Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Words were scarce in the transport. Sierra’s mind was awash with any number of things; her promise to Elaine, Elaine’s insecurities, Elaine’s tears…all sorts of different things, truly. Next to her Chloe shuffled in her seat uneasily, with the marble captain quietly sitting across from them. Morgan had taken her usual spot in the cockpit.

For a good fifteen minutes of time in this particular tin can, Sierra had been cursing herself out. Of course this could only end badly. Of course Elaine was right, of course she should have just stayed by her side, to watch the end together! After all, Sierra was her mai…

But she wasn’t, was she? There had to be a reason Elaine hadn’t put up more of a fight. Plenty of pragmatic reasons, but she didn’t often take that approach when it came to Sierra. No, the reason, the more she thought, was not some cold write off, let the girl who wanted to die do so, not at all. In essence, it came down to what Elaine already knew.

That Sierra was not her maid. No, — and it set the girl’s emotions into a spiral all over again — Sierra was something quite different. A lifelong…lover. And a life absolutely had to be longer than a couple of weeks. Sierra would not fail as Elaine’s lover. She couldn’t bear to think…

She almost had to laugh. It was that cliche you saw in every war film. “I’ve got a gal back home, waitin’ there for me.” Of course, and the girl shivered, how often were those words uttered shortly before the character’s death?

No, no…control yourself, don’t freak yourself out before you’ve even left the atmosphere…or after, for that matter.

“Hey.” It was the captain’s voice; Sierra looked up. “You’re as white as a sheet, and that’s coming from me.”

“I must confess to having some things on my mind, ma’am.”

“A maid’s sarcasm is a rare treat. We all want to protect what’s below us.” She momentarily looked at Chloe, who quickly nodded. “And I’m gonna do my damnedest to bring you two, yes, BOTH of you, Maid Chloe! home alive and safe. To soothe my own pride, of course.” Metzger looked pensive for a moment. “Command’s plan is going to sound mad, coming from the wrong set of lips. So you won’t hear it from me. But rest assured that it is a collaborative effort between the finest minds of Earth as well as the HCC! Or at least the closest thing you can get to that in any government.” She shook her head. “But anyway. You’ll be treated to the best food the geofront has to offer, which is only slightly worse than a boiled shoe. And we’ll be testing you two in the air, of course. The finest training cobbled together with the things and ideas that the Feds have carelessly let slip from their hands.”

After a moment, she added, “the finest completely untested space fleet in the multiverse. What? Don’t look so worried. Any questions?”

“Do you have faith in the plan, miss?” A surprisingly bold one from Chloe’s direction.

“People have certainly put their faith in sillier things!” the captain barked. “I think the two key players of our contingency are a fine thing to put my faith in.” She gave the two of them a meaningful look. 

“I’m humbled by your words, ma’am,” Sierra said, bowing her head just slightly.

“M-m…too,” Chloe added. “Um…I…” her face was burning red. Sierra wondered when it would start glowing.

“Sierra,” the captain drawled.

“Yes ma’am!”

“What did you do with your hair? It looks magnificent.”

Sierra worried the elevator ride would take even longer than their little flight north. For long, claustrophobic moments, it was the four of them in the tiny box, surrounded by concrete on all sides. A hole had opened in the sea, and the transport had settled inside it.

Sierra already missed the transport.

Her eyes blanched, however, at the sudden onset of bright, chemical light piercing the reinforced glass wall. Suddenly they were crawling down into a huge dome which had a whole damn city in the middle.

Well, it had some important looking buildings, anyway. Sierra distantly saw their shuttle being lowered on a platform among a sea of them, and as they continued to descend, she could see tiny people going about their duties, a good number of maids among them. Morgan was back with the shuttle, while the two maids and the captain had gone on ahead.

“A lot of concrete, lead, and some happy thoughts does wonders in hiding this place from the men upstairs,” Metzger recalled jubilantly. “The Baltic Geofront is a lovely facility that you never would’ve heard about!” She turned towards the rest of them with a grave expression. “Because, after all, loose lips sink ships.”

