Application Accepted

‘My name is Nova Higgs and I am part of the Space Force. I am applying for the position of ‘spy’ for the SIA, Space Intelligence Agency…’

No, no, no, that’s too straightforward. An introduction like this needs more...pizzazz. I’d never be given a chance with an opening like that. Let’s try again.

‘Graduating at the top of my class in the Space Force Academy, I, Nova Higgs, will be applying for the most coveted position the SIA has to offer, Undercover Agent. I may be young at eighteen rotations around the star, Eridanus, but I believe this will benefit the agency. I am small and unintimidating so I am less likely to be noticed, and I can hide in tiny places. My brown hair and brown eyes often render me less memorable than most which will allow me to easily blend into crowds.

‘I have been taught self defense starting at the tender age of three and my wide variety of skills allow me to think quickly and creatively. For example, my mother was a make up artist for film production and passed on her knowledge to me. I can use this to the agencies advantage by blending into different species on different planets.

Upon your request, I have prepared a full demonstration of my skills. I await a response with high hopes.’

I set down my tablet, rereading the requirements. Was the ending too much? Maybe I should change it from high hopes to optimism? I reached out to backspace the sentence when I changed my mind. No, I’ll send it like this. They don’t really care about the fluff. It’s the unusual skills they look at. I can only hope there aren’t any other applicants who can completely change their face using only make up and the available resources.

I flop across my bunk, staring up at the empty bed above me. My roommate, Nisha Collins, was out in the practice yard, running drills. Well, I say ‘yard’ but what I really mean is the large room set up to look like the surface of a planet. It has a forest, a desert, even a large lake to practice in. We are actually stationed in the Pleiades Space Station, orbiting my home star, Eridanus.

Nisha actually planned on staying with the Space Force rather then applying somewhere else, like me. Unlike me, she was tall and muscular. She knew her way around a gun better than most men and, better yet, could shoot it without falling over. She could issue commands and people followed them without question. She was meant to be a soldier. I, on the other hand, would have been dropped in the first week if a year of service hadn’t been mandatory.

Now, after a full year of being overshadowed, ignored, and taken advantage of, I had a choice. Sign a four year contract with the Space Force, apply to another branch, or go home to pursue other talents.

The last option was already off the table, I had no home to go back to. I never knew my father and my mother died a year before my service period began. My only option was shaping up to be applying to another branch of the military that better suit my qualifications.

My mentor, Even Thorizon, had suggested I apply for the Spy Program when an opening for graduating Space Force students came across his tablet. They rarely pick anyone right out of mandatory service, but he thought I might stand a chance.

The door to our dorm creaked open and I picked my head up in time to see Nisha’s backside bump the door out of the way as she backed into the room.

“Whatcha got?” I asked her, sitting up and tossing my tablet on the bedside table.

“Just...my new...bag of weapons,” she grunted as she heaved a duffle bag that must have weighed at least two hundred kilograms into the room.

“Why do you need so many?” I asked, peering over her should as she unzipped the bag.

“I start my second year of training next week and my new Sergeant wants us to familiarize ourselves with the weapons we will be training with over the next few years,” she said, pulling out one gun after another. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a loose pony tail on top of her head, having no doubt been in the required bun just moments ago. I watched it whip back and forth as she carefully placed each gun on the desk opposite me.

“Have you sent in your application for the spy job yet?” Nisha asked while she pulled out her last weapon, a short metal staff that twisted apart in the middle. Both sides were tethered together with an eight inch chain.

“No. Will you read over it for me? I can’t seem to get it right,” I said, grabbing my tablet again and holding it out to her. She took it and plopped down on the bed next to me. She read through it quickly, tapping on the keyboard to add words and fix mistakes.

“Here, try this,” she said, smiling as she handed it back to me. I read it over and sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Nisha! This is ten times better than what I wrote. You’re so much better at this than I am,” I said, bumping her shoulder with mine as I hit send on the application.

“I’m not better at everything. I could never make myself look the way you dolled me up for the dance. I never had so many boys goggle at me like that before,” she giggled. I rolled my eyes.

“Lets get dinner. This is our last week together before we have to go our separate ways and I don’t mean to spend them worrying about it.” Nisha slapped the bed as she stood up and I followed her out the door.

I gazed out the windows of the Pleiades Space Station as we walked down the corridor. I never got tired of looking at the stars glittering in the dark space beyond. It was so dark you could even see neighboring galaxy clusters in the distance.

