Aubade: Chapter 9
Bound by Blood: Uniting the Crew
Hello You — who clicked on this link and isn’t quite sure if you want to keep reading. Read a little bit more! Here’s something fun to read this summer, hop onboard Aubade — my sci-fi serial. It has a bit of everything, and it doesn’t take itself too seriously. And yes, there’s a mystery and futuristic tech and yes, there’s romance too! All you need, right? Here you can read more about how it all began and the why.
What’s it all about?
You’re a woman who’s woken up out of stasis and you find yourself onboard the spaceship Aubade escaping Earth. Forever. Last thing you remember is going to bed. On Earth.
Bound by Blood: Uniting the Crew
She spent two hours in the middle of the night going through his notebook. She found nothing new about herself or anything that suggested why she was on this mission. She did of course flinch when she saw “vaginal birth” listed as prior health events.
And as if a dam had burst and unclogged layers of silt and dust, her brain at once gained a clarity she hadn’t experienced since she woke up on Aubade. Women! Where were all the women? The ratio of male to female wasn’t too lopsided on the main colony but she had not seen any women of the Old, she was absolutely sure of it. She darted up wide awake and began searching Vince’s notebook for a clue. And she found it.
Aubade had not woken up all of its sleeping members. Onboard were still 50 women in deep sleep! And based on a quick scan of their bios Sara figured out that most of them were from the Coast! She was excited and stunned. Why keep them asleep?
That’s when she got the idea to search for a list of all women currently awake in the colony. She found ten listed in the defense section! How was this possible? She had not met a single woman so far! Then she saw the next information. Two had expired very recently! Expired was an archaic word for dead. Five were combating a severe form of reaction to the new planet and were currently placed back in a light sleep while recovering.
Sara’s heart sank. What was going on? Why were they sick? Then, quickly she counted the remaining women. Three! There were three women somewhere here, just a few walls away from her! Sara smiled. Potential friends. And then, with the last cleansing rush came the realization. One of them might know what happened to Pandora!
She tried her best to sort out her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. The scissors were not cooperating but she was able to create something decent looking. Someone had dropped off a pile of black unmarked uniforms and after trying on a few she found a combination that worked and hoped it would do.
Stapleton was also ready and looked sharp in his uniform. They walked in silence to the situation room where all the crew had gathered. Everyone’s eyes were on them. Sara looked around the table and indeed, she spotted two females! Her instinct was to seek eye contact with one of them, and she got a polite nod in response. It was a tall beautiful woman that looked like she might be in her mid-thirties, definitely with some military background, and she was talking to an older looking man.
The second woman, a blonde cheerful soldier, walked up to Sara and escorted her to her seat.
“Welcome Miss Hanley! You’re in for a treat! Jack told me everything. They had to cut your hair, huh? Jeez, I wish I had been there! Instead I had to send out drones all night. Oh, I’m Fleur. I know, what can I do? That’s what they named me.”
Sara smiled and said:
“Fleur is a lovely name! Oh, haha, sorry you missed the event! I’m sure you can watch it over and over again.” They both laughed.
“Welcome, and I mean it. These men are, as you can see…” Fleur held out her arm and motioned toward the gathering,”... well, men!” They looked at the crowd of loud laughter and then at each other. Fleur said:
“Can you believe it? They’re mentally still back on the Coast. I mean Earth, they’re still back on Earth, you know? There’s a 20 cm wall between us and that unbreathable yellow dust out there. Some cozy new home if you ask me.”
Sara sighed and chuckled.
“You’re not wrong. My head’s still spinning from everything that’s happened to me after waking up! You’re the first woman I’ve spoken to who’s…” Sara stopped herself.
“...normal?” asked Fleur.
“Yes! And I could use a bit of normal around here!” Sara exhaled.
“Well, this event is not normal, so you’ll have to bear with it, but once the commotion is over, look me up. I’m starved for girl talk.” Fleur did a quick salute and vanished back toward the other end of the table.
Sara looked around and saw real plates and cutlery. Metal food domes covered mysterious looking dishes. Probably an amusing practical joke at the Defense base. They knew how to uphold the morale of the crew by pulling cheap but appreciated jokes.
"Coffee or tea, ma’am?" She did detect the strong smell of coffee! And indeed, into her cup poured a very dark, hot and pungent liquid. It tasted right, and it gave her a nice jolt. Coffee!