The rapidly descending elevator was starting to slow, settling into a large chamber dyed a pale green by the many little surrogate suns. A road opened before it, with humvees and whatever else plodding along. As they’d traveled down, Sierra had seen an entire monorail network superimposed onto the base.

These women were taking nothing in half measures.

Eventually, the elevator came to a stop, and doors slid open. Metzger led them down what was like a city street, bathed in the chemical light.

“We’re meeting with command right away,” the captain said, as they marched onward.

Sierra had seen a lot in her time as a smuggler. She’d seen the internal politics of well-to-do families. She’d seen crime bosses rise, and also fall. She’d seen C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. Well, maybe not the last one. But she’d seen a lot.

But receiving orders from an actual military’s top brass, in an actual war room? That was pretty new. It was a circular space, with a table-projector in the center, showing a large and glowy model of the planet, just like something out of a movie. The spherical model was covered in splotches of blue and red.

“The blue shows space under the control of the HCC,” said the woman giving the briefing. She had markings on her skin like that of a poison dart frog. She wore a dark blue uniform, with colored bars on each shoulder. Her name tag read ‘Morozova’. “While the red shows the astral territory of the 25 remaining Federation fleets and that of the Talerian Royal Navy.” Sierra was none too happy to see the region she’d been calling home under an angry red glow, though it was surrounded on most sides by a partial ring of blue.

“Maids Chloe and Sierra,” the frog-patterned woman continued, “your target will be the Talerian flagship which was separated from many of its support craft when the split happened. While a diversionary force from the Three Stars Republic handles its point defense and disrupts their IFF with scrambler drones, first Chloe, and then Sierra, will land aboard the vessel.” The ship was highlighted on the model, a red dot located just barely in blue territory, labeled ‘TRNS Coronam Princeps’.

“Um, pardon?” Sierra asked.

“I was getting to it, don’t worry. We’re counting on Chloe slipping by in the ship she came down here in while they’re preoccupied. It’s a dangerous plan, I admit. Maid Chloe?”

“I… will undertake it, ma’am.”

“Fantastic. Chloe will be accompanied by Ms. deGaine, who will act as a redundant pilot. Chloe, no, Ms. Harlow, am I correct that your vessel can be piloted in the same manner as the suborbital vessels Ms. deGaine is most familiar with?”

“Talerian craft have a number of different control configurations, ma’am.”

“Brilliant,” the woman briefing them said. “The next part of the plan is that Sierra, or Ms. Stinson, rather, if she should choose to accept this task, will land aboard a pacified vessel as the crew undergo the changes wrought by Ms. Harlow’s arrival.” Chloe shuddered at those words.

“I will accept this task, ma’am,” Sierra said. “But is there not more I could do?”

“We will update you as the situation demands, Ms. Stinson. Now, you may be wondering some things. Namely, in what world is the HCC permitting us to spread our infection as a weapon of war? Through an agreement made by the president, we may lay claim to Talerian, and only Talerian, vessels as we wish. After all… through some stroke of good fortune,” she said with a grin, “we’ve acquired their seal.”

Sierra looked at her feet. That stupid hunk of metal that had started all this… well, it wasn’t all bad, was it? She’d met Elaine because of it. She had met Amelie, Morgan, as well as Natalie Luxe and Sophie Capet. It really was wild to think… that she hadn’t known them all that long.

But wait, there was a question. Sierra quietly cleared her throat. Officer Morozova regarded her with a nod.

“You have something to say?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sierra began. “How can we guarantee the passivity of the Talerian crew, even if they all turn to maids?”

“An excellent question. Primarily, they will be affected by Maid Chloe’s particular strain. Her change wasn’t a normal one, after all. It was given via a serum, overpowering what would have occurred naturally. In short, it’s the serum that won our ancestors the war.” She looked at the two of them. “Any more questions?”

“Is Chloe really willing to do such a thing to her former comrades?” Sierra wondered aloud. Chloe shuffled uneasily in place.

“Chloe?”

“I-I…” she trailed off, remaining silent for several moments. “N-no. How can I be? I… I don’t know! I s-said I would… but…”

The one giving the briefing wore a stern look. “Maid Chloe, you will comply.”

