Sarna Martial Academy
Sarna
Sarna Commonality
Capellan Confederation
15 May, 3172
Thankfully it was May, and while it was still warm for her taste, at least it was not the swealtering humid heat for which Sarna was known for most of the year. Today, while warm, saw a gentle breeze blowing across the open fields surrounding the Sarna Martial Academy. The breeze was strong enough to gently ripple the flags that stood above the main building, the flag of the Capellan Confederation the highest, with the flags of Sarna and various military unit's whose members were in attendance at the graduation ceremony earlier today flying decidedly lower.
Lady Freyja McCarron stood at the podium, one of several assembled for the occasion where the assorted media outlets could pester their target of choice with a few questions. Freyja was in attendance today for her twin daughters, both of whom had just graduated, but owing to her position as a member of the nobility, it was expected that she make an appearance in front of the media with her recently commissioned children.
She wore a conservatively cut suit, black with bronze highlights, suitably Capellan for the occasion, with a green blouse underneath. Her hair, still the golden blonde of her youth, she wore braided intricately, and highlighted with crystals from her holdings in the periphery. She hated playing up her Capellan heritage, but her daughters had chosen to attend school in the confederation, and if anything, a certain level of Capellan pride was expected of anyone making an appearance at any sort of formal event within the Confederation borders.
She was flanked by her two daughters. To her left stood Hope, the more delicate of the two, her hair a golden blonde that matched Freyja's own perfectly, pulled up in a perfectly regulation bun. Her eyes shone with a soft blue that radiated calm. She stood at a parade rest, her slender figure somehow managing to cut a commanding pose in spite of her slight stature.
To Freyja's right, also at parade rest, stood her other daughter, Azalea. She was, in many ways, the opposite of Hope. She was more toned and athletic, and her stance looked as if she were ready to bolt into action, whatever the action may be. Her eyes were a deep, dark brown that almost enveloped you with their gaze. They matched her dark brown hair, which she wore tightly in a less than regulation ponytail, her lips pursed in a display that showed she wanted to be anywhere but where she was.
Freyja leaned in to the microphone. "I'll only take a few questions, so be brief and on point. I'm sure you understand, I'd like to spend some time with my girls on an occasion like this" she smiled a smile that was practiced enough to placate the audience. As she stopped speaking, a sea of hands immediately raised, and she pointed aimlessly at one, being totally unfamiliar with the local media.
"Lady McCarron, as one of the few in your family to have never served in the Capellan Military, can you describe the sense of pride you feel at having not one, but two daughters joining the loyal ranks of the Capellan janshi?!"
If that wasn't a backhanded compliment, I don't know what is. "Of course, this is a great day for our family. Citizenship is earned in the confederation, and as I'm sure you know, I earned mine before I entered military service, helping the poorer citizens of Altorra, where my family maintains our landhold. My daughters, of course, were raised mainly in my adopted home in the Lothian League, so I always felt it was important that they maintain contact with the Confederation to understand their heritage and the responsibilities that come with it. When they chose to attend the Sarna Martial Academy together, their father and I could not have been more proud of their decision to make a commitment to the land of their ancestors."
Another reporter soon broke in with a question. "Does this signal that you will be spending more of your time and attention here in the Confederation, as your family traditionally has, or will you be returning soon to the periphery?"
Always so damned welcoming, aren't you. "My ties and responsibilities to the Confederation remain strong. I would like to take this opportunity to say that I am beyond happy with the job my brother Angus has done as Lord McCarron in my stead at Castle McCarron on Altorra. He and his family will continue to maintain that role as, yes, I return to the all consuming responsibilities of governing an entire world in the name of Grand Mistress Logan. While I'm sure that my regent, Count Gunnar Logan, is doing a fine job holding down the fort in my absence, it would be irresponsible of me to leave my people on Lummatii without firm guidance."
A female reporter wearing entirely too much makeup and what looked like enough jewelry to equip a small noble family jumped in next. "Speaking of your regent, the fetching Count Gunnar, are there ever going to be plans for the two of you to wed, now that the nest is empty, so to speak?"
Freyja sneered. "Count Logan and I are quite happy in our relationship. We have managed to raise two amazing daughters without the cumbersome chains of marriage, and I see no need to change that arrangement now, so sorry, your society gossip pages will have to keep chewing on that one, I'm afraid."
A stern looking man interjected next with his question. "Assignments have been leaked recently, it seems both of your daughters will be serving with the Fourth McCarron's Armored Cavalry. Given your line of the family's tendency to distance yourself from the line that has run the MAC so ably for our state for generations, were any strings pulled to get these postings, perhaps as a sort of peace offering and reuniting of disparate branches of the family?"
"As I'm sure you know, my line of the McCarron family diverged from the one vested with control of the MAC long ago. Both sides of our family have done our own thing, and will continue to do so. I had no talks with my cousin Xavier, or anyone in the MAC or the CCAF regarding my daughters postings. I'm sure they will be welcomed into the unit, and I'm sure they will do our side of the family proud. Thank you all, that's it for today."
Freyja stepped down from the podium and followed a cordoned off path to her right, followed by her daughters. Crowds mixed with reporters and common citizens were held back by barriers, until they reached a waiting hoverlimo, and the three women stepped in and closed the door, as if sealing the outside world away.
"Not going to run off and get married now that the nest is empty, mother?" Azalea asked with a laugh.
