My First Day at Talon Way Station

A newly promoted woman who works for a nebulous, powerful intergalactic organization is sent on her first assignment to assess the operations of a formerly illegal mining operation but finds the organization’s military protector has been sent to “protect” her.

Prologue

I was raised in the PiMSR system, so you could say PiMSR was the only mother or father I knew, though after all this time, it still felt like I barely knew them at all. The PiMSR system was a nebulous, somewhat inconspicuously powerful organization that provided Political, Military and Scientific Research services to private organizations, governments and entire planets.

But we did so much more.

As I was about to learn.

A Long Day Already

I had just arrived at Talon Way Station after 8.25 hours in a cramped shuttle, stuck between a man who drooled in his sleep and a woman who talked incoherently through hers. It had been a long journey, nearly 20 hours; Talon was my third way station. It was a pretty but faded little jewel in the middle of…well, it was in the middle of nothing that had once been the center of something.

The main terminal was a giant glass and gray-blue metal framed atrium filled with artificial light and a jungle of exotic flora. It buzzed with travelers who filled barely half the space and used only about thirty of the 80 gates. Giant, bright welcome signs announced, “Reopened by PiMSR, The Future is Bright!” There was the scent of revitalization; PiMSR liked to shine its light into little remote corners of the universe.

Yet my first official senior assignment with PiMSR was very vague: assess a recently acquired customer support orbiter’s operations and determine how we would integrate them into the PiMSR system. The acquisition itself seemed to have been made more on a whim or at a poker table than with any strategic foresight, so there were few clues how it was supposed to fit.

I was on my own and a little nervous.

Everything at PiMSR was a test. Information wasn’t given to you, you built it yourself and then you gave it to someone else who might or might not use it.

After dousing myself at a wash station (I really did hate to stink), I stepped in line at a coffee bar for a much-needed cup of very buzzy protein-coffee. There were no vacation travelers here, just suits and industrial uniforms. I stared at the man in front of me then glanced around at the rest and it came to me: mining. This part of the galaxy had once been mineral rich; were these suits and uniforms the orbiter’s customers?

An outlier in the line next to me caught my eye. He was a suit but the suit did not suit him; he was a smidge too rectilinear and the fabric strained to contain him. He stretched his neck, first one side, then the other. He seemed to be enduring a punishment like a good little soldier.

PiMSR military.

The soldier stepped up to an open machine in his line and punched in his order. He turned slightly toward me.

“What’s your drink?” he said. I guess I wasn’t here on my own.

“I’ve got it,” I said.

He turned fully around to me. “Come on, mine’s almost done and you’ve figured me out.”

The machine beeped and he pulled out his cup. I reached past him and punched in my order. The machine started to brew.

“Why aren’t you in uniform?” I said.

“We’re not allowed here. Yet. I’m Julian.”

“Mina. Are you my assessor?”

“That’s what Idette wants me to say. I’m your protector; your back up.”

“I don’t do work that requires your kind of back up.”

“You don’t know what kind of work you do. You’re here to figure things out aren’t you?”

“I do customer support.”

He laughed incredulously. The machine beeped again. I pulled out my coffee. He swiped his wrist across the scanner.

“Thanks for the coffee,” I said and left the bar.

He followed me and we wandered the atrium. I didn’t have much time; I was meeting the customer support team in thirty minutes.

“What’s your rank really?” I said.

“Instructor.”

“You seem more Commander than Instructor.”

“I fill the role that’s needed. And you need instructing.”

“I thought I needed protecting.”

“What do you think I’m instructing?”

I stopped. He stopped beside me and waited. He was untraditionally yet also generically handsome, both of which combined in an odd way to make it easy for him to slip in and out of jobs and places virtually unnoticed and ultimately unmemorable. He must be very good at his job, whatever exactly it was.

“So what am I doing here?” I said.

He shrugged. “What have you figured out so far?”

“Mining. Mining in this sector’s been re-sanctioned.”

“Officially, yes. Idette said your instincts are good.”

“Unofficially it’s still been going on.”

He looked up past the artificial light, the glass and metal frame into space. The mining planet would be visible in about a month; I imagined it would have undergone its own natural revitalization had it been allowed to recover.

“That little customer support orbiter’s been running on its own for a long time. They’ve got a lot of bad habits,” he said, “Idette says you inherited a shitload of raw Rocan DNA but you’re gonna need more than that.”

“She didn’t say that.”

“Not in those exact words,” and then suddenly: “What am I thinking!?”

He liked to jump around, a style of interrogation. I stared at him. He had a beard but it didn’t seem intentional, more like he just skipped a few days of shaving. He was tired, some sort of exhaustion hovered around him, yet he was still naturally a live wire.

“You’re not,” I said.

“So you don’t hear me?”

“I hear you — because you talk a lot.”