"And may I offer some toast, ma’am? Orange or strawberry jam?" The offers kept coming and she was too polite to refuse any of them. She would have to pay dearly with digestive problems later but it was so worth it.
The loud and cheerful conversation at the long breakfast table elevated her spirits. Every now and then Stapleton's men, and the woman she had seen earlier, would raise a cup in her direction and give her a wide smile. She would in turn raise her cup, nod and smile.
A bit further down the table she saw Jack and Fleur in conversation with the oldest looking crew member. The man had gray hair, but was still very fit. Next to him sat the tall woman.
Jack noticed her gaze and gave her a wink and a nod. He also looked over at Stapleton and gave him an amused, almost teasing look. Stapleton was clearly made uncomfortable by this, and he kept himself busy with his food for several moments before he took up any conversation again. Jack looked back at Sara and smiled again. She mouthed the word “what” to him, but he just kept smiling.
Stapleton gave a short but praising speech, Jack described the hair cutting incident to the great amusement of everyone, Stormare made a point of how limber Lady of Hanley is and how he will offer a challenge to anyone willing to spend two hours in a one by one cube, and finally Sara stood up and expressed her thanks for the support she had received.
"I have rarely had the honor of giving a speech, much less a speech to such a brave group as this. I am grateful and honored to be in your company though I don’t feel I deserve this attention. I am aware that some of you have traveled further than these many years to be where you are today," she saw a few of them exchanging knowing looks and she assumed they were Border War veterans, "and I implore you to keep the same faith you grew up with. Keep it strong and it will carry you."
Why had she chosen those words? She felt a moment of dread. She had no intention of being this spiritual or echo sentiments from the Coast! What had just occurred was not planned. It had just appeared in her mind. She felt connected to these people, because they reminded her of Peter and the Coast. She couldn't move but gave Stapleton a quick glance. He was equally struck and stood up like lightning and began to applaud. His crew followed suit and she noticed that the older crew member nodded his approval to Stapleton. Perhaps it wasn't a scandal after all.
"And finally," Stapleton was again on his feet addressing his crowd, "are you ready to welcome our new friend into our band of brothers and sisters?"
"Yes, Sir, yes!" was the united response.
"You realize this is an irreversible act and that we all forever will be connected by our lives. Semper primus. In omnia paratus!"
"Semper primus. In omnia paratus, Sir!"
"Then, stand and hold up your blades." They all followed orders and held up their knives. Sara could only stare in fear of what might happen next. Stapleton seemed unmoved by her look and continued:
"Now, so that we all will remember this day and the bond we all will share forever, hold the hand of the brother to your right and when I tell you, make a carving in his palm so that blood is drawn, and then join hands. This will forever bind us on this new mission!" Everyone yelled out a "Yes, Sir, Yes!"
Sara had no idea what to do. She looked down at the table in front of her and noticed a beautiful ornate and pointy silver dagger placed right in front of her. She recognized the design and it made her lightheaded with anticipation. This was a dagger designed by people of the Coast! Peter had carried one like it on their wedding day.
Every soldier of the Coast had to earn one. A dagger of this kind was earned, never bought or given as a gift. These were all, then, people of the Coast! All of them. She tried looking at the faces to see if she could detect anyone she remembered. Nothing. Even the tall elegant woman looked at her with anticipation and a weak enigmatic smile.
She could not understand why she was being honored with this kind of ceremony when she hadn’t done anything to deserve this. These men had fought in wars to get to where they were today. No one on this journey had been a slacker, or a weakling. This was a tradition from the distant past. Hence the archaic wording during the ceremony.
This did not feel right. She turned to Stapleton and whispered:
"Whatever you are about to do, if it is what I think you are about to do, don't. I don't deserve this, it is a waste, an act in vain. Save your dagger for someone who can fight. I already feel respected by all here and that is enough. Respect is my true reward and let it be that for now." He hesitated before turning to her:
"They will not believe you unless you cut your palm."
Her eyes opened wide but he did not relent. Instead he held up the dagger by its carved handle and spun it into her hand so that it, before it landed in her palm, cut a thin red line in the middle of her palm. She gasped. He took her hand and locked it into his dry warm hand, and one by one everyone in the room linked hands.