“I… w-will…” she mouthed back the rest of the phrase, but made no further sound. Sierra gave her an apologetic look. With teeth grit, as if it were taking every bit of her willpower, Chloe shook her head.

“Awfully stubborn, aren’t you…?” Morozova said. Chloe hung her head in shame. What could Sierra say in this situation, if she could even bring herself to speak out of turn? “Perhaps I must introduce you to a cruel fact of what it means to be a maid, Ms. Harlow.”

“Officer, please don’t!” Sierra pleaded. Part of her had to wonder why, but another part of her chalked it up to common decency. There was no need to stick up for this girl, Sierra knew. In fact, now was the second best time to mention Chloe’s assault. Maybe Sierra had absorbed some of the little prejudices of those around her; was she simply forgiving Chloe because she was a maid? Or was there more to it?

The frog woman turned aside. “I forget you are not soldiers,” she said, mostly to herself. “Yes, laws exist for a reason…” An awkward silence fell over the room. The natural impulses holding Sierra’s tongue were weak enough at this point that she could speak out of turn if she willed it, like she already had. She just didn’t know what to say. Until she thought of something.

“Officer…” she began, “what would happen if I landed first in her stead?”

“What is Chloe’s opinion on such a maneuver?” Morozova asked.

“You wouldn’t,” Chloe said, looking straight at the floor, “unless you were hailed and welcomed aboard. It would be so much harder for you to spoof the landing interface on your own.”

“What if I had their seal on board?” Sierra wondered aloud.

“They might be unwilling to risk it being jettisoned out into space,” Chloe said, voice still shaky. “But they wouldn’t let you land.”

“Ultimately we believe it to be far too risky to allow Sierra to board first,” the officer said. Chloe looked deep in thought. “Do you have any other insights? You can serve us with information, if not action.”

“I… believe I do, ma’am…” Chloe said, as she seemed to gather herself. “I believe Talerian ships will only fire on the HCC if a Federation victory seems inevitable. A state of war should not yet exist between the Empire and the Coalition. Is that why the Coalition wants Earth specifically to deal with the Talerian flagship? The Empire is wary of any state of war with Federation factions. If anything, they want closer ties to the Federation once this is settled. On the other hand, they consider this Earth to have already committed acts of war towards them.”

“And it is since they see us as a party at war with them that we have such leeway against them.The HCC’s help however is conditional on us not “infecting” any Federation ships. Madame President, for her part… would like us to deliver their seal to them. Now why would she want that?”

“So the Empire doesn’t fire at their own ship? Though they may still try to… purify it…” Chloe said, shivering slightly.

“Purify?”

“Cleanse in holy fire, of course. Annihilation…”

“The dirty work they’re hoping for the Federation to perform,” the officer said. “Perhaps we can’t hope for it to protect the ship…” She shrugged. “The plan would be to get to a blue zone if it’s not already in one anyway.” Then she clasped her hands together. “Anyway! With the information we’ve learned here today, I must consult with my peers for further planning.” She made no mention of Chloe’s reluctance to play her part. Sierra could only wonder what the backup plans were. “You two are dismissed for now.”

Metzger led them deeper into the massive complex. Their trip led them onto the monorail, a crowded car of any number of people going about their business. Sierra watched as salutes were exchanged, before the captain and her comrades descended into small talk. Sierra drew a good few looks — goddess, was she ever tired of being famous.

She just had to tell herself this was the last bout of heroism. She’d fight for her friends and lover’s continued existence, and then she’d fade into the background. Into Elaine’s waiting arms, into the life she was desperately wanting. She… both of them… needed only to survive.

Sierra’s own actions could be rather counterproductive to that aim, couldn’t they? And now she was insistent on getting involved in a space battle…

Sierra’s breath caught in her throat. Just what was she doing? What difference could she really make? Then again, she was technically here on someone else’s orders. 

That was right, she’d made a pledge to the President herself. That she would fight for them if necessary. She’d been in a rather emotional state, if she recalled. And now… here she was. Could she back out of it? But then… what would people say about her? Should she care? It was hard to do worse than “coat rack maid.” 