“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Nisha called, a full hallway ahead. I tore my eyes away from the window and ran to catch up with her.

Five minutes later we were seated at a long table with the other first years and a plate of tonight’s gruel. Most nights I ate it too fast to taste anything just so I could force it down. Once a month we would have a party called a ‘pizza party.’ It came from the home planet of one of the stations chef’s. Pizza came in all shapes and sizes with every kind of topping you could imagine. Some I didn’t recognize, others I did. Anyway, those were the best nights because it was the only food that tasted real in a military space station. I didn’t know how Nisha could stand another four years of it.

“How long will I have to wait until I hear back, do you think?” I ask her through a mouthful of something gray and unrecognizable. Nisha chewed and swallowed the gunk before replying.

“I think it all depends on where you apply. Jobs like kitchen crew and cleaners tend to reply quickly. Surveillance and hackers require more skill and more requirements so they actually check through their applications and pick and choose who to interview. Spies, well, spy jobs don’t come up very often. It usually means the last one retired or died, and not many retire.”

“Now you tell me,” I mutter, pushing around green mush that may have once been peas.

“I wouldn’t worry, Nova. It will take a week, maybe two before they choose and I’m sure you can bow out if it doesn’t sound like a good fit during the interview. But if you ask me, if anyone here has the ability to be a spy, it’s you,” she said with confidence. I did not feel her same level of assurance and the seeds of dread were already planted in my chest.

I went to bed that night feeling like I had made a terrible mistake. I pretended to be fine for Nisha, who was excited to continue her service and I didn’t want to bring her down. I lay awake, listening to the low hum of the space station. There were no windows in the barrack rooms so I couldn’t even watch the stars and planets streak past. I brooded in the silence for a long time before sleep finally took me.

My eyes flew open to the buzzing of my alarm. I rubbed them groggily and dragged myself out of bed. Nisha had already gone down to breakfast. I swear she only ever slept a couple hours and was perfect the next day. I needed my straight eight hours, nine if I could manage it.

I dragged a clean uniform from the closet, barely able to keep my eye open for the retinal scan, and walked into our shared bathroom. I turned on the shower and twisted the heat to max before climbing in and letting the water hit my neck and back, melting away the stress of last night. After rinsing off, I grabbed a towel and jumped out. As I raked a comb through my long hair, I told myself I was gonna cut it once I left this place. Here, my only two options were long enough for a bun, or buzzed short like the guys. I didn’t want it quite that short so I opted to keep it long. It was a hassle take care of.

Once dressed, I took my time walking to the mess hall for breakfast. That’s when things got weird. The first years dragged their feet and yawned, paying no mind like normal, but many of the upper ranks gave me a tight nod. I nodded back as was policy, but on the inside, my confusion was palpable. Usually higher ranks paid me even less attention than other first years. What was it about today that was different?

As I passed through the open doorway into the hall, Even sidled up to me. “Hey, congrats and good luck! Keep me posted!” He winked a large cat like eye and scurried away before I could ask what the hell he was talking about.

Even was a Miw. His species came from an entirely different solar system on the other side of the galaxy. All of them were tall and spouted striking patterns on the fur covering their bodies. Their faces were reminiscent of cats, with sharp teeth and ears that stuck up from the top of their heads.

I noticed Nisha waving at me and gesturing to a seat she had saved. I made my way over and she smiled broadly.

“What are you so happy about?” I asked.

“You!” she squealed and then quieted. “I’m not supposed to know yet, but Even told me. Congrats, Nova!”

“Okay, what’s going on? Everyone is congratulating me, but I don’t know why,” I said rather grumpily.

“Didn’t you check your tablet this morning?” Nisha asked, her smile faltering. I shook my head.

“You got the job!” she said, flinging her arms out. My jaw dropped and I stared at her.

“You mean they want to interview me?” I asked timidly.

“No, I mean you are hired, you start the beginning of next week,” she beamed and I felt my stomach drop. No, it can’t be. They were supposed to deliberate over applicants first, choose people to interview, and then hire. I thought I still had time. Suddenly I didn’t feel very hungry anymore.

“Are you feeling okay?” Nisha asked, “You look pale.”

Without answering, I rushedfrom the hall and back to our room, burstingthrough the door and flinging it shut behind me. I swiped the tablet from my bedside table and sat heavily on my bed. Three new notifications. One, the days schedule, it was sent every day and it rarely changed. Two, a picture of Nisha with her favorite new gun, and third, one new message.