He smiled. “So what’s your play with customer support? You gonna go in as everyone’s friend? You want everyone to like you?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“They’re not going to. You, my dear, in the eyes of those people, are the invading enemy. Those people are what’s left after a coup.”

“It’s an acquisition, not a coup.”

“Their director was a corrupt jackass. He abandoned them as soon as we gave him the right payoff.”

“Then he should be good riddance,” I said.

“Our getting rid of him is not going to make them like you. And they won’t believe you; loyalty is blind. All your plans, your cute little diagrams, your efficiency and all your ways to make this place one with the rest of the universe, you’ve got deaf ears in there my dear.”

I stifled a yawn and drank some coffee. I hadn’t asked for a lecture.

“This isn’t my first round the planet. The one thing I do know about my job is it’s not to convince anyone of anything. I go in, do my due diligence and report back to Idette, who, by the way, I know did not send you.”

“Of course not. Taro did. And I wanted to come. I read your file. I don’t often come across people like you.”

“Rocarian with a shitload of raw Rocan.”

“Yeah,” he said. He stared at me as if he wanted me to hear something his mind was thinking. I picked up on it, not because I was Rocan but because he was so –

“You’re Carian,” I said, “with a tiny little bit of Rocan.”

“I try to be subtle about it.”

“Well that’s bullshit.”

He feigned surprise. “Should I be more obvious?”

I shook my head. “Why you’re here. This is entirely below your rank, whatever it is.”

That exhaustion I noticed in him earlier became a long, unblinking stare, then a flitter of uncharacteristic indecision. He shook it off.

“I need to be here,” he said, “And I also need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry. And I have this.” I pulled a nutrition bar from my bag.

“Well, I am hungry and you’re going to need more than that to handle those demons.”

“Demons?” I said, “really?”

“Come on,” he said.

“I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”

“I know. Come on, I know a place. It’s right around the corner.”

“You know a place?”

“Yeah. I’ve been here before.”

Of course he had.

Thirty minutes later, after Julian was provisionally satiated, we climbed a wide set of stairs to a quieter floor along the perimeter of the atrium. Here was a long, tall, gray and tan hallway of doors to conference rooms. Mine was at the very end, where a man, a very tall, long, lean slightly bowed man, waited patiently for us. As we approached, he said tentatively:

“Mina?”

I smiled but inside, I suddenly felt like I was caught in severe atmospheric turbulence. Julian squared up a slight distance behind me, hands behind his back.

“Yes. You’re Lelono?” I said.

“Yes, it’s good to meet you.”

We shook hands. He seemed nice. He also seemed to be unclear what to do with Julian.

“And this is Julian,” I said, “He’s…”

Julian leaned in and shook Lelono’s hand a little too firmly. “–I’m Mina’s assistant. I back her up when she needs it.”

“Ah,” Lelono said as he reclaimed his hand, “Well, as you know, miners can be a tough crowd, even a,” he hesitated, “customer support team. But, they’ve been well fed, so prepare PiMSR for that bill.”

“Consider us prepared,” I said.

“Ready then?”

“I am. We are.”

Lelano swiped his wrist across the scanner. The door slid open. About thirty large, cranky-looking mostly human, some humanoid, customer support representatives turned and stared me down.

“Good luck,” Lelano said and disappeared. Comforting.

Told you. Demons, Julian said.

I looked at him. He looked at me and realized I had heard him. He was happy, like he had figured me out.

I, on the other hand, had some demon slaying to do. This was not my favorite part of the job.

I had barely introduced myself when the furious questions flew at me.

“So you’re going to tell us how to do our jobs?!” one particularly cranky demon shouted across the room at me, “We’ve been doing our jobs since before you were born.”

“Well technically you shouldn’t have been doing them,” I said, “not legally. This sector has been shut down for the last eleven years.”

“Ach!” he yelled dismissively.

Ah, ach. The universal term for go fuck yourself. I’d heard it a million times before, but this was the first time it was directed at me. Directly. I took a deep breath.

“So we have rules,” I said, “laws we now have to follow that are going to change how you do things here. I am here simply to learn how you do what you do, then determine the path to change. Once we’ve locked down a new set of operating processes, everyone will be trained–”

“We’re not changing nothing!”

Almost as one, everyone around the room stubbornly folded their arms across their chests.

“Then we can change you,” I said, “and all your access codes and your employment here with PiMSR. We’d love to keep everyone, or anyone who is willing to change, and put you on a legitimate payroll. As a matter of fact,” I raised my voice over the grumbling, “as a matter of fact! The deals we’re offering everyone are better than the illegal deals you had.”

They looked at each other, confused.

“We thought you were here to fire us,” one of the younger ones said.

“Not yet,” I said, “but just give this a chance.”

They weren’t completely sold but the room had reduced to a simmer.

Julian seemed impressed.

That night at dinner, Julian ordered a crudité platter for just the two of us and poured me a glass of expensive and rare Rocarian wine.

“A gift from Idette and Taro,” he said about the wine.