Freyja shook her head. "God, you never know what those reporters are going to hit you with. You'd think they would have something better to do."
Hope interjected, "It's the society column, mom, they have nothing better to do. But hey, you handled them well. Nice to see you haven't lost your edge, living all soft there in the periphery, leaving us to deal with the big bad Capellan press." she winked.
Freyja leaned back and sighed, unbuttoning her suit jacket. "Are you girls sure this is what you want? You could have plum assignments in the Lothian military, you'd be closer to home, and far safer than running with the wild and crazy MAC."
Azalea frowned. "Mom, you talk about the MAC like it's before the Fourth Succession War and they're a bunch of barbarians getting into bar fights and all. The MAC of today is as prime an assignment as you can get. We'll be the cream of the crop. And besides, you're a fine one to lecture us about playing it safe. You practically ran away from home, got caught up in the slave trade, and fought real life pirates, and that was all before we came along. And come on, there's two of us, we can handle anything."
Freyja shook her head. "I know, it's just different when the shoe is on the other foot. I'm going to be worried about you two all the time, you know that."
Hope leaned forward and put a hand on her mother's knee. "We'll be fine, mom. And besides, we'll be so famous, you'll hear news stories about us, you can practically watch us from home."
"Follow our trail of ass kicking, you mean," Azalea quipped.
A week later, the two sisters floated in zero-G, staring out of the viewport at the tiny dot that was Sarna in the distance. They were moored at the jump point now, waiting to make the jump to their next assignment, their first real assignment.
"Who do you think will freak more, mom or dad?" Azalea asked as she hovered next to her twin sister. Her dark brown hair was a twisted mess, floating every which way, moving with the gentle motions of her neck.
"Definitely mom." Hope replied. She had her hair wrapped up and tied in a bun, with barely a loose strand escaping. "Dad is chill when it comes to this stuff. Mom, you'd think she'd be calmer after all she's been through, but she's definitely the worry wart."
"Just like you, sis." Azalea quipped as she poked Hope and sent her spinning slowly away. "You need to loosen up. We're on our own now, we made it, we graduated, we're free. No more rules and bullshit like that, we're mechwarriors, we get to go out, kick ass, and have a good time."
Hope steadied herself against a railing. "Zee, you do realize that we don't get to leave rules behind? If anything, we get more of them. Have you missed the last four years where we've be training to be part of a military unit? Military, as in discipline, rules, regulations?"
Azalea shook her head purposefully to send her hair flying in every direction. "God, Hope, you make it sound like we signed up for the DCMS or something. This is the thirty-second century, we're signed on with McCarron's freaking Armored Cavalry, we get to get blow stuff up, get drunk, and have sex in wild places. Let your hair down for once in our lives.
Just then, the jump alarm sounded. Hope pointed at her sister. "We're already living on the edge, we're not supposed to be up here during jump operations, we're supposed to be tucked away safe in our beds."
Azalea pushed off the deck and tumbled through the air effortlessly. "Oh come on, Hope. Neither of us gets TDS, and I didn't sneak any boys into my bed, and I'm pretty sure you didn't sneak any girls into yours, so it's class-A boring back there. At least here we get to watch the stars appear and disappear."
The warning klaxon sounded again, counting down 5...4...3...2..1...jump. Hyperspace jump was different for everyone. Some people loved it. Some people hated it. Some people were sick for days with it. For the McCarron sisters, it was somewhere in the middle. They had jumped so many times in their lives, traveling between systems, that it just sort of....was. It was as everyday ordinary as falling asleep.
Except this time. Azalea felt like she was being sucked inside out, a pressure building up inside her that desperately wanted to pop, like the seal on a jar. She hung motionless in the air, seemingly not even breathing for what registered like an eternity in her mind. And then in popped. The seal broke. The lid came off.
She tumbled unceremoniously to the deck, thankfully not landing on her head or anything vital. She heard her sister yelp out in pain an instant later. She used that sound to focus her, to draw her back to reality. In twenty-two years of life, she and her sister had rarely been apart, and for as much as they fought and teased the other, each knew they were linked to the other for life. She didn't know if it was something magical, if it was just a product of being raised together, or some mystery of twins, having shared the same womb and come into the world together, but they were connected on some level that neither understood, and they used it more than once in their lives.
"Hope, are you ok?" She cried out frantically. The lights on the dropship had all failed, the only light was that coming through the viewing port, a port which showed.....a planet? That couldn't be. They had just jumped, there was no way they were close enough that the view from the port would be like one orbiting a planet, yet it was.
"I hurt like hell, but I'm ok. What the hell happened. And what the hell is that out the window?"
Azalea tried to sit up. "I don't know, maybe we misjumped or something to a pirate point--" She was cut off mid sentence as the ship around them shook violently. The image out the viewport shifted, and they began to once more be thrown about. She felt her sisters hand grab hold of her arm.
"What's going on? If we misjumped, and that's a planet, then everything's gone wrong and we're going to crash. We won't survive. We should try to get to our mechs. Maybe inside them we could survive the crash."
Azalea pulled her sister in closer, and they gripped each other for dear life. "There's no way we'll make it to the mech bay. Or out of here any way at all. We either live through this or we don't. But I'm not splitting up from you. If we're going to die, then we're going out the way we came in, kicking and screaming, and together....."
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