I brought up the message in a hurry. Attached to my original application was a download with the famous ringed planet insignia and the letters SIA.

“Will you calm down, Nova? It will be fine,” Nisha said from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. It was the morning of meeting with my new employers and I was panicking. I paced our empty dorm room from end to end. It annoyed Nisha when I did it, but I didn’t care. I had a right to be nervous.

“What if they see me and decide I was wrong for the job and send me back? I can’t survive here for another four years.”

“Nova...”

“I don’t have any skills that would get me a job with the Planet Federation. I-”

“Nova, enough.”

I stopped pacing and looked at Nisha. She was standing at the bathroom door with her hands on her hips, frowning. Her tight bun made her features sharper than normal.

“The SIA don’t make mistakes. For them to hire you outright like that, they must know you better than you know yourself. They aren’t going to change their minds.”

I sighed and sat on the bed, my head in my hands. I knew she was right, but the doubts wouldn’t stop popping up in my mind. Nisha came over and sat next to me. She pulled my hands from my face and gently helped pin up my hair. When she was done she rested her hands on my shoulders and shook them slightly.

“You are more skilled than you know, Nova. Some smart guy once said, ‘If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, than it live its whole life believing it is stupid.”

“He didn’t actually say that, you know,” I couldn’t help but correct her. Nisha smiled.

“See? You know more than you think. Now let’s go, you don’t want to be late on your first day.”

I nodded and took a deep breath as I stood. Nisha walked with me to the elevator, but that’s as far as she was able to go. I was heading to the debriefing floor of the space station and she was to meet with her new squad at the bridge.

“Good luck,” she said before skipping off. Solemnly I stepped into the elevator and hit the corresponding floor button. I shot up four floors at mach speed before slowing to a stop at the fifth. I let go of the railing, my knuckles white. I had never liked elevators much.

Much too soon I was outside the designated door. I raised a fist and knocked hesitantly. Now would be the time to turn and run, but a buzz sounded and the door slid open. It was too late now.

I stepped into the brightly lit room, blinking at the severe looking people surrounding the single desk in the room. There were two chairs at the desk but no one sat.

“Nova Higgs?” One of the men asked. He wore a black suit with gold bars down the arms and the Space Force Insignia was pinned to his chest. I gasped. The man before me was Kole Blac, Chief Master Sergeant of the Space Force. There was no rank higher, except maybe President of the Galaxy.

I nodded dumbly, then caught myself and said, “Yes, sir, reporting.”

“This is the child?” another man asked. He was sharply dressed as well, but I didn’t know him, so I felt it was worth it to scowl at him. I was well passed childhood.

“Yes, she just affirmed that, didn’t she?” Chief Master Sergeant Blac said. I swallowed a smirk.

“She’s a bit young,” the same man said.

“She has passed her first mandatory year in service and was the only applicant that fit your needs. She comes highly recommended,” Blac said, frowning slightly. I glanced at him sharply, highly recommended?

The other man sighed and nodded, “I am Dyson Spear. Director of SIA.” He stuck out his hand. I shook it once, like I had been taught. Hopefully it wasn’t too sweaty, I had just realized I had been glaring at my new boss.

“Please, take a seat,” Spear said, gesturing at a chair. I really didn’t want to sit when everyone else was standing, but what choice did I have? I sat in the hard chair, perching on the edge with my back straight. Blac moved to the side and Spear took the seat behind the desk. He clasped his hands together and stared down at me without blinking.

“Do you know why you are here, child?” he asked finally.

“I would assume to start my new job, sir,” I said, careful to keep my face and voice neutral.

“Of course she doesn’t know, Dyson, quit wasting time,” the third man said. He had been quiet up to this point and I was surprised at how soft his voice was compared to the others.

Spear shot the man an annoyed look, but jumped to the point. “As you know, we have been waging war against the Lutharian’s. Two weeks ago, we lost contact with the man who was our previous spy. That leaves us in a precarious position. The war is at a tipping point and if we lose, the Lutharian’s will enslave us and kill the rest. It was because of our spies we are winning this war and we lost our most important one.”

A silence stretched out for several moments and I couldn’t help but break it. Patience wasn’t one of my strong suits. “What will my role be in this war, sir?”

Spear looked at my with his creepy unblinking eyes for a long time before answering.

“We need you, Nova, to infiltrate the Lutharian’s ranks.”

I stared at the man, disbelief plastered all over my face.

“Are you serious?” I blurted out and hurriedly added, “Sir?”

