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Description

There were some things I needed to do before I die.

It was the worst days of the Merchant War; we were losing patrol ships, both Corporate and Guild, with shocking frequency. Akira herself ordered the withdrawal of our ships from many of the blockade zones because of these losses. So many were disappearing into the blackness of space.

I’d lost friends out there, too many friends gone.

The Guild had established a semi-permanent operating base on Ceres; it seemed more like a headquarters of sorts. The entire facility was in one enormous dome, but most of it was under the surface. The Guild was living up to ‘rock-hopper’ tradition of reusing mining tunnels and chambers as living spaces. There had to be a thousand people down there.

Security was tight, Guild Marines and security personnel were at every airlock. Guild Marines and security personnel reinforced and shielded the dome. I was told it had the largest Faraday cage ever built. There was always at least one Guild gunboat standing guard in the space over the dome.

.

Even with all this security, there was one part of the dome that was accessible to anybody. There was nothing to block entry to this revered place. One large slab of an onyx like stone was there. They had discovered it on Ceres during mining operations. Akira had secured it for this special project. The stone covered a space larger than most shuttles. Its surface was as black as the space it would come to symbolize. The official name for it was ‘The Wall of Remembrance’.

To most of the women in the Guild, it was simply ‘The Wall’.

The Coalition tried to conceal their losses. They considered the information as sensitive, strategic, classified. You could only guess the number of people and ships they had lost since the war started. Our foe was growing both in strength and sophistication. More Coalition ships, more Coalition people, were being lost. The only readily visible clues were the empty docks and berths of the ships that were no longer there.

The Guild didn’t feel that way.

Maryetta Akira didn’t feel that way.

We did not hide our casualties. They chiseled the names of every woman lost into the Wall. There was ample space for more names. Two real torches, not holo-torches, burned at either end of the Wall. Yes, they were burning up precious oxygen, but it didn’t matter to Akira or the Guild. Far too many were no longer sharing our oxygen for those flames to matter. The Wall symbolized more than lives lost; it was a silent vigil to the pain we all shared.

I would visit the Wall, stand there solemnly, sometimes looking at the names of lost friends, even a couple who had been more than friends. I’d feel the emptiness in my soul, the cold pain, those names now also etched into my heart.

Then I would wonder when my name would take its place on the Wall.

Retrieving bodies was a rare occurrence in our war in space, which was one of the many grim realities. There were so many Remembrance Ceremonies with only some random item commemorating the memory of the lost soul. Ships would vanish, no last messages, nothing to confirm their fates. People would presume a ship lost after being out of contact for a certain amount of time.

That was NOT going to happen to me.

I was putting together some handwritten letters, addressed to those I cared about, also a journal, trying to relate to who I was. I put these in a special storage locker on Ceres. I’d heard of others doing this. If my day came, I didn’t want to be just one more lonely name on the Wall. I wanted people to have something to remember me by.

They had assigned me to one of the riskier operations during the Merchant War. I would bring supplies into the more dangerous patrol areas, sometimes within rogue space. I would help sustain the front-line patrols. My holds would be full of missiles, rations, water, oxygen, power cells, all the things essential to those ships. Their survival might depend on me.

I would also be a priority target for rogue ships.

The destruction of my ship would put those I was supplying in jeopardy. The Guild would assign me escorts, but, as in all things in deep space, survival would ultimately rest in my own hands. Some of my fate was just a matter of luck, not being discovered, not suffering some catastrophic accident. Possibly discovering some demise never encountered before.

I was determined to not be just another casualty statistic in this most futile of wars.

We were fighting an enemy who seemed less like an enemy all the time. The Guild had joined this fight to assist the Coalition, as part of a grand effort to eradicate piracy. Akira herself stated this was about seeking security, fighting to stop the attacks on our ships, and the murder of our people. In the beginning, we had identified pirate vessels, destroyed pirate vessels, eliminated pirate strongholds.

Then the war began shifting, changing. As piracy declined, the goals seemed to be manipulated. The Coalition was urging the Guild to attack ships accused of piracy by the Corporates, with little evidence. Some colonies caught up in the destruction seemed innocent. There were reports of these colonies sending messages, pleading innocence, begging for the bombardments to be called off.

Was it a sign to us when our targets were no longer labeled as pirates but as rogues.

I would perform my duty to the Guild. I would obey the orders from Ceres.

I was also losing my conviction that these orders were correct.

Were we risking our lives fighting somebody who was not an actual threat? Had they tricked us into serving some corporate agenda, something that was not in the best interests of the Guild? The question was being asked more and more often. They rumored that Akira herself was losing faith in the justifications for the ongoing slaughter.

As I stood at the Wall, I made silent prayers asking the spirits of our honored dead to help bring the light of reason to our leadership. If this war was no longer just, have them end it.

The war goes on. I remain committed to doing my duty.

There is a space on the Wall patiently waiting for me.

