Rachel arrived outside Markov's office feeling unusually nervous. The scars on her back felt tight, and she knew that her fitness wasn't as good as it had been. Hundreds of fibre optic tubes in the ceiling bathed the corridor in natural light, bringing vivid detail to everything around her. She stood looking down at the brown marble floor as she gathered her thoughts. Delicate veins of red, white and grey gave a hidden depth to its beautiful surface.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady her nerves. It had been almost a month since she had worn her uniform, but the stiff black jacket already felt familiar on her shoulders. Her matching combat trousers felt lighter than she remembered. She hadn't yet filled her pockets with the weapons and equipment that she normally carried. She had received orders to go straight to General Markov's office as soon as she arrived. No doubt he wanted to talk to her before she resumed her duties at Beacon Station. She had never met a general before, but if they were anything like Admirals then she knew she was going to be in for a rough ride. She couldn't remember a time when Gail Thompson had ever treated her well.
Straightening her back, she pressed the button next to Markov's office door. Whether he let her straight in or left her standing in the corridor for a few minutes might be a good first indicator of how well they were going to get along. Rachel counted the seconds to distract herself. She reached a count of eight before the door slid up into the ceiling and she found herself staring at a man with no neck, sitting behind a wide black desk.
'Welcome,' Markov said, with a smile that filled his face and made his jaw look impossibly wide. His smile seemed genuine. It left Rachel feeling unbalanced. She had been expecting anger, bitterness or indifference, the staple foods of her career so far, but a kind smile left her nonplussed. She stepped into the office and tried to maintain a neutral expression despite the conflicting thoughts and emotions that welled up inside her.
Markov's uniform was stretched to its limits. She wondered whether he wore his webbed armour to protect him from attack or to prevent his own muscles from tearing his uniform apart from the inside. His square head perched on top of wide shoulders without any apparent need for a neck. Rachel wanted to turn and run back towards the Air Route. She forced herself to stand still, waiting patiently to hear whatever he had to say to her. Thompson had always imposed her dominance by force and manipulation. Markov looked like a man whose authority came from experience and physical strength. She felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She was never very good at dealing with authority figures. Open confrontation had never caused her any problems, but exchanging polite smiles with her superiors had always left her cold.
Markov's smile tilted to one side as he took in her uncomfortable expression. His thin brown hair barely covered the top of his head. It was cut so short on the sides that it was little more than stubble. Rachel stepped forwards until she was standing in front of his desk, staring down at him. Something moved to her right, and when she turned, she was surprised to see Commander Vanmarek leaning against the wall, just inside the door.
'You're looking well, Rachel,' he said. 'How do you feel?'
'I feel good,' Rachel said. It wasn't quite true but she hoped that by saying it she might start to believe it herself. At least she wasn't alone with the general. Having another commander present made the situation feel a little less formal. It was comforting to have a few more people around. 'I'm ready for duty,' she said as an afterthought.
Vanmarek nodded as though he had expected nothing else.
Rachel almost jumped when she heard a deep laugh behind her. She recognised the laugh at once. Harris must have followed her in through the open door. She pursed her lips. Sitting on her bottom for weeks had left her a lot less observant than she ought to be. She needed to seriously sharpen her wits before she got involved in any combat operations.
Harris slapped her on the back a little harder than necessary. 'You're as tough as nails. That's what I always said. I knew you'd be back.'
Rachel suppressed a wince and offered a vague smile in return. She tried not to think about the waves of pain that radiated through her back from where his hand had slapped her. It had only been a friendly gesture, but she had felt it like a punch. Her mind was ready for duty. She just hoped that her body would soon catch up.
'Don't push yourself too hard,' Vanmarek said. 'Ease yourself back into it. I want to see you back at your full strength before you sign up for any combat operations.'
Rachel nodded. 'I'm okay,' she said. 'I'm ready now.'
Markov leant forwards, resting his large hands on the desk in front of him. 'That was some recovery you made,' he said. 'A while back, I heard a rumour that you were paralysed. I can't tell you how relieved I was when Commander Harris informed me that the rumour was wrong. He keeps telling me that you're keen to return?
'This is where I belong,' Rachel said.
Markov leant back in his chair, appraising her with calm, grey eyes. 'When Harris told me that you wanted to come back so soon, I thought you must be thinking of a desk job.'
Rachel cringed. 'Desk job?'
'Don't panic. That's not why I called you here today.'
'I'm ready for combat operations,' Rachel said.
Markov smiled with a hint of kindness in his eyes. 'Let's not rush into that just yet. The main thing is that you're back. Harris here has been telling me all about you. From what he's told me, I'm amazed that Central Command hasn't fallen apart in your absence.'
