USD: 41 Days after arrival at Fort Glisson

Location: Van Biesbroeck’s star, Meltisar, MIL-1A, Navy Administration Offices and Bureau of Personnel

Alex stared up at the muted light blue lines in the cell’s ceiling that cast the small sterile cell in various shades of color that hinted that it was supposed to be evening. The clean white metal walls took on whatever color the lighting gave it. Her small narrow cot was bolted to the floor and the only other furniture was a small sink and toilet in the corner.

None of those were the most prominent feature of the cell, that was reserved for the energy bars that run along the single open wall that crackled with the same faint blue light of an I-field. She hadn’t yet worked up the courage to test what a touch would do, the way the air hummed around the energy felt like a storm brewing, and she was uncertain what a serious electrical shock from it would do to her nanites.

The cell across from hers was empty, but the layout made her feel trapped and exposed at the same time.

Alex had plenty of time to think about events over the last three days in the cell. Time was counted out dutifully on her HUD’s overlay that had continued to inform her of her recovery status from the damage of the firefight.

The soldiers that had taken her into custody had been professional enough, with the sole exception of the one who had embarrassed himself with the failed tackle. They’d placed her in heavy duty metal cuffs before a lieutenant had arrived to take charge of things.

That still felt like a blur to her, but she was fairly certain she had given him an accurate rendition of all her activities of the day, including her visit to Elis, the walk back to the shuttle, the ambush, and her self-rescue. She did remember that the Lieutenant had kept a straight face through all of it, and she had the feeling that her statement had been recorded for posterity.

She’d finished by asking for him to contact Admiral Westlake as the only thing she could think of to help her get out of the mess.

When the soldier who had embarrassed himself had made a snide remark to her while she was waiting alone, she’d broken her handcuffs and broken his power armor’s suit joints in four rapid strikes leaving him stuck on the floor until his buddies came to retrieve him.

That wasn’t the most well thought out action, and probably why they’d left her in the cell. Maybe. It had certainly earned her a rougher escort at the barrel of a rifle. She was numb to the possible charges of assault or misconduct. Technically, she was subject to military justice.

But no one had come to talk to her other than the chief who oversaw the brig and the petty officer who delivered the prisoner’s meals every day. Those were MREs and she was fairly sure that they took out the better ones and left the prisoners with junk, because she’d gotten Chicken A La King twice already.

On the second day, the numb feeling was gone. The red digital clock beside her bed that normally told the time had changed. The words “Help Me” flickered there periodically and wiped themselves away whenever anyone walked by and at seeming random times.

They’d also decided to send a medical person to check on her. That had made her furious, because if she’d been hurt, she was sure she would have bled out or died by then. She’d sent them away with a scowl after refusing to let them examine her. Her HUD reported she was fully functional, albeit with less mass.

She hadn’t been able to sleep well, either. Images of the bullet that had ended Lieutenant Harmon haunted her, and she had found herself reaching for weapon more than once when she had woken herself up.

It had been more vivid than even her nightmares after the battle for Dedia IV. Thankfully, the brig was kept on the slightly cool side and she had a towel to wipe off the sheen of sweat that had formed.

But it had left her with even more dull time with nothing to do but consider the “Help Me!” message. She replayed the fight again and again, but the giant metal hook that had smashed one of the mercenaries in the fight had been no accident. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt certain that whatever or whoever was trying to communicate with her had helped her then.

The idea that it was an imprisoned GAI or NAI was at the forefront of her thoughts and the uncertainty of her situation and the radio silence from the military had her thoughts rushing down a dark path. She didn’t want to be imprisoned or experimented on. She was worried to death that if they had tried to capture her, they might have done something to her sister.

The uncertainty and lack of contact dug gouges into her optimism and opinion on her supposed friends and allies in high places. At the very least, they could have someone to tell her what was going on.

By the third day, she was actively considering how to escape. She’d plugged her finger into the digital clock and given herself a migraine as she tried to figure out if she could turn off the bars.

The answer was yes, but also that she couldn’t turn them back on. She’d remained in her cell, not wanting to make a large scene, but the incident had earned a guard standing in the hallway. That had not been what she had intended.

Well, she could probably still find another way to escape the cell. Her more pressing issue was what to do then. There wasn’t anywhere simple to go. While she was fairly sure they wouldn’t throw Elis out in the cold, she also was sure if she tried to just go hide somewhere on the station, she’d be found almost immediately. Surveillance and tracking were ubiquitous on the orbital.

