The starport is alive with activity as countless personnel run all over one of the hangars. Countless personnel are clearing it as quickly as possible, moving equipment around as armed soldiers rush to their positions.
Many of them were tired, having been awoken late at night by the sounds of sirens going off and by the shouting of officers to clear a hangar and clear the runway.
The tension all around the base is getting thicker as troopers make it to their battle stations. Soldiers started to look up at the night sky, yet even the immense ocean of glittering stars could not take away from the tension.
For they are soldiers of the Teuton Empire, and here, on this frozen border colony, on a half-forgotten outpost, something strange has happened.
The Teuton soldiers here are no strangers to the sound of alarms, but here, it was so sudden, in the many months of being stationed on this outpost, not once had they heard the sound of the sirens going off. This place was deathly silent, and no one thought they would ever get to hear the sound of an emergency siren ring.
Processing the sound in their minds, a wave of relief washes over them, as they finally register something, “That’s the emergency landing alarm,” one of the Teutons said, an imminent emergency landing, good. Now the undermanned outpost has a better chance at dealing with it here.
Lieutenant Colonel Graham walks down the hallway of the main Imperial command.
Flanking him are the other officers of the base, and as he makes his way towards the exit, Graham asks.
“What is the situation?”
“Mein Herr, there is a ship approaching and requesting clearance to land on the runway. They claim to have an emergency and are in desperate need of general repairs.”
Colonel Graham looks at the officer with a strange look, raising an eyebrow.
“A ship? Here? Have you gotten their names? Hardly any vessel comes through this part of the Imperial border, even smugglers dont come here.”
“The ship’s designation is ‘the bell’, and it appears that they have a handful of people on board. The captain identified herself as Astrid Rhinehoff. We asked them where they were going, and they said they wanted clearance to enter the rest of the Teuton Empire.”
This causes Graham’s mind to race. This was not the first time something like this would happen, but in all the previous instances, the ships that came through here were cargo ships, massive ones moving valuables to and fro the Teuton frontier colonies and nations beyond the Northern-Galactic Imperial border, or were trash ships destined to dump their loads on automated recycling planets.
This is something else; this is unusual, almost nobody even comes through here, and yet here is a mysterious ship in need of an emergency landing, with people aboard.
What could be at play here?
“Very well, let’s greet them on the ground.” Graham and his fellow officer exit the building, their thick winter clothes shielding them from the overwhelming winter that this planet is known for. Looking out at the runway, they could see that yet more soldiers were coming out of the bunkers that also served as the main barracks.
The Imperial banner still flies high and mighty amidst the wind as the soldiers in the partially run-down cafeteria rushed out to join their comrades.
Graham sighed. ‘This outpost has seen better days,’ he thought to himself.
Just then, a soldier walks up to Colonel Graham, slinging his rifle and giving a salute, “Mein Herr! The ship is approaching fast, they are here!”
The soldier looks at the sky and points at an incoming ship.
This ship is surprisingly large; the colonel could immediately tell what this ship was, from its blocky appearance, and cargo bays, it looked to be a common civilian cargo ship. The vessel was very heavily damaged, it was as though they had flown through the mother of all psychic space storms or had been clobbered by pirates along the way and it looked as though it was about to it were about to fall about midflight.
The cargo ship approaches the runway, escorted by two Imperial Navy dropships, activating their tractor beams. The Dropships assist, helping to lower the heavily damaged vessel safely to the ground. The crew of the cargo ship, for their part, lowers the landing gears and manages to gently touch down.
A few moments later, the damage control team runs up to the craft, medical teams rushing closely behind them. “Move! Move! Secure the ship and get those people outta there!”
When the damage control teams got to their positions, they immediately started scanning the hull and exterior of the ship; the scanners were picking up a critical level of damage, both big and small.
The electronics are damaged, the wiring looks as though they were ready to overheat and explode, the electrical systems were either overloaded or were losing power due to faulty wires and half-functional computers littered the ship. That wasn’t even mentioning the external damage; some of the outer shell is so heavily battered that it threatens the integrity of the internal compartments. It was like they came through a warzone.
“By the Gods…” One technician said. “It’s a miracle they even managed to land.”
