This was war.
Laila glanced down at the confidential file, one line jumping out at her as it had the first time she had seen it.
If Space Force does not get support from the Taureans, there is little hope for the future of humanity.
She didn’t need to read between the lines to know that she couldn’t stuff this up.
No pressure then, just save the world.
Laila shifted in her seat. She wasn’t due to report for duty until tomorrow, when she would meet Commander Qu'Rell, who, along with Laila, would be a co-leader of a small team composed of both Taurean warriors and human marines. Laila had read through the information on Qu'Rell more than once, brief though it was.
He was a decorated veteran from Taurus, experienced with battling the Xakul. No picture, much to her disappointment. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she wanted to know what this… man looked like.
Restless, she checked her watch. She still had time before they docked, and her sister Krystal should be home from work, back on Earth. Making a snap decision, Laila pulled out her tablet and hit the button to connect the video call. A short while later Krystal’s face appeared on the screen, the picture wobbling as she tried to manage her mass of curly brown hair and talk at the same time.
“Hey, Laila! Are you there yet?”
“Not yet, still waiting to dock.” Laila said. “Shouldn’t be too much longer. I thought I’d give you a quick call and see how you are.”
“I’m alright.” Krystal replied, “Everything today was rush, rush, rush followed by a lot of waiting. I was glad to get home.”
Laila’s brows furrowed at her sister’s uncharacteristically dispirited tone. “Everything ok?”
“Just tired, and everyone’s on edge since what happened on Mars, you know?”
Laila’s smile was small. “Yes, I know.”
“We’re not being told anything, but we know something is going on. We’re not stupid. They want a ten percent increase in production, but with no increase in staff. We are the largest manufacturing plant in Space Force, and we are already operating over capacity. The whole thing reeks of desperation.” Krystal ran a hand over her face before continuing, “And then there're the protestors.”
“The protestors? That’s the first I’m hearing about that.”
“Yeah, well, Space Force are trying to keep it quiet, aren’t they? There’s been a lot of talk that what happened on Mars was a lie. That it was all fake.”
“What? Why?”
“There have been rumors of conscription—they are afraid it’s all just an excuse to force people to join Space Force. There’ve been protestors outside the factory every day, and it’s not just a few—its hundreds of people! They had to get armored trucks to get us in and out of the main gates. And there was a bomb threat last week. It’s crazy!” Krystal let out a big breath and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping this on you, not after everything you’ve been through.”
Laila waved a hand. “Krys, don’t be silly. You’re my sister. You canalwaystalk to me.”
“I just want to get out of here, especially now. I’m done with it all. It’s time for a fresh start.”
“If I hear about any opportunities out here, I’ll let you know, ok?”
“Sure. Thanks. But I know how hard it is to get off planet these days.”
Laila started to reply, but the voice of one of the crew filled the cabin.
“Krys? I have to go. It looks like we’re finally docking. I’ll call you once I get settled out here.” Laila and Krystal quickly said their goodbyes, and Laila stashed her tablet and watched the viewscreen as the space station grew closer.
Once the vessel had docked, Laila disembarked, followed by CJ and a handful of other humans destined for various starships. Apart from the hundreds of passengers and ground staff, the first thing Laila noticed was how tall the Taureans were. On Earth, her 5’10” frame was not small, but most Taureans had a good 12” on her.
“This place is huge!” CJ gasped, staring in awe around the vast cargo bay.
Laila couldn’t help but agree. The space was much larger than any football stadium she had seen, with freighters and small craft parked on various landing pads. Workers in one-piece uniforms, similar to a mechanic’s coverall, scurried around.
Most of their small group had already set off, dodging small worker bots that scooted around the area. Grabbing their duffle bags, Laila and CJ followed the crowd along a pedestrian pathway outlined by bright yellow lines painted on the floor. These led away from the freighter and towards doors set in the far wall of the cargo bay. A worker held up a hand for them to stop, letting a hovering vehicle pass. Similar in size to a golf cart, its trailer was laden with boxes and crates.
A pair of doors opened as they approached them, revealing a large waiting room; the occupants standing in a series of orderly queues. The noise of the cargo bay faded into the distance as the doors slid shut behind them.
