Standish

  Standish

  An Earth Saga Story

  Donald B McFarlane

  Copyright 2019 Donald B McFarlane

  Cover Art by Ivan Batsalov

  Technical Advisors: Mark Edwards, Brett Smith, AJ Lea

  Beta-Test by Tom Lindley, Nick Cryne and Zach North

  www.donaldbmcfarlane.com

  Earth Saga Books by

  Donald B McFarlane

  Minus Epsilon: The Earth Saga I

  Defiant Order: The Earth Saga II

  Horizons: The Earth Saga III

  Remnants of Empire: The Earth Saga IV

  Edge of the Vortex: The Earth Saga V

  Condition Zero: The Earth Saga VI

  Love In A Time of War: An Earth Saga Story

  The Gauloi: An Earth Saga Story

  For fans of science fiction

  Standish

  1

  The Present

  Mechcharga

  “I need you to do this one last task for me, Val.” The words flowed effortlessly out of the mouth of the Princess.

  Standish leaned back in the high-backed chair and let out a breath while examining the delicate features on the face of the head of the Etelainen government. Standish was supposed to be retiring. She was supposed to be leaving Mechcharga for a peaceful life, but she wasn’t one to refuse a request during a time of war.

  When Standish finally spoke, it was with a slight deference to the person she was addressing. “And you don’t want the Grand Marshall or the Elders or the Royal Council to catch wind of this.” Standish shook her head. Her once blonde and blue hair now almost entirely grey.

  “Something was taken from me, and I would like you to recover it.” The Princess continued. “As the head of the Royal Protection Syndicate, I thought it best to bring this issue to your attention.”

  There was a tone in the sentence that made Standish’s ears perk up. She might have been head of the RPS in title, but her replacement had already been selected and had already taken over the bulk of the position’s responsibilities.

  The Princess was smart and wise beyond her years, but she was still young.

  “The late Empresses’ ring has gone missing from my chambers.” The Princess continued.

  Standish leaned forward. “Perhaps you should contact the head of the household.” That was possibly more sarcasm than the Princess was used to, but in her position, Standish knew that she had a wide margin for manoeuvre with the young Princess.

  “No.” The Princess shook her head with a dramatic effect. “I know who has it.” she leaned across the large desk towards Standish. “And I know where they have gone.”

  Standish took a deep breath. “And you would like me to recover it?”

  The Princess smiled. “Yes.”

  Standish took a deep breath and looked around her office. I was dimly lit and sparsely decorated. Almost everything she wasn’t taking with her into retirement had already been discarded. Not much left after a life of service.

  Looking back across the desk at the Princess, Standish pursed her lips, knowing that she was going to regret whatever escapade she had been drawn into, but her sense of duty overwhelmed any concerns she may have had. She hadn’t taken off the uniform yet.

  “Give me all the information you have.” She said.

  2

  The Past

  Nadolo Prime

  “There is nothing for you here, Val. Nothing.” The man was tired and worn out. Too many years on the arid northern plains. He looked across at his daughter. She was strong, perhaps stronger than he ever was, and much smarter. That had never been in doubt. “Your brothers are already giving me more help than I could ever need on the farm. You need to think of a life beyond this planet.”

  The young woman, with white and blue skin and matching hair, had been sitting in silence since her father had informed her that he did not have the finances to send her to higher education in the capital, Port Sunlight. She had excelled in sports and academics at school, but the university in the capital had a limited number of scholarships, and they were all gone for the upcoming intakes. Part of her knew that her father would never have the funds to send her to the other side of their remote and sparsely populated world to receive further education, even at a free university.

  Looking up from the dirt floor of the room they were in, Standish looked at her father and his wrinkled and tired face. His sagging skin was worn down by decades in the sun on the farm and too much drink keeping him company at night after her mother had died. It had all taken its toll. He looked years older than his actual age.

  Her older brothers had always loved farming. It was in their blood, and perhaps more importantly, their souls. They enjoyed tending the land, working with their hands, and using the equipment and machinery every day. The excitement of weather predictions, yield predictions, and guessing the prices at market kept them thoroughly entertained. For Val Standish, it wasn’t enough. She wanted more, and at twenty, she should have already been married, but a lack of suitors in the local area and her family’s tough economic position didn’t give her many options. She also wasn’t keen on a life of farming.

  “Then what should I do, dad?” She asked.

  Her father rubbed his chin with his weathered hands. It wasn’t easy, sending his only daughter away, but it was the right thing to do. If Standish was to live a life that he couldn’t provide, one that she would never be able to have on the northern plains of Nadolo Prime, sending her as far away as possible was not only the right thing to do, it was the only way to give her the best chance in life.

  “The service.” He said after some consideration. “You join the Imperial service.”

  “The fleet?” She asked, a perplexed look on her face. “Leave Nadolo? But I’ve never even left the continent.” Her mouth was agape, her mind racing.

