by Candi Bartlett | art by jennibcreative
Dedicated to Uncle Roger, who always had a story to tell, and always wanted to hear one.
Contains themes of violence, suicide, and sexual situations.
​
PART I
​
...
...The largest dome in the colony, Security allows for Earth air military training and houses New Earth’s Galaxy Facility controlling all of the moon’s satellite programs and rocket maintenance. The massive structure holds dormitories for cadets, education buildings, the armory, full surface gear stations, and the motor pool. By afternoon, it is the only dome that buzzes at all.
West takes what time he can to visit the groups while they run combat training. He does it every day. The new normal makes him nervous but he hides it well. Some Agents use the nerves in their training. Mill’s group performs a take down in unison. A volunteer incorrectly throws his graduated cadet partner and they both end up on the ground. Mills walks and stands over them.
“Look at yourself! You have Traveler all over you. You are being eaten by the enemy!”
He shouts like his mother did when they got into not-so-real trouble as kids. It sounds like an age-old Earth cartoon general screaming at a bumbling private.
The volunteer’s eyes go wide. “They want to eat us, Sir?”
Agent Mills bends down, nose inches away from the volunteer. The cadet tries to hide his smile. Mills is very serious. “Yes, son, they will eat you.”
West walks by. “Mills, knock it off.”
Mills stands. “What? We don’t know.” He looks at his group. “They could eat you. AGAIN!”
The next group is much quieter. Agent Glouser believes that fun should be earned. Her group moves steadily through synchronized drills of Glouser’s particular fighting style. Somewhere between Tai Chi, Krav Maga, and what happens when some people have too much to drink Margrit Glouser has honed an easily teachable, extremely effective, low endurance fighting style. It’s how she has spent the last month. The volunteers are picking it up quickly and the cadets are eager to add it to their long list of skills. The burning light of false dusk starts to reach across the dome. It bounces off of her blonde hair as she twists and turns and thrusts her elbow into her partner’s chest in demonstration.
For a moment, Dan stares. Everything about her makes him feel better. Always has. In that moment, Margrit catches his eye and gives the faintest of winks with a small smile. Drills are not usually time for fun but she believes more than anyone on the moon, he’s earned it.
Before leaving, he scans the groups one more time. White arm bands make the volunteers stand out. He recognizes the CitDome intern from earlier. The one handing out reports at the entirely useless meeting. He taps his comm, looks at her, and taps it again. The small tablet in his pocket buzzes and he pulls it out to review her stats. Dammit. West wants to send the 17 year old girl home. He wants to tell her it’s probably too dangerous. The fact that they don’t know for sure makes it too dangerous.
He walks to the elevator in the motor pool main garage that will take him to SecOps, back to the ever stretching wall of eyes. The low, soft crimson hum of emergency light pulses at him in the silent box as it falls.
He wishes they didn’t need her.
...​
​