It almost looked comical to her, to see these soldiers stand there holding hands. Too intimate but at the same time a forced connection. This was the tradition of the Old, to demonstrate that their blood was their own and not genetically engineered like the rest of the world. Then, beginning at the head of the table, the hands were raised above their heads in silence but when lowering the hands loud cheers began to sound, and it lasted for almost a minute before anyone finally picked up a napkin to bind his hand.
Sara could not let go of Stapleton's hand, it was the only connection and support she had in this overwhelming moment. A small burning pain was lodged in her palm, but the intense grins of his men, the camaraderie of it all had taken her over and for a short moment she perceived a sliver of a notion of what it meant to be a man of war. She knew that she did not deserve it. But this was not the Coast. This was a small Defense team one hundred years from Earth. They needed a reason to feel united. She had become that reason.
All she could remember after a couple drinks that tasted like champagne, were the vigorous handshakes and pats on her shoulder so firm that she flopped around like wild salmon in a net. She found out who had bet for her and against her, but all was spoken of with good humor.
The revelry continued and spilled out into the hallway. Stapleton took in everything with a calmness only found in a very confident leader. This was a time to let go, she understood that, but this much? Therefore it came as another surprise when she saw a fully armed row of soldiers further down the hallway.
Stapleton had not been foolish, he had only invited a part of his men, and for the remaining part it was business as usual. But even they had a twinkle in their eyes. They all looked very handsome and polished and she tried her best to give each person a friendly smile as she walked by. What was she doing? Playing a queen of some sort? She cringed at her own behavior.
Jack somehow made his way next to her during the slow but loud progression through the hallway.
"Show me your hand." She gave him a puzzled look but did oblige. He looked back at her and smiled.
"Well done, but you do realize this is binding?"
Really, she didn't quite fully understand the immensity of it, but she nodded.
"Now you can call on any of us who sat at the table, at any time, just like we can call on you." He gave her a meaningful look and she felt again as if she had been fooled thoroughly.
"Call on me?" She was not going to let this one go.
"In need, you fool, in need. We're not barbarians," he looked around the loud group of revelers, "at least not yet."
She felt better and laughed with him.
"Jack. Thank you. But..." She held out her hand toward him and he took it and held her hand over his chest.
"In need only, remember that."
They were approached by the older looking man and the elegant female soldier and Jack immediately released her hand and called out:
"Tengel, Hervør, may I introduce our honored Lady of Hanley?"
Tengel took her hand and kissed it. She had not experienced that sort of greeting since her wedding day when the older men greeted her like that after the ceremony.
"Good evening Sara of Hanley. It is very impressive that you can fit into a one by one cube, but even more impressive that you can spellbind Stapleton's men into such a revelry that Stapleton himself has forgotten to call curfew."
She immediately liked him. He had the same face as her beloved Professor Trent. Something that evoked a character that could survive any perverted change in fashion or cultural influence.
The woman spoke:
“Officer Hervør. I want to personally thank you for doing this. I’m sorry I wasn’t there at the time, as I was needed elsewhere. But I can assure you I’ve watched the rescue about a dozen times! Endurance strain, am I correct?”
Sara wasn’t sure what or how to respond.
“Very nice to meet you, Officer Hervør. Glad to be of help, and a nice bonus to survive the ordeal!”
“It’s so rare for our team to interact with any Civilian at this level, so this has been especially, shall we say, memorable, for us all!”
There was some kind of tension in Hervør’s voice. It could just be her personality. Clearly, based on her participation in the ceremony, she also was a war veteran.
"What do you think of Stapleton and our crew?" A woman who got straight to the point.
"A man of his word," Sara replied.
"Indeed, a man of his word," Tengel and Hervør echoed and smiled. Tengel added: "Congratulations on earning your silver dagger, young Lady of Hanley. Remember what you swore tonight."
"How can I forget," she exclaimed, "and thank you both." They bowed their heads lightly and vanished into the crowd.
She managed to find her way to Stapleton's quarters, and assumed that she could intrude one more night. She walked over to the bathroom and washed her face. Her right palm was stinging and she saw the cut was no mere scratch. This was a nice, well carved cut. It needed bandaging and sterilizer. She found what she needed in a box on the counter, and wrapped her right hand after she sprayed on an antibiotic. It burned and she hoped it wouldn't cause an infection. The gym clothes would serve as nightwear she decided and quickly changed her attire.