Rachel frowned at Harris. She hadn't noticed him enter the room. He was now standing next to the wall on her left. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace. 'I may have exaggerated slightly,' he said.
Harris was easily the tallest man in the room. His broad shoulders reminded her that despite his kind grey eyes and his grey flecked beard, he was a combat veteran. He had seen more combat operations than she would probably ever see in her life.
'I only did my duty,' Rachel said. 'Like everyone else.'
'I only told the general the good bits,' Harris said with a wink. 'It's good to have you back, Rachel. I thought you were... well, it's good that you're okay.'
'Major Henson,' Markov said, folding his arms in front of his barrel chest and speaking in a more formal tone. 'There's a few things I need to discuss with you, if you're feeling up to it.'
'I'm fine, General. Please ask your questions.'
'There's no good way to say this, but it's something that I have to ask before we can move forwards.'
Rachel braced herself, expecting the worst.
'Why did you attack Admiral Gail Thompson in her office?'
Rachel hunched her shoulders in frustration. Thompson was like a ghost that never stopped haunting her. 'She lied to me. Thompson accused me of doing things that I didn't do. She tried to blame me for the net-feed droids going to Havers Compound. I told her that I had nothing to do with that, but she wouldn't listen to me.'
Muscles rippled along the side of Markov's short, thick neck as he gazed up at her with unblinking eyes. 'Sounds like reason enough for a disagreement perhaps, but it was more than that, wasn't it?'
Rachel looked to Harris for help, but he stood in silence, regarding his own boots.
'I was provoked,' she said.
Markov nodded, his lips forming a thin line as he watched her from behind his desk. 'I've seen the visual logs. That was some fight you had. There must have been more to it than a few accusations.'
'If you've seen the visual logs, you must have heard what she said.'
'No, I haven't. Thompson erased the sound. She tried to erase the images too, but she made a mistake. She didn't realise the logs had been replicated across multiple log stacks. She only deleted the images from one stack. Maybe she did it on purpose. I'm wondering if she wanted the fight to be recorded so she could use it as evidence against you later. Maybe she thought it would be more damning if we couldn't hear what she was saying.'
'I don't understand,' Rachel said. 'What are you asking me?'
'I'm asking you what Thompson said to make you react that way. I'm interested to know what nerve she touched. Was there some history between you two?'
Rachel pushed her shoulders back, standing straight despite the lingering pain in her back. She placed her hands behind the small of her back and stared straight ahead. 'Thompson and I never got along. I'm not surprised she wanted to erase the sound. She was itching for a fight from the moment I stepped into her office. There was never much respect between us. Thompson had something against me and Nick from the start.'
'I got that feeling as well,' Vanmarek said. 'Do you know what she had against you?'
'I don't know,' Rachel said. 'I tried so many times to work it out, but I never got an answer that was worth thinking about. She just despised me. I think it was as simple as that. Maybe I was an inconvenience. Maybe she didn't like me questioning her decisions.'
'I don't think she liked anyone questioning her decisions,' Harris said, regarding her from beneath his thick black eyebrows. 'Maybe I should have questioned her more myself, rather than waiting for others to voice my concerns for me.'
'What did she say to you in her office?' Markov said, looking at Rachel. 'I'm interested to know what made the two of you get up and start swinging like that.'
'It wasn't any one thing,' Rachel said. 'It was many things, an accumulation of arguments and ill feeling that had been building up for a long time. She was pushing me, driving me into a corner with her lies and accusations. She told me that Trent had taken my father hostage. When I asked her what we were going to do to get my father out of there, she said we weren't going to do anything. She didn't care about him at all. She didn't care about me either. This wasn't about the operation at Havers Compound. She summoned me to her office for a reason. She wanted to provoke me. She wanted to draw me into a fight. She wanted to trick me into doing something that she could use against me later, something that would be on the visual logs for all to see. That's what I think. She had already transferred me to Beacon Station. She thought it would break me, but it didn't. I think she wanted me out of Central Command.'
'So you punched her in the head?' Markov said.
'She hit me first. You know that if you saw the visual logs. I tried to leave. I knew I was getting angry, and I knew Thompson was deliberately provoking me. I just wanted to get out of her office, to put some distance between us until I could find a place to cool off. I got up and tried to walk out of her office. I didn't know what else to do.'
'Thompson never did like Rachel,' Harris said. 'I can vouch for that. I never could figure out why either. Some people are just born different. I don't think she thought much of me either, though we never came to blows over it.'
Markov turned his head to one side, looking pensive. 'There are ways of resolving disputes that don't involve using your fists,' he said. 'There's no excuse for such behaviour, especially when dealing with a superior officer.'