I glanced appreciatively at the label and took a sip. “You know, it’s made from Rocan grapes and Carian apples. A true Rocarian wine.”

“Somehow it blends well.”

“Yeah, it does.”

He cleared his throat and admitted: “I’m a permanent assignment.”

“Protective assignment?”

He nodded. “One good day doesn’t mean you’ve earned their love.”

“Love’s not what I’m after.”

“What are you after?”

I smiled. “What PiMSR’s after. Complete and total domination.”

“As Rocan as you are, I don’t believe that.”

He took a sip of his wine but he just didn’t look like a guy who really liked wine.

I played with the ring on my finger, the only jewelry I owned. I twisted it, carefully, to prevent my nerves from overzealously damaging the delicate metal. It was Rocarian silver that twinkled like diamonds shaped into the leaves and branches of the Carian apple tree. It was a gift from Idette to celebrate my first official, senior assignment.

“Why are you really here?” I said.

The floor suddenly rumbled. Then the entire way station shifted sharply and knocked both of us — and the rest of the diners — off our chairs and onto the floor. It was an explosion from the other side of the station.

Julian grabbed my hand and pulled me up. “Come on!”

My whole body shook but he put his arm around me and dragged me down the hallway. He seemed to know where he was going. The restaurant was on the top floor and as we came out into the main balcony, smoke floated into the main terminal below. Injured people stumbled in from the direction of the explosion.

I pulled Julian to a stop.

“We have to help.”

“My priority is you. Help will come for those people.”

“Who?”

And then they arrived: emergency medical teams dressed in white hazmat suits practically invaded the entire floor and set upon the injured. There seemed to be an excessive number of them for the size of the recently opened terminal.

“What is going on?” I said.

“Someone hit the way station. I need to get you out of here until we determine it’s safe.”

He took me down to the second floor and headed toward the personal transport gates. It was suspiciously quiet on this end of the station. My heart was pounding, hard, but Julian seemed to know what he was doing, like he’d done this–or something like it–before.

“I knew this job would be hard,” I said, “not dangerous.”

“Now you know why I’m here,” he said.

Julian’s personal transport was spacious, clean and had its own sleep and shower suite. It wasn’t lost on me that he, a military man, flew here in such comfort while I had trundled for nearly 20 hours across three different ships, crammed into progressively shrinking seats.

Julian engaged the ship and now switched on the comms. We had just cleared the docking bay doors and looked through the cockpit windows for signs of external damage to the way station. There didn’t seem to be any.

“We’re just going to clear the bay until we get the all-clear,” he said as he punched in some navigation commands. He was very calm. I leaned against the stanchion just behind the pilot’s chair.

As the transport slowly pulled back and began to round the station, Julian stood up and leaned close to me.

“You don’t think it was serious?” I said.

He shook his head confidently. “It often feels bigger than it is.”

“You’re not the first man to say that.”

He smiled and tapped his shoulder against mine. “They’re usually lying,” he looked at me closely for injuries, “You’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

I swiped my hand lightly across his throat, just under his jawline. He thought it was a flirt and smiled warmly. Then, he seemed confused. Next, he struggled with the slight vertigo. He dropped to the floor and reached for me. Preoccupied with his own sudden suffering and survival, his eyes begged me for help. With all his training and experience, I really thought he would try to bring me to death with him.

“It’s Rocan stingray venom,” I said, “It simulates a heart attack or a stroke. Rare these days, but in all this excitement…understandable.”

His body suddenly completely stiffened. I knelt down beside him and held his head gently and still in my lap. He wasn’t a threat to me now. I tried to comfort him.

“It’s the paralysis,” I said, “Shh. It’s almost over.”

You bitch.

The comms panel beeped and the Emergency Team leader’s voice called out: “Commander, we’ve found the source of the explosion.”

Julian tried to scream, but it came out as just a long, tiny squeak.

“How bad is the damage?” I said.

There was a brief pause on the other side.

“Repairable and under control,” he said, “It was a distraction. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ve completed my first assignment.”

“I’ll patch Idette through.”

Julian died just as Idette’s voice called out, soft but clear: “Is he dead?”

“Yes,” I said.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Terrible,” I said.

“But you’re not hurt?”

I looked at my ring and turned it once, then twice around. There was a tiny bruise on my finger; I’d accidentally nicked myself when I released the venom into Julian but my own body chemistry, my Rocarian blood, instantly neutralized the venom and absorbed its nutrients.

I breathed in deeply. “No.”

“Good. The team will clean up, you’ll return to the way station and finish the rest of the integration. I imagine the support team will be much more amenable to supporting you.”

I lay Julian’s head down gently, stood up and sat in the captain’s chair. “I imagine so. Can I keep his ship?”

“Are you sure you want it? I’ll get you a new one.”

“You’re right. A new one then.”

I reversed Julian’s transport and headed back toward the docking bay.