Looking up, the technician sees the dropships banking their vessels, before they fly off, high in the sky at great speeds.
Suddenly, the ramp to the ship opens up, and great clouds emerge from the interior. From that ramp comes a pair of people.
Colonel Graham, a pair of officers, and soldiers walk forward to greet them, and what they saw is a surprise.
Pointed, elongated ears that are as sharp as the finest blades, eyes with a depth and beauty to them that look so beautiful, yet with a hint of primordial danger to them.
Elves. A Xenos species that resembles humans but is well known for being extremely powerful Psychics and Alchemists in the galaxy. Graham crosses his arms, trying to keep a straight face, but curiosity is slowly taking over his mind.
It is rare to see Elves anywhere near the frontier, never mind in this place where the traffic is sporadic at best. As the two elves got off the ramp, Graham could have a better look at them.
His soldiers raise their weapons slowly. Approaching, but keeping a safe distance. Graham can sense the shaking in their arms, see the trembling in their legs and feet. Some could hardly breathe straight as they focused on the pair.
‘This isn’t good,’ Graham thought to himself.
The first Elf looked like she was in her younger years, although she is fully grown. Pitch-black goggles reminiscent of those used in skiing rest on her long brown hair. A large square armor plate, commonly used in body armor, stuck to her chest and hugged snuggly to her dark grey trench coat as a red scarf danced in the wind. Graham looked to her side and saw a strange spherical object floating closely by her.
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Following behind her is the second Elf, although this one is younger, and wearing suspender pants, all manner of gadgets and pieces of technology hang off her chest. Her back is burdened by a huge backpack and some kind of cylindrical object that he would only see kids use, containing snacks, no doubt. The little one looks out of place in a setting like this. The pair approaches, and the little one placed a side cap on her head, although it lacked a lot of the finer details.
Graham puts on a brave face and says, “Greetings, I am the commander of this base. I am Colonel Graham, an officer of the Teuton Empire. Might I have your names and the reason why your ship is so heavily damaged?”
“My name is Astrid, Astrid Rhinehoff, and this is my little sister Dori.”
Astrid scratches the back of her head as she lets out a sigh of relief.
“I have to say… I’m happy we managed to get here. Our ship has been harassed by Black Host raiders for days now, and we would have been chewed up and spat out if it weren’t for you!”
Dori, for her part, smiles and waves hello to the Colonel. “Hello, Mr. Colonel, my name is Dori!”
The Colonel couldn’t help but look at the young girl with a strange expression before he smiled and played along. “Um… Yes, hehe, it’s nice to meet you, little Miss Dori, although you can simply call me Mr. Graham, no need for such formalities.”
“Oh…” Dori looks down, placing her hands behind her back and moving her body from left to right, like what kids do when they do something wrong.
“I’m sorry, okay! From now on, Dori will call you Mr. Graham, I won’t forget!” She said cheerily.
The Teuton soldiers start to relax a bit, many letting out a sigh of relief before lowering their weapons.
The Colonel smiled, then looked back at the older sister. “You encountered raiders on the way? Hm…” Graham is processing this information.
“Miss Astrid, you seem to have a good grasp of our language, so I want to know, what exactly is the reason for coming here? Where are you from?”
Astrid reaches into her pocket and shows the Colonel a document, bound within a folder. As Graham opens it, he is surprised to find that it was a document detailing the application for residence for a non-Teuton citizen within the empire, and everything checks out.
At the end of the document, the application had been denied, but the photo of the individual it relates to bears a striking resemblance to the ones standing before him.
Graham flips through to the second piece of paper and finds a photocopy of a document detailing the same Elven woman, now registered as a citizen of a scarcely known planet-state whose trade ships they often see: the Republic of Sebirsk.
Astrid then says.
“That’s the reason… We came here because we’re looking for someone; we are making our way to the Teuton Empire because we are looking for our mother.”
Graham looks at the pair, wide-eyed, and notices that Astrid’s facial expression is a serious one, yet one that was also filled with a hint of other emotions, that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that the documents had the seal of approval from a high-ranking individual and not just anyone of high ranking.