  Her father shook his head. “I don’t know. The fleet, or whatever Imperial services are out there.” He pointed a finger at Standish. “That’s the only way you’re getting off this back-water world and to a better life.”

  Standish looked back down at the dirt floor. “Do you think this is what mom would want?”

  Her father paused before responding. He knew that on this matter, there would have been no dispute if his wife was still alive. She had always been a pragmatist. She would have already sent Standish away.

  “I think she’d want you to have the best life you can, and you can start that by joining the forces.”

  Two weeks later Standish was taken into Port Sunlight for the arrival of the Imperial Recruiter. It wasn’t often that recruiters visited planets along the Reach like Nadolo Prime. Worlds this far from the Core were sparsely populated, underdeveloped and in many cases lawless. Young people from all over the northern plains came to the capital to listen to the recruiter and hear about what life in the fleet was really like, but in many cases, it was just to listen to what life was like off Nadolo Prime.

  Standish didn’t know anyone else from her family’s farming community that had gone to join the Imperial service. The fleet was considered a relatively safe career at the time of the Empire. Safer than off-world mining, shipping, and even exploration jobs. Only those assigned to the Reach Command, protecting the Empire from external threats, could expect any real dangers. If a recruit was lucky enough, they may be assigned to the Core, where the cities were more luxurious than anyone on a planet like Nadolo could imagine. Or so she had been told.

  The morning of the recruiter’s presentation, Standish was brought into Port Sunlight early by her eldest brother, Vazrani, who had errands to run for their father in town, leaving Standish in the small amphitheatre alone, waiting for the recruiter to visit. She waited with her thoughts, fear, trepidation, and the prospect of an adventure that
all stirred her blood. After a while, others started to arrive for the presentation, and then, eventually, she heard a small shuttle touch down outside the structure, a plume of dust blown into the air.

  After a few moments of silence, the amphitheatre foreman walked in with two individuals dressed in military uniforms. They reached the small stage and started to set up their presentation.

  Standish took the time to examine the pair. Both of whom were male. One old, one young. The older of the two moved slowly, but with precision. The younger walked around hurriedly, trying to put out all his pieces and displays as quickly as possible. Standish could tell that the older one also hadn’t cared much for his uniform. It looked wrinkled, his boots were unkempt, compared to the younger of the two appeared smart in his outfit, freshly pressed and very sharp.

  Leaning back in her seat, Standish already knew which one she would speak to after the briefing. The younger one. He was closer to her age and looked like someone she would aspire to emulate. The older man looked tired and undisciplined.

  Just before the briefing was supposed to begin, another fifteen attendants arrived, all roughly twenty years old, just like Standish. Most spread out among the available seats, no one sitting too close to anyone else. Everyone had an expression of nervous excitement on their faces, just like Standish. During her twenty years, Standish had only met a few off-worlders. Her families farming community were all indigenous to the planet, and while there was the occasional alien trader or merchant in Port Sunlight, it wasn’t often that she was in the presence of two figures from not one but two of the other forty-thousand populated worlds of the Empire.

  The younger of the two recruiters started their presentation. He was well-spoken, eloquent even. Standish could tell he was from a much fancier world from his Universal accent. He talked about the numerous opportunities that the Imperial service could offer young people. He showed a glossy film showing all the highlights of Imperial service: shiny star-ships, exotic planets, and accommodations that were nicer than anything on Nadolo. Better food to eat, and as much as one wanted. A better life.

  Standish could tell that the video captured the attention of everyone in the audience, including herself. Everything in the film promised a better life than those on Nadolo Prime from her background could ever expect. After the young officer was finished, he turned the briefing over to his older compatriot and introduced him as Dynamic Operator Master Grade Sla Venga.

  Standish blinked twice. She had never heard of Dynamic Operations, but she knew Master Grade was a very senior rank from her research on her family’s data-terminal in the days leading up to today. To her, Sla Venga didn’t look like what she expected a Master Grade of the fleet to look like considering his lack of decorations on his uniform and his dishevelled appearance.

  The old warrior thanked his younger colleague and took a sip out of a cup that had been resting on a table to his side and stepped forward, eyeing the audience sat before him.

  “Thank you, Sub-Engineer Lo Kon.” The old man stepped to the edge of the stage. “Watch this clip.” He said and started a video on the large monitor that had been set up on the stage.

  Standish diverted her eyes to the screen. It started blacked out, then gave a time and location that Standish didn’t recognise, Ravulo IV. The image cycled through various spectrums showing a confined chamber filled with armour-clad individuals and a patter of jumbled audio in the background until a single voice came through clearly.

  “This is from helmet cam footage taken less than a year ago.” Venga told his audience.

  “Control, Team One. Ready to drop.”

  “Acknowledge One. Good hunting.” Came a reply.

  Ten seconds later, the image panned downwards as the gravity in the chamber where the eight individuals were in was cut, followed by the floor peeling back to reveal a planet from high in the atmosphere.