Still, how very… un maid-like to go back on her pledge. Perhaps she’d never live down the shame she’d levy upon herself. Unfit for service. Unfit for service! Blah-de-blah-de-blah… Sierra caught herself before she could mutter the phrase aloud. Chloe might just die if she did.

So what if she did get out of it? She’d go home to Elaine, and… then what? Regrets as the needles above opened rained death upon them? She’d seen the map. A red zone over the Rhineland. The Benelux, too. And her last thoughts as the annihilation happened would be that… maybe in the end… she could’ve done something…

Sierra’s thoughts were cut off as the monorail came to a silent halt. “Onward, girls!” Metzger said, “this is our stop. Hmm… yes, it was… Hangar 3, I believe…” Sierra and Chloe followed behind as she led them back out into the great concrete dome. In the far distance she saw other platforms raising and lowering, often with a craft of some kind atop them, and if not that, stockpiles of supplies. They seemed to be near the edge of the dome, now. The officer led them into an elevator.

It led to a catwalk overlooking what must have been the hangar she was talking about. It was an utterly massive room full of things that belonged in a hangar. There were circular platforms embedded in the floor, and on each one, a spacecraft.

“See anything you recognize, Sierra? Chloe?” Metzger asked.

“I do, ma’am.” Sierra did. “My ship.” It was right there among all the others. It seemed to have been given a good clean, or at least the exterior had been. Chloe pointed to hers, as well, a slightly smaller personal craft in Talerian red.

“Both fascinating examples of interstellar technology,” the captain said with an approving nod. “We’ve studied them the best we can without disturbing their internals. Sierra!”

“Yes ma’am?”

“I’m afraid yours had some damaged components. Will it still fly?”

Sierra nodded. “It will, ma’am. The D-drive and hyperdrive were damaged, but flight within the system should not be inhibited.” It was a complicated feeling, seeing her ship again. Her home for so long. Her lifeline. The ships around it looked rudimentary, just modern enough to not need to take off in stages. Most of their build looked devoted simply to getting the craft out of the atmosphere, including the fixed wings and the powerful-looking thrusters.

“Chloe’s ship on the other hand was like nothing we’ve seen before. The cockpit is incredible. It is, however, not meant for combat, am I correct?”

“You are,” Chloe said. It looked unlike anything else in the hangar, fast and light, with the twin propulsion rings typical of smaller Talerian craft.

“It’s a good thing we only need it to land aboard their flagship!” Metzger said. Chloe and Sierra looked at each other.

“Er…”

“Yes, Sierra?”

“Ma’am… Chloe never agreed to land on the ship.”

“Hmm.” The captain said nothing for a moment, as she looked straight ahead, over the hangar. A hand came to rest on her chin. “Well! It’s a good thing Ms. deGaine is with us! Chloe merely needs to be on the ship. I’m sure she’ll at least be willing to do that.” She looked intently at the maid in question.

“V-very well, ma’am,” she said.

“Right!” Metzger said, turning onward. “Now, are you two hungry?”

The mess hall was more or less what Sierra had come to expect from what Customs and Hospitality had provided. There were, of course, the long tables, a row of vending machines along one wall, and the mysterious windows she could only imagine were attached to the adjacent kitchen.

The captain regarded her soup with poorly disguised disgust. “Ahh, they don’t call it the mess hall for nothing! Revolting, isn’t it?”

Sierra shook her head. “The food seems fine, ma’am.”

“Well, just you wait! You didn’t hear it from me, but word on the wind is that the geofront will get a Wonderkebab next year. Thrilling, no?”

It was finally something Sierra could let herself giggle at. “Ms. Elaine might be less than thrilled, ma’am.”

Metzger grinned as she put a finger to Sierra’s mouth. “Ms. Elaine doesn’t need to know, does she?”

“I will treat it as classified information, ma’am!”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, Maid Chloe! I understand you have hang ups with your given task.” Chloe looked up anxiously from her own bowl. “I should like to hear about them!” the captain said.

“It will doom my comrades to never be able to return to their home, ma’am…” Chloe explained. “Should that not be self-evident?”

