Today’s the day I finally get off break. Whoever thought that being locked up in the ship while we were on an alien world, while not deserving of actual physical harm, should be mentally tortured for at least a day. Let them watch over the gremlins in day care perhaps? But it’s still not as bad as the journey here. Everyone’s on the move and keeping busy either going somewhere, building something or writing things down.

I myself as an honourable and admirable commander have spent my time volunteering in other departments instead of wasting away looking at my bedroom ceiling. Most places have kindly rejected my offer in one way or another, but the lab rats seem to have appreciated the added manpower. I’ve moved hard drives, tanks filled with local plants, and even a few native animals.

The marines who were kept on reserve as we launched swarmed us for info on what we saw outside at first. But that quickly died down as they took their shifts guarding key points and important building outside. I didn’t even get as much attention as some of the others because of how late I was in getting back.

I heard the familiar click of my environmental suit as it clicked in place. Wearing it for a couple days really gets you used to the feeling of breathing recycled air and added power to your movement. Taking it off for the last couple days was harder than I would like to admit.

I leave my room and think about what I overheard from a few of the scientists speaking a bit loudly about their project to distract me from the possibility that I might be addicted to the suit. It seems they’re using all the things I’ve been carrying to estimate the best way of Terra-forming this little space rock.

It doesn’t make much of a difference to me since military protocol dictates that I can’t remove my helmet on duty, but it’ll be a difference that’ll earn us the favour of this world’s inhabitants. I hope Art has been wearing the suit as much as she seemed to want to. I’m just amazed at how energetic she was even when breathing in the knock-out gas this planet calls air.

I heard from Taylor that the Ant-lion Squad has been taking shifts between Sector 1 and 3 while I was on my forced vacation. Under Marks it seems that they’ve not had any mishaps with the locals and largely let them go about their business moving to the markets. It’s mostly children and young adults who go in throughout the day but at night a couple of the miners pass through half covered in dust.

I suppose to them it seems that they’ve just gone from one manager to another. Hopefully we start to look like the lesser of two evils, but I know that won’t be an issue when we start to clear the air. It’ll at least make it that much harder for anyone to justify kicking us out of here.

I exit into the station and while it looks busy, none of the people here are actually alien. The spaceport has been cleared out since we landed, and all crews located on the few ships docked here have been put up in temporary accommodation. This information curtesy of someone else talking obnoxiously loudly in the recreation room.

Keeping anything secret between the crew at the moment would be a literal nightmare to anyone who tries. I suppose they’re being pretty lenient with us given the circumstances. The civilian crew have been pressuring officers and partitioning the admiral to let them outside with limited success. One actually was allowed to set up shop nearby selling gas masks to locals. I assume they’re not making a profit, but good reputation and other less materialistic benefits can certainly provide an edge over the competition.

Granted, inter-space civilisation finance is outside my area of expertise. They must be doing well enough since I was given a bit of the local currency for my excursion with an estimated value range on the coins. Apparently, they’re called Lyres. I wonder if they’ll keep the local currency active or just exchange it out for our own when they get around to it. The place is poor enough to make it an easy transition given its only source of income is from the mine.

I scan my key card at the checkpoint and exit out into a pretty lively street. They give me a bit of space to walk as if I was a shark swimming through a school of fish. It was pretty funny to see some who weren’t paying attention jump out of the way and trip over themselves. Though I’m sure the humour will wear thin soon enough.

I keep to myself and walk in a straight line. Trying to act as professional as they seem to think I am. The kids don’t seem to care about my presence among them, but I feel the eyes of everyone else burn a whole through the back of my head. I doesn’t help that I can actually see behind me while I’m wearing the suit.

Once in a while I cross paths with a patrol and nod towards them. They nod back and we all continue on our way. According to the briefing we’re only covering the main roads with patrols and leave the more out of the way and hidden parts of town to their own devices. The main issue being a lack of marines and most likely a lack of desire to do so.

From everything I’ve learned we’re committed to this place until further notice. No plans on leaving and global development projects that’ll require time and resources that are in short supply. The most likely reason for this is that we are entrenching ourselves. I wonder if the Admiral expects that we’ll be under siege soon? Regardless, it doesn’t change what I need to do.