The seal is the one used by the immigration office, as well as having the mark of the local provincial government, thus giving her temporary residence during her stay.
You wouldn’t find these sorts of documents on someone who had come here for the first time; she must have had some connections.
“Very well.” Graham hands the papers to one of the soldiers and says.
“Then please follow me, we can process you and your crew for entry, you must be hungry, no? I can arrange for basic accommodations.”
Looking at each other, Astrid takes the hand of her sister, and together the two follow Graham as they are led deeper into the base.
…
(Six months ago.)
The smell of freshly cooked food fills the air as a pair of sisters wakes up from a deep slumber, the morning sun greeting them from outside the window as birds chirp away from the balcony.
The elder sibling got up first, her ears twitching a little as she got her bearings, rubbing her eyes and getting up.
After a good old stretch, she walks over to her little sister and gently nudges her.
“Hey… Hey Dori, wake up, we gotta go get groceries while the market is still open.”
“Ugh.” Dori rolls around in bed and groans in protest. “Just five more minutes. Is it breakfast time yet?”
Astrid rubs the bridge between her eyes, “No, like I said, girl, we gotta go get groceries, c’mon, let’s go!”
Dori’s eyes narrow, her face contorting as though disappointed in something.
“Ooh, come on!”
Dori wraps herself in her blanket once more, but Astrid, having had enough of her little sister, yanks it from her and grabs her by the arms, forcefully pulling her up, much to the surprise of her younger sister. “Hey!” she exclaims. “No fair, I didn’t do anything!”
“Now’s not the time, get up! Food is getting thinner and thinner by the day, we gotta go!”
Astrid guides Dori down to the living room. She then makes her way to the bathroom and asks, “You gonna bath?”
“Hm… Nope!” Dori replies. “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
Dori walks over to the couch, and she plops down. The living room is a mess of a place, probably due to her leaving things where they shouldn’t be.
Pizza boxes lay piled up in a corner, wires crisscrossed all over the floor connecting to the TV, stains from food and drink blighted some parts of the old, rustic wooden floor, and clothes, both freshly washed and old, dirty ones, lay right next to each other. Dori chuckles at the sight of it.
If she doesn’t exist, then perhaps this house would be in better shape than it is; even the couch she sat on had seen better days.
Stretching, she reached out for the report and flipped on the TV. Immediately, Dori is bombarded with news.
The reporter fixes his tie and grabs his papers. “Good morning, my fellow Sebirskins. Today, we bring you news about the current crisis gripping our planet.”
A hologram shows up on the screen, depicting rising food prices and food shortages, alongside a map that shows major regions all across the world, most of them red and yellow and very few in green.
“Food and other daily necessities are experiencing major shortages, as farmland struggles to produce the necessary produce needed to feed the population. This has been attributed to a lack of special equipment and farming agents used to help make the crops grow, and without them, the harvest either became rotten or was infested with a great many diseases.”
“Ooh…” Dori frowns, “This is bad…”
A part of her heart starts to beat just a little bit slower, and her chest starts to hurt.
Astrid walks out of the bathroom, already dressed in fresh clothes. She goes over to Dori and sees the news.
“Oh…” She places her hand on her sister’s shoulder.
“Don’t think about it too much, we’ll see if we can get anything from the market today, and if not, well, we can always pick some fruit out in the wild, sound good?”
“Yeah… Sure,” Dori replies, she finds herself mesmerized by the report as it continues.
The reporter reaches for an earpiece and nods.
“This just in… The government has issued a nationwide rationing campaign, emergency measures have been set in place, and backup stocks of food have been opened. All citizens are advised to ration as much as possible. The government is also willing to hand out rewards to any farmer or rancher who can produce more food, and trade with off-world merchants is encouraged to procure more supplies off-world. Those who waste food will now face a 500 Mhur fine for the duration of this crisis.”
“By the Gods, I’ve heard enough,” Astrid turns off the television. Dori stands up, grabs her bag, and is delighted to see her favorite thing in the world fully charged.
“Yay! My laptop is fully charged, alright, we can go now, sis.”
“Sure, c’mon, we got food to catch.”
With a smile, Dori exits the door, followed eagerly by her big sister.