“I follow, don’t worry. But you do realize they may be safer this way than the alternative? I do understand the… Coronam Princeps, it is called, became rather isolated from its screens in the formation of battle lines.”

“Oh…” Chloe murmured.

“Not only will the ship be preserved from the ire of the surrounding HCC ships once it is neutralized, our instructions for the crew aboard will be to wave the white flag. Your actions will keep your comrades alive, Maid Chloe!” The captain considered for a moment. “However, I understand the briefing was inconclusive. They may draw up new plans.”

“I see…” Chloe said. Sierra did find herself holding some sympathy. It was, she had to admit, a tough situation Chloe had found herself in. For as much as Sierra was frustrated with her own actions, Chloe had drawn the ire of the entire planet. Part of Sierra realized she was lucky to be given the chance to serve, to redeem herself… and she had to imagine maid thoughts like these were going through Chloe’s mind as well.

And with that, Sierra believed that she’d figured out what Chloe’s other, unspoken, hang up was. She was woefully unprepared, Sierra knew, for how The Words would tear through that reluctance like tissue paper.

Sierra frowned. The captain did have a point; the soup didn’t really taste like anything.

The captain showed them to their rooms. It was a rather spartan affair, but nothing Sierra wasn’t used to. Instead of a starlit city, her room was overlooking the rest of the pale green-bathed geofront. As was the usual, these days, Sierra wasn’t alone in her room.

“Good evening, Ms. Sierra!” her assigned companion for the night said. She sat, legs crossed, on a large chair in the corner of the room. “I’m Maid Dalia! I am assigned to this room with you, is that acceptable?”

“Of course,” Sierra confirmed. “Have you been down here long?”

Dalia nodded. “I work at the west medbay!” That made sense enough, Sierra figured. “I shan’t bother you too much,” Dalia continued. “You may pretend like I am not even here.” She had pulled back brown hair, but what Sierra primarily noticed was the bushy eyebrows that made her face very expressive.

“Do you live here as well, Ms. Dalia?” Sierra asked.

“I do! But don’t worry, they do let us see the sun every so often.” The maid laughed a little at her own statement.

“I should hope so, Ms. Dalia!” Sierra said, giggling with her.

“I’ll let you get some sleep now,” Dalia said. “I understand that you have a big day tomorrow, and it starts early.” Sierra couldn’t argue with that. She stepped into the attached bathroom, making ready for bed. She was sorry to have to undo Elaine’s styling, she realized, as she looked into the mirror.

Elaine… she really hoped she’d see her again. She had to. There had to be a light at the end of this tunnel. She wished so much that she could contact her, ask her how she was doing. Was she worried? Scared, like Sierra was?

“I’m so sorry, Elaine…” she told the mirror. Or… no. She would justify this crusade of hers. As long as she came back alive, she could hold her head up high…

Well, what could she actually do? Blowing up a needle or two wasn’t in the plan, apparently, but so much she wanted to wipe those disgusting things out of the sky…

Ah, and just how awful were they! Giant self propelled guns. Not used for trade, or transport, and certainly not recreation. Purely a weapon of war. In this day and age, humans were still designing and using machines with the sole purpose of killing.

Could not everyone be as enlightened as she? Perhaps turning every last human in the Federation into a maid would produce lasting peace. How wild would that be, Sierra wondered…

No, these self indulgent fantasies would lead nowhere, Sierra knew. If anything, they demonstrated a belligerent streak of the girl’s own. 

Such a shame. Sierra was a human being. Somehow, that hadn’t stopped Elaine from loving her.

Sierra stripped and stepped into the shower. She had a part to perform and she’d perform it well. For the sake of Elaine, and for the sake of everyone she’d met in this world…

And… for her own sake, as well. She had a life she wanted to live. Elaine and her, in a place of their own. Sierra working at the Bundeshalle to make ends meet and keep up with her friends. A quiet, safe life, near the people she loved…

She would make it happen.

Sierra stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the change of underthings she’d brought with her. Also among her belongings was her interface suit, which she just had to hope would sync up with her ship before it changed back into a maid uniform. What an interesting problem to have… did the changes pick up on intention? Because if they could detect that she needed the interface suit to complete a task, well…

Maybe Command had an answer. She could hope. For now, though, Sierra tucked herself into bed. Dalia, putting her holo away, stood up.