I walk the rest of the way and even take a few photographs for personal use along the way. Everything just seems to have this bluish tone to it. The plants and houses and even the street visually display that the material used may be similar but is inherently different than our own. One of the more visually striking things I saw on my journey are the symbols I see everywhere. I tried to get the machine to decipher it but that just makes the symbol jump about and visually tear itself apart. I had to turn it off after a minute due to a splitting headache I received from its attempts.

The way it messes up my vision doesn’t give me a whole lot of confidence in the translator. If I’m going to go on more of these diplomatic missions, I should probably at least learn the language as much as a shame that is. It’s the same back home with a few of the less known languages. It can sill translate of course, but you miss all the little nuances and colloquialisms that make the language a living thing.

I arrive outside their house. A small and basic concrete construction. Much the same as many of the others here, yet there are a few traces of individuality here. The pathway was maintained, and the garden was filled with native flowers and shrubbery. The windows while clearly old and the wood was flaking had been painted with moons and stars of distant worlds.

A tall twisting tree held a ladder to allow for an easier climb to some of the lower branches and the some of the symbols I noticed earlier were etched into a few stones placed in the yard. It’s a house that would draw attention but not the wrong kind since everything here is not valuable in the traditional sense. This family have taken a dark toxic world and made it a home worth living in.

I knock on the door and it only takes a few seconds for it to spring open inwards and the blurred image of a bi-pedal cat-like Art tackled me without thought nor regret for her actions. Of course, the environmental suits protested against this, displaying their disapproval of the situation in audible scraping and irritable high-pitched squeaks. Though I’m sure neither of us cared.

“I’m gone for a few days and you decided to tackle me to death?”

“I missed you.” Came her quick reply before letting go.

“It’s good to see you again as well. How has everyone been? You’ve been practicing I hope.”

Her father Lucas walks down the stairs at this point, looking like a man prepared to stare down a demon from hell itself. He was wearing the usual miner’s outfit. Its primary colour being bright orange. It’s a hideous thing that goes from the feet to the neck without anything besides a brown utility belt that holds an assortment of tools.

“I have! Everyday in fact. I haven’t taken the mask off even when I sleep. It was a bit uncomfortable at first but now I don’t even notice it.” She says distracting me from assessing him further.

“That’s good to hear. It must be difficult to eat with the mask on.”

“I didn’t mean I never take it off… I was hungry.” She looks to the side shyly.

Lucas stands beside her and places a hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid that this will have to wait until after my shift. I’ve got work to do and not a lot of time to spare to get there.”

“I’ll make it worth your time to stay. I’ve been given a few coins and I have a few important decisions to make in the next few hours that I’m sure you’ll want to give your opinion on.” I interrupt Art before she attempts to convince her father.

He visibly stiffens before gesturing me to walk inside. I can see a hallway ahead and the stairway runs beside it. Though we entered into the room on the right. A table was in the middle of the room taking up most of the space but there were enough seats for myself, Art, Lucas and his wife who was already here to sit. I take my place closest to the door and sit on the wooden chair. It groans under the pressure, but it holds firm.

“As for compensation due to the use of your time I’ve gathered 500 Lyres that you will receive regardless of what you decide after the proposal I’ve been instructed to give you.”

“Instructed? By who?” Lucas asks wearily.

“I receive my instructions through Central Command but the most likely person, of the record, would be Admiral Hamilton. He’s taken particular interest in Art Ryte due to the events a few days ago.” I say calmly as I unpack the prepared contract.

I hand over 25 pages of physical paper within a binder written in their assumed native language. From how the translator was acting up on the way here they may have contracted a literate local to write it out.

“I have been directed to allow the opportunity for one Miss Art Ryte to attend our military academy as a student. Should she and her parents decide to accept she would be required to follow a series of strict rules and regulations outlined in detail on pages 3 through 11. Please keep in mind that these rules are for her own safety and the majority of which apply to our own students barring few exceptions.” And they fucking already signed it.