No sign of Stapleton yet, and best so, because she was still buzzed from either a great placebo drink or some nice amounts of alcohol. She wanted to be fast asleep when Stapleton returned so she wouldn't have to end up in some awkward and embarrassing discussion with him. But first she had to deal with the bed linen, and she grabbed a pillow and a blanket and threw it on the couch simultaneously as the door opened. Stapleton marched in and came to a full stop as soon as he saw her. She held the pillow as a protective shield in front of her.
"'Lo, glad to see you're already settled in. Worried I would find you elsewhere after all this commotion."
"I assume you know how to control your men." He removed his jacket and on-duty belt, and threw them on the chair next to her.
"I control my men better than any man I know."
She hid a smile, but quickly controlled herself so she could speak of more serious matters:
"I'm sure you do. However, I still don't quite understand what all this," she held her scarred palm toward him, "was meant to represent since I'm no soldier of the Coast."
He continued to putter around with his uniform to get more comfortable, but suddenly stopped and looked at her palm.
"Jack will take you back tomorrow morning." Stapleton vanished into the bedroom and she heard him wash up in the bathroom.
So what, he was not going to respond? What did that mean? Had Tengel given him a talking to? Her mind raced this way and that. Or Hervør, who she assumed was his strategic advisor? She got the impression that Stapleton felt embarrassed. He knew, like her, that she wasn't worthy of this much decorum. And there was no way to reverse it. Jack had almost sounded angry, as he had emphasized its binding value.
She waited until he returned before entering the bedroom. Then she tried talking to him again:
"Here, I want to return this." She held the dagger toward him. He didn't even acknowledge it.
"I will leave it here. It is too valuable an artifact," God, had she actually called the Coastal Dagger an artifact? She felt herself blush and she saw him sigh. "...for me to keep," she finished off.
He finally looked at her and said:
"It's been a long few days for you. One day this might mean something to you. Good night."
She could tell this required immense self-discipline on his behalf. He was angry.
No more words were exchanged between them.
Sara could not fall asleep. She kept replaying the ceremony over and over, and the conversations she had with the two women. Somehow it made her both thrilled and scared to suddenly have two potential friends.
Her hand still burned. She turned her face into his pillow and let out a deep sigh, but eventually she had to breathe in and with it came memories. She thought about Pandora's smile and Peter's embrace, but the scent of a stranger's room kept her awake. She could see a sliver of light from the meeting room, and she knew he was still awake and probably studying his notebook. She flipped over on her back again. In frustration she darted up and tiptoed over to the sliding door.
He was sitting with his feet kicked up on the table. In his hand a glass filled with an auburn colored liquid. It was almost falling out of his hand. His head was leaned back on the headrest and his eyes closed. He was asleep.
She sat down on the couch and gently rescued the glass from his hand. He startled and auburn liquid spilled out on the couch between them. Vince was now fully awake, and looked both surprised and a bit annoyed. She couldn't think of anything to say and hoped that the whiskey would melt her into the couch. He put down the empty glass on the table in front of them and faced her.
He grabbed her hand and without asking began unwrapping the gauze on her hand until the cut was exposed. He held up his own palm next to her. His scar was old and just a faint line. Then pressed his palm against her palm and looked up.
"I got mine during the Border War. The last day of the War. I barely remember the week following that ceremony. We were so damn drunk and crazy that they could have cut off my whole hand and I wouldn't have cared!" He sounded tired.
Vince's notebook sounded and both of them abruptly let go of each other's hands. The sound persisted and finally he leaned over to answer.
"What?"
"Sir, we have a situation and require your council, sir..." It was Hervør’s voice.
"Well, what is it?" Vince asked with an irritated voice and leaned forward. His shirt hiked up and Sara saw thick lines of scar tissue along his lower back. She had heard of what the enemy did to prisoners of war and it made her shiver. She wondered if Hervør also had similar scars.
"Sir, a few of our men got drunk and are now... Sir, they are about to leave the compound!" Vince stood up and grabbed his jacket.
"What do you mean 'leave the compound'? Where's Jack, have him talk sense into these lunatics!"
"Sir, that is the problem. It’s Jack who’s trying to leave!" Vince twisted his face into an apology and left.
Sara leaned back on the couch and looked at the scar in her palm. She felt absolutely no pain. Instead she felt his palm.
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