Ma, Pa, Squeakers
Illoia stood, with her husband, in an enormous debarkation line… a line which literally went into several rooms along the coordior. They stood with only a Commanders and two Staff Majors standing in front of them. Behind them were a couple of dozen leaders, then a mass of other ranks: mostly draftees and recruits.
“Why so few other officers?” she whispered to Tomirosh.
“Because leaders get family leave as soon as possible after being promoted. Other officers have to take time off from their assignment, which is difficult to get. After all, most trips home take over a year or so for most of us. Not counting our wive’s families. Same for Middys and Top Rankers… they have a hard time getting time off. We try to occasionally give an assignment back on their home planet when we can. Those that live, that is.”
“But what about you? Didn’t you get time off for your awards?”
“I could have if I wanted, but it would have spoiled the effect. Get a promotion then take a year off to visit my family, hardly stuff out of which generals are made.”
The door opened and the crowd surged forward. Illoia gasped as the disenfectant spray washed over them, then desperately held her breath as they walked the rest of the way through the coorridor.
“Ugh, that was awful!” she said.
“Not the way they do it for first class?” he asked.
“No! They take us into this room… ugh… I swallowed some. Do you think I will be all right?”
“I imagine things will taste funny for a while, but I believe it is medically safe. Keep moving, I want us to get to the vid booths. Even though you sent a message with your friend… at least I assume that is why she demanded special treatment?”
“Ummm… yes? I mean, she didn’t tell me about that but, yes, I sent her to tell my father, personally.
Tom pulled her toward a sign saying, ‘Vid booths’, where there were a whole series of very small three sided compartments, most of them with a shimmering privacy curtain in front of them. “I don’t understand why we couldn’t do this from the ship,” she complained, as they sought an open booth.
“I don’t either,” he said. “I heard it had something to do with hacking, but I’ve always thought it was just a way for the station to make more money. Here, here’s one. We need to hurry, the whole ship wants to vid, practically.”
Illoia and Tom crammed into the booth, and Illoia quickly inputed her ID and the address. “Mama, Papa, Squeakers!” she said, willing her voice to sound excited, “I have a husband!” she pulled on his arm, pulling him a little further into the picture. “His name is Tomirosh and Papa will tell you all about him. He’s a hero!”
She felt Tom stiffen against her, but, if he could use his hero status, so could she! She had to walk in front of everybody for the fresher and even to get off the ship! “We are assigned to Taltus IV, so you all can study that for school! We leave in half an hour, so I won’t get to be coming down. And we have to hurry with this message, as everybody else is waiting for the booth. I’ve sent lots of vids hand carry, so you’ll get to hear all about my whole trip. Bye!”
She tagged the message to get delivered tomorrow morning, and pulled Tom out of the booth. “I’m sorry for playing on your ‘hero’ status,” she whispered, “But…”
“I understand,” he said. “It will help sell our marriage to your family, and, from them, to the rest of the planet. Let’s get on the ship.”
“Aren’t we going to do any shopping?” she asked. The stores on the station had things from all over occupied space, and there was no planet duty or landing fees. And she didn’t think there would be a station on Talutus IV.
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Links
Article 17
Article 17 is a military science fiction story with aliens and romance. It is set in a future reminiscent of Napoleon era Britain. The war was going very poorly until the military installed a dictator. This story follows one of the dictator’s great men: Cladin Tomirosh, Leader, and thrice decorated hero.
Intro // Podcast Version
She was pretty, popular, snobby, and a planetary governor’s daughter. He was the son of shopkeepers, a social misfit, and a decorated hero. She thought she was there to dance. He had other ideas.
A Dance // Podcast Version
As a governor’s daughter, Illoia usually avoided such events, but when the captain made the announcement that there was to be an Article 17 dance, she, too, was forced to attend. If only the scum hadn’t been there too.
The Unbridgeable Chasm // Podcast Version
Eukles and Meriones, brave military leaders, quail at the idea of crossing the gulf between themselves and asking a lass to dance.
There He Is // Podcast Version
The young hero comes in, and Aleshia and Illoyia gossip about him.
Look at the Young Hero // Podcast Version
The young hero comes in, and greets Eukles and Meriones… and announces his intentions.
Target // Podcast Version
Tom, Leader Cladin Tomirosh, sets his sights on the governors daughter. She isn’t impressed.
Fuming // Podcast Version
Tom and Illoia dance, while she desperately tries to get him to go away!
Now’s Our Chance! // Podcast Version
Eukles and Meriones use Tom and Illoia as a distraction and stalk their own girls.
To Slap or Not to Slap // Podcast Version
Meriones introduces himself to his new wife with a slap on the backside.
No Sane Man // Podcast Version
Illoia insults the young hero, and he proposes.
Never You, Darling // Podcast Version
Illoia finds herself unable to turn down his proposal.
A Wild Dance // Podcast Version
Illoia finds being Tom’s Consented Wife hard… with wild New Irish dances and immodest ones.
Registered // Podcast Version
A new marriage is registered. All hail the dictator!
Middy’s Got a Lass! // Podcast Version
Medinia is deliriously happy… she got 17d!
A Duel to the Death // Podcast Version
Illoia wakes up next to her new husband.
So, they decon fully clothed? Do the uniforms make stripping unnecessary?
So, timewise her friend should have been able to reach the Governor well before she had a chance to send her vid message?
Absolutely she needs to trade on his hero status. Her father is going to trade on it as well, once he gets over the initial shock. To be able to say "My son-in-law, the Hero," just as proudly as if he had set the whole thing up himself.