  “Drop.”

  They were out of the ship in seconds, dropping towards the planet that was filling up the centre of the video. There was hardly any noise as the suits raced through the atmosphere, falling rapidly, an altimeter tracking their descent towards the surface.

  There was no sound in the video until the team landed on the ground.

  “Status.”

  “Two up.”

  “Three up.”

  “Four up.”

  “Five up.”

  “Six up.”

  “Seven up.”

  “Ace. All up.”

  The rest of the video made Standish’s heart pound as it never had before. Not when she had played sports, not when her mother had died. Not when she had gotten into fights. She had thought she had had an active and adventurous youth on Nadolo, but what she was watching made her sweat and her pulse race.

  She didn’t know who she was watching or where Ravulo IV was, but she sat frozen in place and watched an eight-person team drop from high in the atmosphere onto an enemy position, methodically kill over one hundred combatants, something that made her feel like her stomach was tightening into a knot. The team also destroyed three parked space-craft to add to their body count, all in a matter of minutes. After it was all done, they were picked up by a shuttlecraft, the design of which she had never seen before, and whisked away.

  When the video finally stopped, Venga stepped to the front of the stage and looked out over the audience, all of whom were sitting on the edge of their seats, overwhelmed by what they had just watched.

  “I like coming out to worlds near the Reach. I enjoy visiting places where life is tough. It creates tough individuals.” His eyes scanned the audience. “This is a poor planet, you would all agree.” He nodded to himself. “You’ve grown up with hardships that young people in the Core rarely experience. Out here, among the stars, you have underdeveloped worlds, newly colonised planets and worlds that have just been terra-formed. It makes you hardy. And that is what I’m looking for.” He paused and walked along the edge of the stage. “What you just saw was a raid carried out against pirates that had been harassing settlers on a moon near Ravulo. Now, with situations like this, you’d usually send in the fleet, and then the infantry, and then, days or weeks or even months later, you’d have solved the problem, either through force or diplomacy. Dynamic Operations cuts through all of that. We are the solution to many of tactical problems in the Empire that conventional units are not capable of resolving.”

  Venga paused and walked back towards the middle of the stage. “We work in the most demanding and dangerous conditions in the galaxy. Our selection process is one of the most rigorous and technically demanding in the Empire.” He paused and put his hand on the hilt of the knife that was strapped to his right thigh. “And with that comes special conditions, such as being the only military personnel allowed to be permanently armed, anywhere in the Empire.” He tapped the scabbard. “It’s for a reason. We’re the best and are expected to be ready at a moments notice.”

  “Now, if this sounds like something that might interest you, feel free to speak with me after the presentation has concluded. If, on the other hand, you want warm beds, hot meals, and shelter from the harshest environments, then join the fleet or another branch of the Imperial services. If you want to join an organisation that very few can make it into and desire the ability to create real change within the Empire, then come talk to me.”

  Standish had a considerable amount to think about on the ride back to the farm. Of those in attendance, a quarter spoke with Venga when the chance presented itself. He was laid back, funny, and brutally honest when answering questions. Some of what she had heard put a mild damper on her spirits, but she was not deterred. Venga had informed them that to make it into the Dynamic Operations community you first had to attend one of the initial entry training facilities dotted around the Empire. After that, the recruit would be shipped off to the school for the branch they enlisted into, and only once that had been completed and after one year of service in the fleet, could they then apply for D-O training.

&nb
sp; Part of the risk in not passing D-O training, which had a very high failure rate, was being sent back to fill whatever your enlistment role was in the fleet. This dilemma put Standish in two frames of mind. On the one hand, she could enlist in a field that was actually interesting to her, just in case she failed to get into D-O. The problem with that was all the career fields within the Imperial forces that caught her attention had training courses that were lengthy and were very classroom work-intensive. Not the best environment to prepare for the D-O course. On the other hand, she could apply for a career field that had a shorter training period and was more physically demanding, but then she ran the risk of being stuck in some horrible job for her enlistment if she failed D-O training.

  She relayed these fears to her father when she returned home, and after much debate, Standish settled on the field that she knew would get her prepared physically and psychologically for the D-O course.

  “And?” Her father asked, his tired eyes still shone brightly whenever he spoke with his daughter.

  “Rescue Technician.” She replied, looking at the data-pad grasped in her hands that Venga had handed out at the recruitment talk.

  “And what is that?” Her father asked, peering towards the screen his daughter was staring at.

  Standish put the pad down. “They handle all onboard emergencies on ships in the fleet, including all extra-vehicle emergency work.” She looked at the pad again. “To serve, to save, to sacrifice.” She smiled. “That’s their motto.”

  Her father nodded and leaned back in his chair. He took a moment and sipped his drink. “Sounds dangerous.”

  “It is, but it’s also shown to have the highest percentage of applicants that eventually make it into D-O.” Standish replied, a smile on her face. She was already dreaming of the adventures that awaited.