It hadn't taken Rachel long to find the officers' accommodation in the White Spear. At first she had gone to level 138 where the lower ranks lived, but then she had laughed and realised her own mistake. The commanders' quarters were on level 139. There were also several suites on various levels of the surrounding Black Towers. Rachel had been lucky enough to be allocated quarters in the White Spear, one of the most sought after locations. She wished that she could show her new rooms to Lisa, but all the towers had strict security procedures in place. Only authorised personnel were allowed to enter, and that didn't include any family members. Rachel could understand the reasoning behind it. The enemies of Central Command were varied and many. Access to the towers had to be severely restricted. Lisa would have to suffice with a few images of her mother's new quarters for now. Rachel would tell her all about it when she had a chance to return home.
Rachel walked the full length of the corridor before she managed to find her quarters. She swiped her wrist console across the small panel beside the door. There was a button beneath the panel for visitors to use, but the door opened as soon as it had confirmed her identification codes. When the door rose into the ceiling, Rachel stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
Standing in the middle of the main room, she was immediately impressed. Her quarters were more than adequate for her needs. The room wasn't large, but it was certainly an improvement over her previous accommodation at Beacon Station. It was then that she noticed a door leading to another room. She couldn't believe she had been allocated a suite. She craned her neck to see through the doorway. The second room contained a bunk and a small shower room at the back. It was an impressive suite for any officer. Rachel wondered if General Markov's rooms would be even more spacious, or whether all officers had the same layout of rooms. Nick had been a commander but his quarters at Beacon Station had been terribly basic. No doubt Thompson had been responsible for that. After she and Nick had been transferred to Beacon Station, they had been stunned by the lack of space and poor conditions. It had been impossible to find any kind of comfort at all. Rachel could see that living in the White Spear was going to be a very different experience.
She found her equipment sacks waiting for her in the bunk room. Harris must have already transferred them from Beacon Station. How had he known that Markov would ask her to join them at the White Spear? Rachel smiled to herself. Maybe he had put more thought into her return than she realised.
The sacks had been arranged in a neat pile, leaning against the wall. She realised that they contained not only her equipment, but also the few personal effects that she had kept with her at Beacon Station. It wasn't much to look at, but it represented everything that she had been through, and everything that she had become. So much of her life had been experienced as a member of the security forces. Sometimes she felt like her earlier life hadn't happened at all. She could remember small parts of her late childhood, but at times, it felt as though she'd been nothing more than an empty shell before she had joined the security forces. Her memories of childhood faded day by day. She wasn't sad about it. She felt as though a strong current was carrying her through life. She was eager to see where that current would lead her.
Rachel could feel the towers pulling at the strings of her heart. Now that she was standing in the White Spear, she felt more at home than ever. She looked up at the pale orange ceiling of her bunk room, imagining the countless levels above. At times, she wondered whether the towers were alive somehow. The thought made her smile. She was becoming as foolish as Lisa in many ways. She brushed her hair back with one hand as she gazed around her room. Her bunk was large enough for two people but that brought her no joy. She bent down and touched the mattress with her hand. It felt much firmer than the one she had been allocated at Beacon Station. She couldn't feel any lumps in it and when she lifted her fingers the surface rebounded at once. She had to admit, with a mattress like this, there was a real danger she might actually get some sleep.
Laid out on top of her bunk, she found her new commander uniforms, just as Markov had promised. The jacket had her name printed in small text across the left breast.
HENSON
Rachel took her time admiring the small multicoloured insignia that had been sewn just above the breast pocket. It was a perfect copy of the one that Markov had given to her. She took a slow, deep breath and forced herself to hold back the years of pent up frustration that threatened to burst out of her in a flood of tears. She was a Commander now, and she was going to have to act like one. She had to show Markov that he had made the right decision to place his trust in her.
She straightened her hair and then washed her face in the small washbasin. She was beginning to realise that there were many benefits to being a commander. Besides the better living quarters, and the additional responsibilities, she would also have a better salary. If it had happened sooner, it would have made a real difference to her life, but now, with the inheritance of her father's estate, the additional credits wouldn't make much difference. She still smiled. She appreciated everything that she had been given. Nobody joined the security forces to get rich.
