Carina Valencia

[NebulaCloud]

Racing along at close to the speed of light was a thrill the first time Carina had experienced it, but after what must have been hundreds of times through the trade lanes it was routine. It would almost be dull, were it not for the mild nausea that subtly turned her stomach every time the trade lane rings wrenched her little ship out of conventional existence and launched it into luminal travel. Even with the inertial dampeners it was still disorienting, even though she knew that without them the acceleration would literally kill her. Someone had once tried to explain to her how the trade lanes worked, but he'd used so many huge words and equations that she hadn't really listened very hard. The explanation of the jump gates was even more confusing. Time dilation fields, relativistic adjustments, dimensional bubbles, it was all gobbledegook to her. All she understood was that it got her from one point to another before her hair turned gray, and that was explanation enough for her. The staggering scale of the universe compared to the human scale was enough to rattle a common person's sanity, and either make them come to terms with the idea of God, or perhaps simply remind one of humanity's comparable insignificance.

Shooting through the trade lanes as a passenger on a civilian transport was an entirely different experience than blasting along in the tiny patrol ship she piloted. As a passenger, she felt the effects in the pit of her gut, but her view was limited to the white and gray streaks out of one of the viewing ports alongside the liner's hull, if there was one at all. Sitting here in the cockpit perch, seperated from the infinite, unforgiving black by a bubble of duraglass was wholly more real. She idly brushed her thumb across the top of her currently inert flight stick, riding the current of light as if it were a wave, rushing her along to her destination. Another Liberator was visible ahead of her, barely a dark speck in the wavering white patterns-- her patrol partner Buck Frost. Up ahead, through the milky streaks, she could see the blue oceans and white-capped mountains of Denver rushing into her view, growing exponentially larger with each passing second until the planet looked as if it would slam right into her, pulverizing her to dust without so much as a flinch. The first time she'd jumped to planetary orbit she'd almost panicked, barely restraining herself from manually disengaging from the trade lane and turning away. It'd been quite the source of amusement for the instructor she'd been flying with at the time.

Her ship's engines began to whine and vibrate as they started to kick in again, and she felt the dampeners doing their job while the trade lane decelerated them, bringing them back into normal space. "Home sweet home," a voice crackled over the radio as the giant glowing sphere of Denver stabilized in their view, filling the bulk of their vision. Shipping traffic moved to and fro, moving between the trade lanes, a few bigger ships lazily drifting in orbit high above the planet, and orbital stations bristling with solar panels and docking stems seemed to be almost stationary in space, even though she knew they weren't. "That's the end of our shift, Valencia."

"Copy that," she replied as she flipped switches on her console and gripped the flight stick, reassuming control of her patrol craft. Her training had made the daunting list of routine checks and tasks of flying completely automatic, and the giddy joy of it all had long since subsided. But even though flying had become routine, and all of her patrols so far had been uneventful save for a few cargo checks she'd been present for, she still felt a sense of satisfaction when she touched down at the end of a patrol. She revelled in the air of authority her uniform exuded when she walked down the street, and was always meticulous about keeping it clean and pressed, her shoes shined, and her badges practically reflective. She'd never felt like she could walk around with her chin held so high or her shoulders so far back before. Thinking about it made her smile a little, unconsciously, as she steered her Liberator's nose toward the docking ring and pulsed the thrusters, following in formation behind her superior's craft.

"Let's set down planetside and I'll meet you in the debriefing room so we can get our paperwork started," Frost's voice spoke in her ears. "Remind me to make sure they look at my ventral thruster too, I think it's acting up again."

"Right," she replied, and adjusted the oxygen mask pressing on her face.

Another voice came in over their channel, the automated drone originating from the planet's docking ring. "LPI patrol Upsilon, you are cleared to land. Turn to heading three-one-niner and maintain present speed. Approach to one-five-zero-zero and stand by for docking procedure."

She let out a little sigh. "Home sweet home," she wistfully breathed to no one, keeping her thumb off the radio transmit button. When she'd completed her training she'd pushed as hard as she could to get assigned to the Texas system so she could be close to her family, but to no avail. She wondered if she'd been assigned to Colorado because she'd been so adamant. Several other rookies she'd trained with had gotten their first preference of jurisdiction, and it irritated her that hers had been ignored. Even more pessimistically, she wondered if the fact that she was of Hispanic descent played a role, or whether her father's criminal record had condemned her wishes from the start.

She blinked hard and shook her head, forcing herself to pay attention to what she was doing. She certainly had felt discriminated against all along, but it was a done deal now. Nothing to be done about it. She'd been fortunate enough to get the job she'd been dreaming of for years, so she figured she should be grateful. She'd found a decent enough apartment in one of the major metropolitan zones on Denver, close to the spaceport, and could afford to keep it and still have plenty of money left over to feed herself and send a sizable chunk back home. Let the other intolerant buffoons have their racist thoughts. She was a cop now, and she intended to be the best.

Frost was different, however. He was one of the few she truly respected. Always had a cool head, every word out of his mouth seemed collected and well thought out. He'd taken her under his wing in the last several patrols, and always valued her input, even if he didn't agree with it, and was more than willing to answer questions she had. He also appeared to have the same respect for his uniform as she did. Whether they were in the briefing room or on a coffee break, Frost was always well spoken and poised with a crisp appearance, even though most of the other officers didn't have the same care for their demeanor. She wrinkled her nose as she thought of some of the fat, slovenly veteran officers that on a good day might even remember to tuck in their shirt, but the rest of the time were more interested in testing the limits of their tazers or scarfing down donuts than upholding the law. She'd wondered for weeks now if some of them were any more than thugs with guns and badges. Even though she hadn't yet encountered any, she had heard numerous stories of pirates and brigands plaguing the more remote trade lanes in Liberty space, even a few getting away with heinous acts of robbery in the core systems. LPI had the manpower to curtail it; she had often wondered why she heard about it so often.

"You're drifting a bit close, Valencia," Frost chimed in over the radio.

She snapped out of her daydream again, silently scolding herself. "Sorry sir," she replied, firing the forward thrusters to decelerate and banking away from his craft to avoid possibility of a collision. "Dammit girl, keep your head out of the frakking clouds," she murmured to herself.

"That's good. Here we go. Time to set down and wind down," he said.

Carina watched as Frost's Liberator cruised through the docking ring and slipped into the atmosphere, the soft halo of fire fading in below him. She followed suit, guiding her ship into the slip until the remote pilot took control, guiding her down to the planet's surface. She felt the ship shudder as she hit the upper atmosphere herself, and leaned back in her seat, watching the fireball envelop her during the descent.

"Home... sweet home."

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