“Completely.”

“Nova, do you know much about the Lutharian’s?” Blac asked. I looked at him and shrugged.

“Not much. Only what they taught us in basics,” I said.

“Then you know they are a short, lean race with dark skin and dark hair. We will have to cut yours short to match their fashion and you will have to use some of that make up magic you have to make your eyes look bigger and angle your face more. Do you think you can do that?” Blac asked.

“Yes, sir, I can do that. When do I leave?” I asked, looking between the two men. Spear checked his watch.

“In one hour.”

My life moved in a short, rapid sequence of events from that moment on. I had already packed, but I was only allowed to bring my make up. Lutharian clothes and space suit would be issued to me later. Guy number three in the debriefing room had introduced himself as Nuet and his job was to escort me and relay my mission once we were packed into the small two person ship.

I strapped myself in, crossing both seat belts across the front of my chest and one across my lap. Next I tugged on the helmet to my co-pilots uniform. It slipped on easily over my freshly cut hair. It now resembled the Lutharian’s, short in the back and sloping gently to the front. I actually liked it. The Lutharian’s may be our enemies, but at least they had good style.

I flipped the switch on the side of my helmet, turning on the comms. Nuet did the same and I heard his voice in my ear.

“You ready for this, Nova?” he asked, looking at me.

“Two hours ago I didn’t believe this was real. How could anyone be ready for something like this?”

“Just wait til you hear the rest,” he said. I groaned. There is a saying that goes ‘things are never as bad as they seem’ but I was sure this was more like ‘things are always worse than they seem.’

As we shot from the space station and Nuet started up the warp drive, I settled in to listen to my mission debriefing. I wasn’t allowed to write any of it down or record any of the conversation. I had four hours to memorize it all.

“We will be stopping at the Space Force Embassy where Lutharian ambassadors will be staying for peace talks. Don’t get excited, nothing ever comes of them. It’s a front to look as if progress is being made. You will be posing as one of the prisoners of war, a female named Warshet from House Muon.”

“What if they don’t accept me?”

“They will. We have been exchanging prisoners for years and this time won’t be any different. It is expected you will be brought back to the Muon space station, where you will gather any and all information you can. The Muons are a large family who help fund this war and many members rank high in their army.

“Every week you will be approached by someone and will be given a small recording device. You will relay all your information on this. Then you will swallow it.”

“Swallow it?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes, they rid their...waste out a hatch and into space. Once the device reaches the vacuum, it is programmed to find its way back to us.”

“Ew,” I said, making a disgusted face at Nuet. He smiled grimly.

“It’s worked so far, no reason to change the system, right?”

“I guess,” I said, unconvinced. My helmet pinged and information began to pop up on my screen. I read as fast as possible.

“How am I going to remember all this?” I asked, dread pooling in my stomach. The customs of these aliens were so different from our own, there was no way I would pass as one of them.

“You aren’t,” Nuet said simply. “But you will do what you can. What’s your name?”

“Warshet of House Muon,” I said slowly, feeling out the unfamiliar words.

“Good. Now put this in your mouth.”

He handed me a small device shaped like a tooth. It was flexible and molded perfectly to my own tooth.

“This will allow you to translate their language and help you speak it. It isn’t perfect and you will have to practice, but it’s better than nothing.”

I nodded as he flipped off the warp drive, bringing the ship back to real time. I felt nauseous and it had nothing to do with the time change.

“We are here. A woman named Maggy will meet with you and help you get into costume. We await your first recording,” Nuet popped open the ship hatch and I unlatched myself and jumped out apprehensively, waving goodbye.

Recording #1: I have successfully infiltrated the High Order Space Station of House Muon. Some look at me weirdly but most put my odd behavior down to being a prisoner of war for too long. One Lutharian woman took pity on me and is helping me reassimilate. Her birth status seems to be high.

This last week has been about gaining the trust of the Lutharian’s I interact with on a daily a basis. Most agree I will soon be ready for a job. Transcriber is a lowly title here and may be just what we need. Roric may be able to use her status to get me in.

Recording #2: I have been secured the job as a Transcriber. I have been spending my time learning to type in Lutharese as fast as I can. They have tablets similar to what we have which has helped. The language is becoming more natural by the hour.

Roric has started to invite me out with her friends and they often gossip about the news their families bring home. With luck, they will soon be comfortable enough to talk in front of me.