'She kicked me in the back,' Rachel said. 'I almost passed out. Thompson should not have attacked me like that. It wasn't the kind of behaviour I expect from an Admiral. That's why I lost respect for her. If she had behaved according to her rank, then none of this would have happened.'
Rachel listened to her own words. It sounded like a long list of weak excuses. She didn't want to be the one who complained about fairness or what was right and wrong. She wanted to be better than that. General Markov was just asking her why she had rendered his predecessor unconscious in her own office. It was a reasonable question to ask. Rachel didn't want to start off on the wrong foot yet again. She needed to swallow her pride and forget the past. Only then could she move on. Markov was watching her. She didn't know what thoughts were going through his head.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'What I did was wrong.'
'You sounded as though you almost meant that,' Vanmarek said with a quiet laugh.
Rachel shot him a look that made his smile falter.
He brushed a hand through his thick copper blonde hair. 'Hey, take it easy. I'm on your side. Besides, I just got my teeth fixed. I don't want them knocked through the back of my head just yet.'
'If I allow you to return to duty,' Markov said. 'You'll be reporting to me. In the course of our duties we'll have differences of opinion. You might not like my orders any more than you liked Thompson's. You might have ideas of your own. What are you going to do when our paths cross, Henson? Punch me in the head?'
Rachel shook her head.
'Do you have any plans to throw me across the room if I say something that you don't like?'
'No, General. I don't.'
'Well, I'm pleased to hear it, because I'd be forced to break your head in return.' Markov held her gaze long enough to be sure that she had taken him seriously.
Rachel didn't question his words.
He nodded and sat back in his chair. 'If you'll bear with me,' he said. 'There are few things I need to fill you in on before you start duty.'
Rachel held back a small smile. She kept her hands behind her back, listening carefully. She might still pull through this meeting if she held her tongue and remembered to show some respect to her superiors.
'Admiral Gail Thompson is no longer in command here, as you may have gathered. She is now in the custody of Lord Hades.'
Rachel nodded. 'Are there any charges against her?'
'Plenty. We are still working out what some of them are, but we know enough to damn her beyond redemption for as long as she lives. The rest will be more dirt in an already full pit.'
'Is she in the detention cells?' Rachel said.
'No, she isn't. She's been exiled. She won't be coming back, regardless of the outcome of any further enquiries.'
'Exiled?'
'Yes.'
Rachel looked to Harris for explanation.
He shrugged his wide shoulders and rubbed a hand through his short, greying beard. 'It hasn't happened for a long time,' he said, 'but it's happened now. Times are changing.'
Rachel turned back to Markov. 'There's something else you're not telling me,' she said.
Markov studied her across his desk as though she represented some unusual puzzle. 'I hear you've inherited a news network,' he said.
Rachel raised her eyebrows.
'Aren't you now the new CEO of Mekinet News?'
'No. I'm not,' Rachel said, shaking her head. 'My father was the CEO and founder of the Mekinet News Corporation. I was his only daughter. He had no sons, so he left the business to me. He always wanted me to work for him. He was disappointed because I wasn't interested in the news business. I have no intention of taking his place as CEO. I didn't ask him to leave the business to me, and I wish that he hadn't.'
'If you're not taking the role of CEO, will you be taking a different position, now that your father has gone?'
'No. I won't be taking any role at Mekinet News.'
Markov nodded, his grey eyes gazing back at her. 'What will you do with your father's corporation?'
Rachel tried not to show her frustrations. She didn't know why Markov was asking so many damned questions. She loved her father dearly, but he had always complicated her life. 'I'm talking to various people about the options available,' she said. 'The existing Vice President has been running the business in my father's absence. I'm inclined to let him continue.'
Markov nodded. 'So you're still interested in a full-time career with the security forces?'
'Yes,' Rachel said. 'That's all I ever wanted.'
Markov looked her up and down, weighing her worth with his deep grey eyes. 'Very well. Commander Harris has filled me in on the details of what happened at Havers Compound. He also told me all about what happened in the basement of the Mekinet News building. I've seen various reports from several different sources, and they all corroborate his statements. It is clear from the evidence gathered by the investigators that Thompson was unfair in her dealings with a lot of people. She failed to maintain the standards of behaviour expected of an Admiral. Many officers and crew have given evidence against her. I've been through a mountain of reports in the last few weeks, and it is clear to me that Thompson was the cause of many injustices within Central Command. She was also the perpetrator of many treacherous acts. Some of her actions can no longer be rectified because it is too late, but some of her decisions can be corrected, and that's what I'm going to do now.'
Rachel's thoughts raced in circles. 'I'm not sure what you are saying. Am I in trouble again?'
