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Tachyon

Living on the Edge

“Living on the Edge”

Anastasia Poldara

Stardate 0801.22

------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The past four days had been a whirlwind of activity for Anastasia. She went back to Earth to tell Michael the good news before going off to San Francisco. First she needed to undergo testing to determine if she was still qualified to serve on a starship. With less than a month to go before Challenger left, she had to squeeze two weeks of testing into two days.

 

Somehow, though, Anastasia survived that ordeal—only to wind up in an even worse one. EVA training had never been her favourite. The idea of being separated from the vacuum of space by a thin shell of a suit around your body didn't excite her in the least. Now she was doing three hours of EVA a day, tactical training, and on-the-job training in a simulcrum of the Challenger's main science lab. In a week or so, she learned, she would be able to actually visit her new ship.

 

Telling Michael she had gotten the position was easy. He already knew. Telling her family, on the other hand. . . .

 

Her older sister Marina looked radiant. Motherhood really suited her. She had inherited their mother's fair hair and complexion, unlike Anastasia, who tended more toward her father's side of the family. For someone who had just had a baby, she looked quite good—if someone exhausted.

 

“Ana,” she said—always Ana or Anastasia, never “sister,” a title reserved for their two younger siblings. “How good to hear from you. You sounded excited in your message. I take it you have news.”

 

“Yes, yes, but let me see him first,” Anastasia said.

 

Marina smiled. “One moment.” She got up and left the viewer, returning a few moments later with a baby in hand. “Ana, meet your nephew, Liam.” The baby gurgled a bit and stared at the screen blankly.

 

“Liam?”

 

“His father's choice,” said Marina dismissively. “I'd love him no matter what his name was, though, wouldn't I? Yes I would.” She was talking more to Liam now.

 

Anastasia cleared her throat. “Um . . . so my news.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Well, it's all very sudden and unexpected. Michael and I've discussed it though, he seems fine. I wasn't too sure—it's a lot of responsibility—”

 

“Oh goodness, Ana! I'm so happy for you,” said Marina. “So Liam will have a cousin soon?!”

 

“I know, I—what? No! No, not that, Marina. I mean, we've tried, but—no. I'm talking about getting assigned to the USS Challenger as its science officer.”

 

“Oh. The Challenger—that's the new Excelsior class ship, no? Well, perhaps not a child, but still very good tidings indeed—although I suppose mama will not be happy about it.”

 

Anastasia shook her head. “Not at all.” Her mother was the sort of person who wanted to control her children's lives well into their adulthood. She had been ecstatic when Anastasia elected to, in her own words, “settle down” with Michael here on Earth instead of “traipsing about the galaxy” on a starship. When Anastasia had told her about Challenger, she had looked on the verge of a heart attack.

 

“She gave me her 'I don't see why you can't just settle down and start a family' lecture for about half an hour, and then papa managed to get her away—thank goodness for small favours,” Anastasia said. “The preparations I'm having to go through are so overwhelming, I don't need mama right now.”

 

“I'll try to distract her with little Liam here,” Marina said, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Space, Ana! I remember when we were kids always hearing you go on about it. And then when I went off to piloting school, you came and visited me—such a precocious five-year-old! Oh Ana. We're getting old.”

 

Anastasia laughed. “Not yet, Marina. Soon, but not yet. I've got quite a few places to go before I retire.”

 

“Well, I hope your voyages are as exciting as you desire, dear Ana. Come home and visit us soon!”

 

“I will! Bye, Marina.”

 

*****

 

Moscow

 

“The assignment is official. She will be the science officer.”

 

If she passes the tests.”

 

“She will. You underestimate her own strength. She might well have gotten the position on her own merit, had she applied sooner. And if her scores need some . . . nudging, that will be arranged. All is in order.”

 

“Excellent. Then we can proceed on to the next phase. Your assistance is much appreciated, Commander Asquith. My people will be in contact soon for your compensation. Out.”

 

The silver-haired woman terminated the transmission. The routing program that bounced it off half a dozen satellites disengaged, and the console wiped any log of the conversation. She chewed absently on a pencil and stared at her dim reflection against the black console.

 

Her daughter was going into space. All according to plan.

Edited by Tachyon

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