You could have at least waited till I finished speaking before giving up your daughter to a strange authority that showed up less than a week ago. I know it’s bad here, but I expected more hesitation on parents as protective as you two seemed to be.

“After graduation she would be required to serve 5 years and after this time has expired may choose between renewing the contract, or, receiving an honourable discharge and transport to designated civilian worlds. The full list of civilian worlds will be subject to yearly review and conditions are outlined on page 15. During her time serving, she will be provided an allowance fortnightly and will be provided basic needs and living quarters.” I say trying not to let my surprise leak into my voice.

“The living quarters will however differ from the standard contract as she will be assigned an individual room instead of a communal one. On the case that she decides to retire from military service at the designated date, or, due to injury and unforeseen circumstances resulting in being medically unfit for duty, she will be given access to her main finance account that holds the sum of all wages earned during the course of her service, in Credits. Estimated conversion rates between Lyres and Credits as well as an estimated final amount that should be present in the account upon the end of these 5-years of service stated within the contract, assuming no promotion etc. has occurred, can be found on page 18.”

I collect the contract before gesturing for Art to come over and turn to the last page. Her parents gave their consent, but the final signature needed is the individual that the contract is specifically targeting. Since she is a minor, she will need to sign it once more when she turns the age of majority but that is a matter for another time.

“While I understand that this has occurred suddenly, the nature of this situation has created a need to hasten our preparations. As a consolation I’ve been empowered to grant Miss Art Ryte citizenship should the proposal be accepted. That would entitle her to the same rights granted to myself and every other member of Humanity. This is not likely going to be offered a second time.”

“The choice is yours Art.”

She hesitates, her hand shaking as she looks over at her mum and dad. I remember feeling the same before we left Earth. It never felt right to leave everyone I know and love behind… Possibly forever.

“Can I ask a question first.”

“Of course you can.”

“Will my parents remain here? On this world?” She said quietly.

I put my hand up to stop the surprised looking parents from saying something without thinking. They look like they’re about to jump out of their seats.

“That depends on them. But I know how you feel. I made a similar choice 3 years ago. We didn’t know how long we would have to travel to reach here, so, when I say I made the decision to leave home without any expectation of being able to return. I made that choice to leave my friends, family and a home I’d known my entire life.”

“Are they safe?”

“I don’t know.” I say letting the silence enthesis the gravity of what I just said.

“Will they be safe.” she asks voice trembling now. “On this world killing us slowly?”

She was crying now. Not in loud sobs but in small hiccups and whimpers.

They were standing now. Lucas stuck between going to comfort his daughter and being held back by his wife Mary. The shock of them realising that their daughter knew a truth they long kept hidden from her freezing them to their core.

“That depends on them also,” I say softly. “Arty, they trust you to make this choice. Growing up means trusting them to make their own. It doesn’t make it any easier but sometimes letting go is the best option available to us.”

“Please Art,” Lucas pleads. “Believe in us.”

“Believe in you? After you lied to me my whole life!.” The edge of the table she had been holding onto had visible claw marks.

“Yes Art. Believe in the people who for every lie we told you died a little inside. Believe in your father who saved me and stayed with me despite this world. Believe in me who despite my life as a slave, lived free.” Mary moves past Lucas and around the table before enwrapping Art in a hug. “Sign the contract and, believe in us who have defied fate before to do it again.”

Art stared at the contract. At the dotted lines that would decide her fate and without looking away, signed her name.

Neither Lucas nor I moved or said anything as Art wept in her mothers embrace. I gestured for him to take his seat and I passed him a different contract. This is the parent’s choice. This is what their fate depends on. Whether they would leave this world or control it in our name. Humanity’s name.

“Time is not on our side Lucas Ryte. You of all people should understand the consequences of civilisations discovering each other. You were there when the Niashen’s were ‘Uplifted’. The more we discover about the Union from the planetary records, the more likely it seems that conflict is inevitable. It’s time to choose sides and you know you’ve already made your choice.”

He signs it just as quickly as the previous contract. Didn’t even read it though I’m sure he will do so thoroughly later.

“Thank you Viceroy Ryte. Your quick response is most appreciated. Someone will be dropping by within the hour to pick you up and escort you to your new office.” I say then give a respectful salute.