Rachel took a seat on her bunk and thought about Lisa. She knew that her daughter was still upset about her returning to work. In Lisa's idealistic mind, she had imagined Rachel staying at home forever, but Rachel had always known she would return to duty sooner or later. Lisa didn't like being left alone. Rachel could understand that. She wondered what she could do to give her more purpose in her life. She loved her daughter but she wanted to make her less dependent on her mother always being at home. Rachel had toyed with the idea of asking Lisa if she wanted to take an apprenticeship with one of the guilds. She was still young, but the guilds provided tailored education for children from an early age. They knew the importance of finding apprentices while they were still young. Joining a guild might help channel Lisa's inquisitive mind into something constructive. It could help take her mind off other things too. She had already been through so much in life. Nick's death had been difficult for both of them but it had been especially hard for Lisa. Being part of a guild might be just what she needed to add a little stability to her young turbulent life. Rachel nodded to herself. She would have to think about it, when she had time.
Rachel stood up and lifted her uniform in front of her, examining herself in a long mirror that was mounted on the wall. The dream had become reality, but she wondered where her dream would take her next. She walked across the room and took off her Major's jacket for the last time, placing it neatly on the back of a small wooden chair. Unbuckling her belt, she slipped down her trousers and removed her padded vest and undergarments before stepping through to the adjoining shower room. It was a luxury she should never get used to. She turned on the water jets, and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the hot water splashing across her neck and lower back. She let the heat penetrate her scars, remaining under the jets for a long time, hoping that the water would wash away a thousand bad memories. Her father was dead. Her back was covered in thin white scars, and she knew that she would never be able to argue with Nick about their daughter's future again.
Her relationship with Nick had been a long battle. Even now she didn't feel as though she had won that battle. There were so many things that remained unsaid between them. They had drifted apart, and Lisa had been the raft left floating between them. Their daughter had held them on a common course, but without Nick's opposing views, she began to doubt whether her own choices had ever been right at all. She knew she should be thankful that all those things were behind her. The water cleansed her body, but it couldn't cleanse the wounds of her soul. All she could do was bury her memories deep down inside herself. She would have to carry them with her and manage the best that she could.
She stayed in the shower for a long time. Eventually she turned off the water jets and shook the excess water from her hair. She stepped back into her bunk room and took some new undergarments from the holdall that she had packed the day before. Slipping them on, she dried her hair with a heated comb that she found embedded in the wall. Her hair was getting longer every day. It reached almost to her shoulders. It had been even longer when she had been a child. At one time, it had reached as far as her waist. Rachel smiled at the memory. It seemed a long time ago.
When her hair was dry, she wrapped a length of muscle support webbing around her lower back, and configured it to provide a slow release of heat over the next twelve hours. She strapped a thin layer of flexible armour on top before slipping into her combat trousers and finally putting on her commander's jacket. When she was fully dressed, she stood in front of the mirror once more, knowing that she was ready for duty. For once in her life, she was proud of her appearance. Her short black hair was brushed back and pinned in place with a couple of clips on each side, and her brown eyes sparkled more than they had for a long time. Even the crow's feet in the corners of her eyes were barely visible. Her uniform fit perfectly. Rachel allowed herself a small smile. It was time for her to make a fresh start. She would put the past behind her and make the most of the opportunities that had been given to her. Her father had never wanted her to join the security forces, but Rachel knew that if he could see her now, he would be very proud of her.
Time had passed so quickly since she had been in the White Spear. She had spent a little time sorting out her bunk room, straightening the cover on her bunk, and opening the last of her equipment sacks. She had been through most of them already, unpacking what she thought might be useful, but she still hadn't found what she was looking for. She hoped it hadn't been left behind. Finally she found it, tucked inside a towel where someone had wrapped it for protection. The frame was cracked in one corner, but she could fix that when she had time. She lifted her father's picture and looked at it under the lights. Moisture filled her eyes before she could focus on his smiling face. He was wearing a black suit and tie, as he had done for most of his adult life. He had always been a businessman, but he had also been a wonderful grandfather to Lisa. Rachel wiped the tears from her eyes and hung the picture on the wall where she would be able to see it from her bunk. She missed him so much now that he was gone. She wished that she had made more of an effort to mend their relationship while he was still alive, but she was at least thankful for how close he had been to her daughter. Lisa had loved her grandfather very much.