“I’ll dim the lights for you, Ms. Sierra!”

“Goodnight, Ms. Dalia.”

The next morning after breakfast Sierra and Chloe were led back to their ships.

“Command wants you two to inspect them before anything else happens,” Captain Metzger explained. “We’ve done our own inspections, of course, but we figure you two know your ships better than we do. Are there any questions?”

Sierra and Chloe both shook their heads.

“Heeeey gals!” Morgan said, stepping into the hangar behind them. She waved, grinning at them.

“Ms. Harlow!” Metzger declared. Chloe stood to attention. “You will additionally show Ms. deGaine here around the craft. Show her how it works, alright?”

Chloe nodded. “Understood, ma’am.”

“Fantastic! I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Before Sierra could do anything else, Morgan came up and hugged her.” How’re ya liking the place?” she asked.

“Have you been here before, Ms. Morgan?” Sierra asked back.

She nodded. “Yup! It’s where I was stationed before I was in Aachen. It’s really cool, isn’t it?”

“It is awe inspiring, Ms. Morgan. I fear I would get lost immediately, had I not the captain here to guide me.”

“That’s right, I’m good for something after all!” Captain Metzger declared.

“Well, I better get over to Chloe,” Morgan said. “You’ll do super well, Sierra! I just know.”

The maid nodded back at her. “I thank you, Ms. Morgan.” With that, the pilot smiled at her, and then sauntered over to where Chloe was.

Sierra faced her ship. She reached out to touch it. It felt like it’d been so long and now she was back, and she didn’t know how to feel. There was a surreality to it for sure. 

To start with, she’d have to get inside the thing. “Captain Stinson ready to board,” she said quietly. Would it… yes, the ship whirred to life. The cockpit opened and the ladder to it lowered.

“Captain recognized,” the ship’s computer stated. It was a miracle; even as she was, the thing seemed to know it was her…

Sierra climbed into the cockpit. “Interface suit missing!” the computer observed, and a compartment opened on its own, revealing a spare. Maybe if she painted it black and white…

Chuckling and shaking her head, Sierra stepped behind the flat surface she’d lay on to pilot the thing, and back into the cargo hold. Everything was… right where she left it. Her bedroll, pushed up against the hull, the openings meant to hold pulse bombs instead holding changes of clothes and basic foodstuffs. Relics of a life that was once hers. There was the secret compartment where she hid from the authorities on Telmarkis 49 as they searched her craft. There was the tube that would blast her with water when she needed to clean herself.

And… there was the gilt box that held the Talerian seal, returned to where it had been. Just out of curiosity, Sierra opened it. The seal was right there. Perhaps the president had been wearing a fake? Or perhaps they’d simply brought it here for the mission?

The mission… they were meeting in that war room again after this. To further discuss the plan to capture the Coronam Princeps. Just one tactic in the larger theater, but Sierra was sure it was an important one.

She went back into the cockpit. “Please run a systems diagnostic scan,” she told the computer. The ship beeped in affirmation.

“Dimensional Drive disabled. Hyperdrive disabled. All other functions normal. Alert! Tampering reported since captain’s last manual scan. No resultant damage. User is advised to check cargo hold.”

The tampering must have been the Earth military’s own inspection, Sierra reasoned.

“Scanning for nearest Nuclestar-affiliated repair facility… no results found!” the computer reported. Oh well. How was one to tell their ship it was to be their last flight?

Sierra climbed down from the cockpit. “All done?” the captain asked. Sierra nodded. “Then we’re just waiting for Ms. deGaine and Ms. Harlow.”

Chloe came out of the back of her ship not too long afterwards. She was shaking like a leaf, and held something in both hands. Tears were streaming down her face.

“Now what’s that you got there?” the captain asked.

“It’s…” she trailed off, continuing to sob. Sierra had a terrible feeling in her gut. And a terrible idea of what it might be.

“Well, speak up.” Metzger cocked her head at the girl as she cried. She wore a look of growing concern.

“It’s… a t-tracking device, ma’am…”