Maybe if she could find a way to contact some criminal group and buy a fake identity while changing her appearance… but she had no idea how to contact them. She was also aware that the millions of credits she had didn’t make her as filthy rich as she had thought back on the frontier. Alex didn’t think it would take long for a criminal group to come to the idea that it was best to exploit her until funds dried out, then sell her out.

The Iron Horse MC, if her suspicions were correct, was probably getting deep shit right now and wouldn’t be any help either. She wondered if the military had arrested the entire crew for their Chief Engineer’s attempt to kidnap her and the murder of a JAG officer.

Loneliness cloaked her, and she found herself missing the recruits at basic and even the attention from the DIs. Even if it wasn’t fun, at least there was a modicum of stability and knowledge of what was going on.

As if summoned, Instructor Riley appeared.

“Ertan, recruit. Didn’t they give you a set of something clean to wear?”

Alex jumped up off her cot in surprise, blinking at Riley for a moment as a mix of emotions collided. Looking down at her outfit, she realized her uniform had bullet holes, and all the dried blood still on it as well as char and debris.

“Did they damage your throat?” Riley asked.

“They gave me one, but I didn’t put it on.”

“Well, get changed. I’ll make sure no one watches.”

Alex moved to do so without hesitation; that had been drilled into the last few weeks. But she had a million questions bubbling in her head that demanded her attention. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

“We aren’t allowed to lose recruits, Myers. I’m your minder because I approved your leave, so they called me up here to come get you. I’ve never been forced to come pick up a recruit on leave before, but I guess this isn’t the most fucked up leave I’ve ever heard of.”

Alex frowned as she pulled on her jacket. “Did they tell you what happened?”

“No.”

“On our way back to the shuttle, a tactical team ambushed me and Lieutenant Harmon. They stunned him and I killed two of them, I think, when I resisted. They stunned me with some type of energy rifle.”

Alex hugged her arm around her middle and held her elbow as she pictured the scene in her head.

“They dragged us back to some place on the station and they determined Harmon was a liability or something and shot him in the head. They were throwing me in a metal shipping crate and I decided I was recovered enough and it was going to be my last chance to do anything and I surprised them.”

Alex swallowed as the events raced through her mind. “There was a long firefight after I stole one of their weapons. I killed all of them but the ringleader who was wounded. A navy special operations unit in power armor took me into custody, and they’ve left me here in this cell for the last three days with no word or explanation.”

Riley was silent for a moment. Then the woman reached over and deactivated the energy bars.

“I take it back, recruit. This is the most FUBAR leave I have ever heard of. I’m sorry they left you in the dark. That must have been tough. Let’s get you back to your cadre. To cheer you up, I’ll even forgo letting Instructor Hills know that you’re the one that put that clip on your bunkmate’s pad.”

Alex blinked and followed the instructor down the hall. “Wait… how did you know?”

“It’s better if you just assume your Drill Instructor knows everything. Also, I’m cutting you a lot of slack because of what’s happened, but when we get back on the ground, that will end. You will be right back into it and you are going to have to handle that or you are going to be ASMOed.”

Alex frowned, but nodded. “I don’t want to be held back. I’ll do my best, Drill Sergeant.”

“That’s better.” Riley said.

Alex followed and got lost in her head as they moved out of the brig and into a semi-public area on the station. She really did want to graduate with the others, she realized. She liked her cadre.

She had never had many friends, but they felt like genuine ones to her. Even Tia’s stupid bullshit with Rachel hadn’t made her hate the other girl, just want to make her stop, so things were smoother between everyone.

If Admiral Darren’s plan was to make her care about Meltisar by having her make friends there, then that was probably working a lot better than anything else.

As they were almost to the tramline, a navy lieutenant raised a hand and stopped them.

“Sergeant Riley. Recruit Myers.”

The lieutenant’s uniform was perfectly crisp, but it was the predatory glint in his gray blue eyes that set Alex’s wariness meter to shrieking. He had black hair styled under his military cap, and he projected a sense of confidence, with his other hand tucked into his pocket. An annoyingly smug smirk appeared on his snobbish, triangular face.

Alex couldn’t manage to suppress her sense of something off-putting or untrustworthy about his demeanor despite never having met him before. The way Riley took a protective half-step forward made her feel the Instructor felt the same way.

“I’m Lieutenant Martinez. The Admiral sent me to you to find you before you left. I’m to escort you to meet with him.”