'Yes, you are,' Markov said, lowering his eyebrows. 'You're in more trouble than you could possibly imagine. I want you to come and join us here in the White Spear.'
Rachel opened her mouth to complain, but she had no idea what she was complaining about.
'You've served your time at Beacon Station, and you've done an excellent job from what I've heard. These are difficult times for Central Command, and I need good officers here in the heart of Cinnamon City. We have a great deal of work to do in the next few months.'
Rachel tried not to show her excitement. The White Spear was the core of Central Command. It was where every member of the security forces hoped to be based one day. It was an exciting place, full of possibilities, and far removed from the dusty death trap that had been Beacon Station. She had always wanted to return to duty, but she had also dreaded returning to the bad memories that surrounded Beacon Station. It would have been difficult returning to such a bleak place, with so many memories of Nick and her dead crew. If she was going to be based in the White Spear, she wouldn't have to face any of those things. She would be able to start afresh with new colleagues and new surroundings. For the first time in months, she felt a surge of hope rising within her.
'I assume you have no objection to being relocated to the White Spear,' Markov said with an even look.
Rachel smiled. 'No, General. None at all. I look forward to it.'
Markov looked as though he was expecting her to say something else, but when Rachel didn't add any further comment, he continued with what he was saying. 'There's another reason that I invited Commander Harris and Commander Vanmarek to join us today.'
Rachel glanced at her colleagues with questions in her eyes. Harris nodded with a smile, and Vanmarek winked at her.
'I needed two Commanders to bear witness to a declaration of a change in rank,' Markov said.
Rachel was lost. 'A what?'
'Hold out your hand,' Markov said.
Rachel frowned, uncertain of what was happening. All her hopes and fears crashed into each other at once.
'Give him your hand, Rachel,' Harris said.
Rachel held her left hand over the desk. She stared at it as though she expected Markov to hit it with a stick.
Markov reached out and gently turned her hand so the palm was facing upwards. He placed a small wooden box in her open palm. Wood was a rarity in the Orange Zone. There were not many forests, and the trees were usually protected further north. Rachel lifted her hand until she could see the box more clearly. She traced one finger across its intricately carved surface and wondered what it could be.
'Open it,' Harris said.
Rachel searched for the fine line that separated the box's lid from its base. Lifting the lid with one finger, she gazed down at the small strip of coloured cloth that lay across a blue velvet cushion inside. Words deserted her. She had seen one of these before, when she had sat with Nick, sorting through boxes of his possessions before they had first moved in together. She stared into the box as though staring into a deep dark hole.
'Major Rachel Henson,' Markov said. 'As born witness by Commander Richard Vanmarek and Commander Jake Harris, and in the presence of General Alexander Markov, you are hereby raised to the rank of Commander.'
Tears formed in Rachel's eyes.
'You will be provided with new quarters on level 139 of the White Spear, as is appropriate to your new rank. Your uniforms have been made and they are waiting for you in your quarters. Do you accept this new rank and do you pledge to serve Central Command, providing loyal service to your senior officers, the citizens of Cinnamon City and the leader of the Council of Lords?'
'I do,' Rachel said. She gripped the box with both hands in fear that she might drop it onto the floor.
'Do you promise not to punch your commanding officer in the head?'
'I do,' Rachel said, laughing between her tears.
'Then you are raised to the rank of Commander,' Markov said.
Harris stepped forwards and extended his hand. 'Congratulations, Commander Henson.'
Rachel smiled like she hadn't smiled in years. She shook his hand and gripped it tight. 'Thank you,' she said. 'For everything.'
'Good to have you finally join us,' Vanmarek said with a nod. 'You should have been promoted years ago.'
Rachel shook his hand too and then shook Markov's as he stood up and reached across the desk. His hand was bigger than any she had shaken before, but it didn't matter. She was overcome with everything that had happened to her. She had expected criticism and punishment but instead she had received praise and promotion. Excitement rose up inside her.
'These are troubled times,' Markov said in a more serious tone. 'The days ahead will be difficult for all of us. I know you will serve us well.'
Rachel nodded and looked at the insignia in her hand. It belonged to her now, but it was much more than just a small piece of coloured cloth. It represented everything that she had been through for the last seven years, and every struggle that she had overcome. She had questioned her own abilities every time her successes had gone unrewarded. She had told herself that others had been more worthy, and that she understood why they had been promoted in her place, but deep down she had known that something was wrong. In the last year, she had begun to accept that she would never be a commander, but today, as she stood in General Markov's office on shaky, aching legs, it had all finally come true. She held the box tight so she wouldn't lose herself in the moment. Maybe now that Thompson was gone, her life would finally begin to run smooth. She just wished that Nick had been there to see her success. He would have been so proud of her.