Recording #3: I was nearly exposed. Unbeknownst to me, I caught the eye of a Lutharian boy. As per custom, he proclaimed me his to court by touching foreheads and he rubbed off my make up. Lutharian’s don’t wear make up, it’s not a thing, and he was horrified he had peeled my skin off. I told him it was a special medical treatment to hide the hideous scars I acquired while a prisoner. I don’t think I will be seeing him around anymore, but I worry about the repercussions.

On the flip side, I get to attend my first high rank meeting as a Transcriber in a few days. It is to be between the captains of warships discussing battle plans.

Recording #4: They are planning an ambush. By the time this reaches you, it might be too late, but on the off chance it’s not, they plan to send Kamikaze pilots towards a returning fleet of Planet Federation Trade Barges. Once the Space Force sends fighter ships out to protect the barges the real attack with come from behind.

I was right to be worried about the boy. He told someone and a trial was to be set, but attacks have been worse and Lutharian refugees are pouring in from downed space stations and trade ships, which means their attention was directed away from me and I can move around the station more freely again.

Recording #5: Lutharian’s are dying. The most recent water supply has been poisoned. Roric’s father, the High Master Muon’s second son, Dem, was one of the first to die. All leads point to an accident of cross contamination, but the family is upset and pointing fingers at the Space Force. Be wary of what you eat and drink, I believe they are planning revenge.

The refugees whisper about a super human squadron attacking strictly civilian space shuttles. Each story differs but they all have a common theme, a Space Force team led by a woman sharpshooter in a black uniform. She never misses a shot they say and many have lost friends and family to her.

Nisha if you are out there, I hope its not you.

Recording #6: In approximately twelve Eridanus days from the time you get this, House Muon will be sending out a new technology to test on the Space Force Embassy. From what I can gather, they are satellites that target organic matter. They are equipped with lasers made of neutrinos. Usually they are harmless, but they have acquired the technology to harness them and tweak their charges. Now they pass through non-organic matter but hit organic matter, causing it to explode.

They hope killing everyone in the Embassy will make you think twice. I beg of you, evacuate the Embassy and stand down on this. You can’t go against a weapon like this.

Nisha, the refugees are petitioning to make your squad a target of this weapon. Please don’t do anything stupid, don’t get yourself killed in this pointless war.

Recording #7: Roric is dead. An unexpected attack by the Space Force left many of the Muon’s injured and the weapon neutralized. I was in the bottom most holds listening to the refugees when the attack began or else I may be dead as well. From what I can gather, Hūnta Graa, or Death Squad, the Lutharian name for Nisha’s team, managed to pass by the checkpoints by hiding their ship underneath the hull of a trading barge bringing supplies and attacked during the night. Roric was on deck and lead the charge against Nisha, but she was no fighter. Stupid girl.

(Long Pause)

The space shuttle is in chaos. No one knows if the attackers are still here. Most of us are just trying to survive now. No where is safe.

Recording #8: Hūnta Graa has taken over the space station. Roric’s grandfather has been thrown in his own jail cells along with the other living members of the House. I’m hidden among the refugees and the only person who may know me is Nisha, but not even she was privy to the fact I was here and she may not recognize me. Anyone who oversteps is killed immediately. Word must have gotten out of your success as the steady stream of information has dried up and no new news has reached me.

Recording #9: By the time you get this recording, you will probably have realized I lied. The weapon was never neutralized and Hūnta Graa is dead. Living among the Lutharian’s has shown me they are no less than humans, nor are they more cruel. You started this war, not them, and allowed propaganda to twist the facts and make it seem like Planet Federation were the victims and you had to come to their aid. The Lutharian’s never wanted war, but you asked for it and now you have it. Goodbye, Kole Blac and Dyson Spear. Go rot in hell.

The last recording crackled into silence. Blac looked at Spear, his face drained of all color.

“How’d she find out?”

“Does it matter?! She just said the weapon-”

“Sirs, we have a problem. There seems to be a swarm of Lutharian satellites heading our way,” the ships computer interrupted. Spear slammed a button on the console and the wall turned translucent.

Hundreds, no thousands, of small satellites swarmed from the darkness. Pulses of bright purple light glowing in the middle of each one. Blac and Spear watched them swarm over the entire Space Force fleet, helpless to do anything as the fighter ships struggled to take them out. Once in place, the satellites collectively powered on, their insides glowing brighter and brighter until thousands of laser beams enveloped the fleet.

“Fuck,” Blac said, and his body erupted in a fountain of blood.