“Yukita, you’re our pilot today. Hofmann, Asper, you are on hot drop. Steidl, get on the gunner’s seat. As I’ve briefed before, the goal is simple: clear the enemy compound, complete it as a team, planetfall and back within a hundred and twenty standard minutes. I’ll be monitoring your comms and visuals.” Heavy footfalls marked the departure of the ornately armoured figure from the dropship’s door. The armour turned its back to face the men and women on the drop ship with its arms behind its back. “Good luck, and may the wisdom of the Founders be with you.”

“We’ll do our best, Lord Commander”, Asper saluted, and so did the other three, though Yukita did so through the cockpit window. With a core shaking rumble, the dropship took off into the void of space.

======

“Docking at AQV-D007 in 6 minutes, enjoy the view of home while you can, folks.” A voice announced from hexagonal grilles. The Lord Commander’s vision snapped back to the well-worn interior of the transport ship, her youth seemed so distant now. 

Her once unfocussed gaze found itself upon the Colony-Class ship of the 1056th Legion. A marvel of Arqadian engineering, the Arqadia Voluntatem took the combined efforts of five generations of Arqadians to complete, and here it was, surfing the cosmos, home to over four million souls.

Elliptical Domes over two kilometres long hugged the length of the megaship, its hull decorated with distinctly Arqadian forms, painted the same pearly white and gleaming gold as the lead ships of the fleet, the vessel was not just a floating home for millions of Arqadians, but a work of art. Statues of famed historical Arqadian scientists lined parts of the hull where no utility needed be, and motifs etched into the hull reenacted Arqadian tales and legends. To many, the engineers created an impossibly perfect ship, but what the masses found more impressive was how the architects managed to interweave the history and culture of home with such grace. 

As the space-borne city began to fill the viewport of the transporter, the Lord Commander focussed once again on the translucent blue glass pane she held in her hands, its surface glowed to life upon detecting her attention.

Incoming Letter from Agnes, the slate displayed. With a mental command, the letter was sent to the Lord’s heads-up-display, built into her contact lenses. It was something she could never get used to, the majority of Terrans did not have the privilege to procure such intricate devices, nor did their daily lives ever necessitate a pair, it was only when she ascended to Lord Commander that she was issued a pair. It was not something she would complain about though, it provided more than just a private display of information, but also live data from synchronised techware that she had equipped, while also acting as a secure method of identification.

‘Heyo! ‘S been some since the last meeting with the others, wanna get lunch over at the usual place when you arrive?’ The message read. It always amused her how Agnes’ speech module manages to translate her informal speech so well. Why would she waste so much of her slate’s resources on an advanced algorithm for the sake of translating informal speech, as well as spending the time to train its data model eluded her. The Lord once again sent a mental command for an affirmative reply and grabbed her stowed bags as the ship came to a rest in hangar AQV-D007.

The hollow thud that emanated from the transporter’s airlocks announced the practised hiss of pressure normalisation as the jaws of the doors cranked themselves open. Bright light welcomed the passengers of the transporter to the spacious hangar onboard the colony ship. The hangar that greeted them was unusual, yet still highly appreciated. 

Navy Transports were often sent for military hangars, but with the large-scale return of sailors during the interlude between battle plans, many were allowed to return home to spend time with their loved ones before campaigns. Though some of the newer sailors were to continue training onboard their assigned vessels. 

The hangar that welcomed the off-duty sailors was a civilian port, each landing pad familiar, yet different. They possessed the same dull metallic coat that hugged every utilitarian surface, however, the departure platforms were inlaid with hand-crafted walnut planks, the stairs leading to the main bay made of the same wood, spiralling towards the main concourse. The concourse sported shops between every four small landing pads, creating a sort of enclosed shotengai. Outside of these homely streets were the pathways of the main concourse, constructed with a mixture of marble and slate, flanked by manicured planters where meticulously manicured trees and shrubs called home. 

Civilian ports are often not as grandiose as AQV-D007, but being a regional hub of the Arqadia Voluntatem, it had very high traffic. For a ship over eighty kilometres long and thirty wide, its internal cardiovascular network of transport freighters and passenger magrails could only support its base logistical needs. Ports provided additional flexibility to keep the ship's heart beating. 

Making her way through the bustling halls of the major transport hub, the Lord soon arrived at one of the express magrail stations connected to the energetic port. Automated gates chimed as she made her approach, recognising her position, allowing her access to the more posh suites of the train. Today, however, she opted for the simpler cabins, her journey would only take around 20 standard minutes, best not take up suites when it's not necessary, she thought. 

As the train decelerated, a voice rang from the automated announcement system,  “Arriving at Shin-Osaka. Thank you for riding with us. Mamonaku, Shin Osaka. Gojosha ookini arigatou.” 

Crisp cool air clashed with the temperate interior of the train cabin, the doors of the express maglev had whooshed opened and passengers flowed in and out of the now non-levitating train. Many Arqadians lived within the belly of the megaship, where the climate was a constant and the endless expanse of space was rarely accidentally viewed. The Lord, however, lived in one of the dozens of bio-domes. Bio-domes were tiny pockets of their home planet, their foundations consisting of silt, sand, clay and dirt. Where traditional shophouses and homes sat upon the small chunks of Arqadia. These greenhouse-like structures replicated not just the land, but also the atmosphere of the people’s home planet. 

The Lord found herself lost in thought again as her legs brought her home with practised footfalls. It had been nearly a year since she had returned, the aroma of fresh street food permeated her senses as she passed stall after stall of food vendors. Eventually passing her favourite unadon shop. Out of the corner of her periphery, a young girl sprinted past her, clutching a ticket of sorts. 

Arriving at the front gate of her family’s home, the young girl ran past the gates and straight into the front door. 

“Chichi! Chichi! Uncle Morris said that I can adopt Canis if you sign this adoption ticket! Please please please! I promise I’ll train him well!” the adolescent pleaded. 

As the Lord made her way towards the front of the house, a slightly chubby man unlocked and opened the front door, his face just beginning to show signs of ageing. The sight of the Lord drew a gentle smile upon his weary face. The two met at the centre of the aged granite stepping stones of the home’s garden. The two shared a hug before a wrinkly hand reached upwards and found itself on a head of dark hair, gathered into a high ponytail. 

“Welcome home Sakurako,” the man smiled, “your mother doesn’t know you’re home yet, she’s in the oyanashigo bunks. I’ll grab us some drinks and wait downstairs.”

“Thank you, I’ll bring her downstairs with me dad”, Sakurako smiled back. 

Sakurako scaled the squeaking stairs of her childhood home, each step, a memory to a bygone time. The third last step in the flight was one she remembered fondly, she would often sit there like a statue, refusing to move a centimetre when she did not get what she wanted. When pouting and puppy eyes could not move the hearts of her parents. 

She slid her room door open before dropping her bags right by the door, the sound of tiny feet impacting the plank floors decorated the halls, Sakurako had to dodge and weave to avoid an impact with these deadly projectiles; her parents ran an orphanage for children who have either lost their parents, or been abandoned by them. Lanterns illuminated the halls of the home and the labelled paper doors of the aged building reflected a warm orange glow.

Noticing a significantly taller shadow cast upon the paper walls, Sakurako’s mother turned her attention towards the sliding door.

“Sakurako-chan, why didn’t you inform me you were coming home?” The older lady put aside the bedsheets on her lap and hugged her baby. “Does otou-san know?”

“Yes mum, he’s preparing refreshments downstairs, I’ll help with the sheets later before heading out” Sakurako smiled.