Description

There were some things I needed to do before I die.

It was the worst days of the Merchant War; we were losing patrol ships, both Corporate and Guild, with shocking frequency. Akira herself ordered the withdrawal of our ships from many of the blockade zones because of these losses. So many were disappearing into the blackness of space.

I’d lost friends out there, too many friends gone.

The Guild had established a semi-permanent operating base on Ceres; it seemed more like a headquarters of sorts. The entire facility was in one enormous dome, but most of it was under the surface. The Guild was living up to ‘rock-hopper’ tradition of reusing mining tunnels and chambers as living spaces. There had to be a thousand people down there.

Security was tight, Guild Marines and security personnel were at every airlock. Guild Marines and security personnel reinforced and shielded the dome. I was told it had the largest Faraday cage ever built. There was always at least one Guild gunboat standing guard in the space over the dome.

.

Even with all this security, there was one part of the dome that was accessible to anybody. There was nothing to block entry to this revered place. One large slab of an onyx like stone was there. They had discovered it on Ceres during mining operations. Akira had secured it for this special project. The stone covered a space larger than most shuttles. Its surface was as black as the space it would come to symbolize. The official name for it was ‘The Wall of Remembrance’.

To most of the women in the Guild, it was simply ‘The Wall’.

The Coalition tried to conceal their losses. They considered the information as sensitive, strategic, classified. You could only guess the number of people and ships they had lost since the war started. Our foe was growing both in strength and sophistication. More Coalition ships, more Coalition people, were being lost. The only readily visible clues were the empty docks and berths of the ships that were no longer there.

The Guild didn’t feel that way.

Maryetta Akira didn’t feel that way.

We did not hide our casualties. They chiseled the names of every woman lost into the Wall. There was ample space for more names. Two real torches, not holo-torches, burned at either end of the Wall. Yes, they were burning up precious oxygen, but it didn’t matter to Akira or the Guild. Far too many were no longer sharing our oxygen for those flames to matter. The Wall symbolized more than lives lost; it was a silent vigil to the pain we all shared.

I would visit the Wall, stand there solemnly, sometimes looking at the names of lost friends, even a couple who had been more than friends. I’d feel the emptiness in my soul, the cold pain, those names now also etched into my heart.

Then I would wonder when my name would take its place on the Wall.

Retrieving bodies was a rare occurrence in our war in space, which was one of the many grim realities. There were so many Remembrance Ceremonies with only some random item commemorating the memory of the lost soul. Ships would vanish, no last messages, nothing to confirm their fates. People would presume a ship lost after being out of contact for a certain amount of time.

That was NOT going to happen to me.

I was putting together some handwritten letters, addressed to those I cared about, also a journal, trying to relate to who I was. I put these in a special storage locker on Ceres. I’d heard of others doing this. If my day came, I didn’t want to be just one more lonely name on the Wall. I wanted people to have something to remember me by.

They had assigned me to one of the riskier operations during the Merchant War. I would bring supplies into the more dangerous patrol areas, sometimes within rogue space. I would help sustain the front-line patrols. My holds would be full of missiles, rations, water, oxygen, power cells, all the things essential to those ships. Their survival might depend on me.

I would also be a priority target for rogue ships.

The destruction of my ship would put those I was supplying in jeopardy. The Guild would assign me escorts, but, as in all things in deep space, survival would ultimately rest in my own hands. Some of my fate was just a matter of luck, not being discovered, not suffering some catastrophic accident. Possibly discovering some demise never encountered before.

I was determined to not be just another casualty statistic in this most futile of wars.

We were fighting an enemy who seemed less like an enemy all the time. The Guild had joined this fight to assist the Coalition, as part of a grand effort to eradicate piracy. Akira herself stated this was about seeking security, fighting to stop the attacks on our ships, and the murder of our people. In the beginning, we had identified pirate vessels, destroyed pirate vessels, eliminated pirate strongholds.

Then the war began shifting, changing. As piracy declined, the goals seemed to be manipulated. The Coalition was urging the Guild to attack ships accused of piracy by the Corporates, with little evidence. Some colonies caught up in the destruction seemed innocent. There were reports of these colonies sending messages, pleading innocence, begging for the bombardments to be called off.

Was it a sign to us when our targets were no longer labeled as pirates but as rogues.

I would perform my duty to the Guild. I would obey the orders from Ceres.

I was also losing my conviction that these orders were correct.

Were we risking our lives fighting somebody who was not an actual threat? Had they tricked us into serving some corporate agenda, something that was not in the best interests of the Guild? The question was being asked more and more often. They rumored that Akira herself was losing faith in the justifications for the ongoing slaughter.

As I stood at the Wall, I made silent prayers asking the spirits of our honored dead to help bring the light of reason to our leadership. If this war was no longer just, have them end it.

The war goes on. I remain committed to doing my duty.

There is a space on the Wall patiently waiting for me.