It’s a bit awkward sitting down but politicians ‘officially’ out-rank military personal. If Lucas’ position was anything other than a hollow title, then the only person who could give him orders would be the Admiral and vice-president of the United Nations of Earth, James L. Hamilton. The first to hold Executive powers and military rank since the Unification Wars. I was there when he was awarded the position. The decision was mostly uncontested. I’m sure some saw it as depriving the President of a second in command and reduced her political power.

I’m sure there will be many who will celebrate the discovery but there will always be the few who are inconvenienced by the realisation that we weren’t lost in the void. But you can’t do anything without stepping on someone’s toes these days. It’s probably one of the reasons the selection process was so competitive. Not that it matters to me. I’m the best. No one worked half as hard as I did, and no one has a quarter of my skill. My parents made sure of that.

I may have neglected to mention to Art that our choices weren’t exactly similar in nature. The decision to never see them again was an easy one.

The alarm I had set this morning went off startling them a little. Art had been released and even when hair covers your cheeks it’s hard to hide embarrassment. I turn it off by touching my wrist before standing up.

“I think it’s time for a short break before we continue talking about future matters. In fact, I think we should take a little walk outside. There is something I’d like you all to see” I cheerily mention, trying to dispel some of the seriousness of the events that just took place.

“What is it?” Art asks curiously.

“That would spoil the surprise now wouldn’t it. We should leave now, or we’ll miss it though.”

We exit and make our way towards an open field about five minutes away. The streets are less busy than the markets, but we still draw a few eyes in our direction. Unfortunately, we’re not as close to the main road as I would like to be, but no one has encountered armed resistance yet. We should be good for a little bit.

I spot a nice little hill and we climb up to the top. It’s got a nice view and there are no trees tall enough, so it has a nice view over the sectors. You can even see the space port but that’s not surprising since it’s the largest building not just here but on the planet.

“Look out in that direction for a bit,” I point towards the towering building.

It is different from what I’ve seen at home but there was practically no chance it would have been the same. Similar perhaps but more… Archaic. Where our ports are organised and set in a structured and engineered manner, they have a more artistic approach. If I could describe it, it would be similar to late Victorian architecture. But even that wouldn’t be enough to adequately represent its fractal nature. If I didn’t know what it was, I would have called it a Cathedral.

We talked amongst ourselves for a few minutes. I told them about how I’ll be taking the original copies of the contracts and return copies at a later date. Then another alarm went off. I silenced it quickly and we all watched the launch of the Starship Icarus. It’s Cobalt colour unfortunately blends well with the naturally darker sky of this planet but there was no doubt what it was from the large jets of yellow, orange and red that thrust it into the air.

I read about the origins of Star-ships once. They used to look like rockets and they literally smashed themselves out of the atmosphere. We’ve come a long way since then. The way its shaped would be more akin to a spearhead. Only when it reaches the point where a spear head turns inwards, it instead moves outward before making a curved line downwards. Though it was largely a straight line down until about 2/3rds of the way down when it starts to move into the wings. The result is a less round vessel that is designed for stabilisation rather than brute force.

It was designed for the Planetary Tethers and that is what I was showing these three. The first Tether was installed in this solar system and these three would watch its christening.

“With this, we will turn this world into a beacon of change. You need not worry about the air, for we will make it breathable. You need not worry about poverty, for we will make you rich. And, you need not worry about war, for we will make of you a Bastion.” I say without looking away from the sight before us.

“What does Bastion mean? It didn’t translate.”

“It’s a name. Art. The planet’s name. It means Fortification, Citadel, Stronghold.”

It is now that the star-ship transitions from its vertical launch to a horizontal glide. Then as it attached itself, it seemed to gain an unnatural speed before disappearing from sight off in the distance.

“That is the future I offer you and your family. Humanity is a social creature. Violent at times, yes. But we seek out companions and form a society to benefit its members. Now that we have found others who share an intellectual existence in this universe of ours let us prove ourselves better than the Union. Where they enforce slavery and order, we give equality and freedom. We have offered a hand and you’ve taken it. Let us offer you another invitation. I offer you our dream.”