag whipped atop a long pole. In its center was a stylized black vortex, the symbol of the Cradle nebula. Three silver rings, one for each of the Three Colonies, clustered in the vortex’s heart.

A long line of colonists snaked from the warehouse’s open bay doors and through the center gates, then disappeared around the next street corner. Kaffy let out a sigh. She really was going to be there all day. She would do it, though, a hundred times over. Father was coming home.

She walked along the fence, fingers catching on the metal links as she made her way to the back of the line. The tiny statuette warmed in her grip, her thumb tracing its well-worn edges, filling her heart with more thanks.

“Lady Kaffereine, is that you?” 

Madam Ulwin peeked her wrinkled nose around an off-duty Navy officer. She had always called Kaffy Lady Kaffereine, something about her old-timey name. It was embarrassing, but Mother insisted Mrs. Ulwin meant well. Father insisted Kaffy mind her elders. Help your neighbors, Ms. Strong would say.

“Madam Ulwin.” Kaffy bobbed a shy nod, her gaze moving from the officer’s rank pips to the old woman’s craggy face.

“Come here, good child.” She beckoned Kaffy closer with thin, knobby fingers. “Keep an old woman company on such a beautiful day.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kathy fell in line next to Mrs. Ulwin, ignoring the angry glares of those still stuck in line behind her. The old boulder might’ve saved her an hour, even two.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Worked a double at the shipyard.” Kaffy shrugged. “She has PR muster.”

“And here you are, fetching lots. Such a good child,” Mrs. Ulwin said, squeezing Kaffy’s shoulder. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

“How are you, Mrs. Ulwin?”

“Hungry and cold.” The old woman snorted and tugged at the young officer’s elbow. “Trying to talk this fine young man into taking me home.”

The officer, a Navy lieutenant if she’d counted the pips right, glanced back and gave them both a deep-throated, “Ma’am.”

Kaffy’s cheeks began to burn. He was handsome, and far too young for Mrs. Ulwin. Talk about rock snakes. And Kaffy was far too young for him. She was five orbits away from her eps levels, and all the boys her age were idiots, anyway. Still, she smiled and nodded as the young officer turned back around.

She giggled. Making eyes at a Navy skeeg. What would Father think about that?

“Any word from your father?” Mrs. Ulwin asked, her eyes still lingering on the lieutenant.

“Oh, yes!” Kaffy caught herself too late, her voice suddenly loud in the relative quiet of early morning. She turned to Mrs. Ulwin, still smiling, and lowered her voice. “He’s coming home today. Thirty days leave!”

“Your father.” The old woman grinned, showing pale yellow teeth. “Now there’s a proper Aegian.”

Gross. Father was handsome, of course, but only in that fatherly way. Not in the rock snakes way. The old boulder had a one-track mind.

Mrs. Ulwin nudged Kaffy forward, chuckling softly. “I’m only teasing, good girl,” she said, shuffling up to join her. “You should see your face. Red as Respitian sand.”

“When did you ever see Respitia?” Kaffy asked.

“Never saw it personally, mind you,” Mrs. Ulwin said, her gaze moving to the clouds above. “But my Trevor had been, several times.”

“Really?” Kaffy met her gaze for the first time in a while. She didn’t know anyone who’d ever been to the other colonies before. Not even Father. High orbit, of course. The patrol lanes, definitely. But Respitia and Vestia? They always seemed so far away, like they could be make believe.

“He captained a cargo hauler.” The old woman raised a finger skyward, beaming.

“I thought ship captains were rich?”

“Most are.” Mrs. Ulwin let out a sigh. “Twelfth keep him, my Trevor wasn’t a particularly good one. Lost no more.”

Kaffy dropped her chin, eyes fixed on her boots. “Lost no more,” she repeated, almost a whisper. What kind of man could possibly have kept Mrs. Ulwin entertained? Maybe it wasn’t ships, but Mr. Ulwin must’ve been good at something.

“Kaffereine Bresto!”

The deep basso of Block Captain Hesper’s voice ripped Kaffy from the solemn moment. The big man stood there, as tall and wide as Dodecoron, sweat ringing his jumpsuit collar. Nemor stood there, too, rail thin next to their block captain. He clasped Training Block E’s guidon firmly against his shoulder, the tiny red flag at its tip trembling in the storm winds. Duray appeared seconds later, still huffing and puffing from drill practice. Together, they stared at her, grinning their cruel disapproval.

“Missed you again today, Bresto,” Nemor spat.

“Yeah.” Duray held up three fingers. “You know what that means.”

“At ease, boys,” Hesper said. The coiled leather dangled ominously from his utility belt. “Lots are important, aren’t they, Bresto?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ll get the matter of your attendance sorted out tomorrow, won’t we?” Hesper’s mouth opened and closed, as if to chew his words. 

“Yes, sir.”

Kaffy was so dead. Hesper was going to whip her in the morning, probably in front of Father, who might very well whip her again. Sergeant Ned Bresto might be her father, but Mrs. Ulwin spoke the truth: he was a proper Aegian.

Hot tears stung her eyes. Humiliation and disappointment burned in the back of her throat. The boys snickered at her, slapping each other on the shoulder, which only made it worse.

A low moan broke the sky above them. The sound grew in pitch and intensity, no longer a moan but a sad, lonely wail. The sound stabbed into Kaffy’s ears, leaving a sharp whine that dulled everything else.

Stupid alarms. Stupid Planetary Reserve training. Stupid girl skipping her block drills. The Twelfth was probably getting her back for sleeping in the last two days. For not doing her best to be a proper Aegian.

Kaffy balled a fist and wiped the tears from her eyes. She’d show Hesper and those idiot boys. She’d take her licks like a woman, like Tellie Strong, like the Twelfth Herself…

Something was wrong. The color had drained from Hesper’s face. He simply stood there, his big dumb mouth open, gawking up at the black and gray sky.

A heavy, distant thump shook the ground. Then another, like Dodecoron itself was trembling. Kaffy turned, heart racing, afraid of what she might see.

A pillar of smoke rose above the amber lights of Vestebrae. More retro rockets burned to life above the spaceport, but they were firing in all directions—too fast and out of control. The transports weren’t landing. They were crashing.

Kaffy screamed. It made no sound over the sirens or the whine in her ears, but tore the back of her throat. All she could see, could feel, was her father dying in a fiery crash just hours from being united with his family. With her, his daughter, his Kaff. For thirty priceless days.

A prayer formed in her heart. She pressed a fist to her chest, hard, like touching her knuckles to her heart, Father would say. Please don’t let it be him. Please let Father be safe.

A firm hand caught her wrist. She jumped, turned, and tried to pull away, until the young lieutenant’s deep brown eyes bore down on her. His voice barely broke through the sirens, but he spoke slowly and firmly.

“That’s the air raid sirens, ma’am,” he said. “We need to get to shelter now.”