Free Hard Vacuum 1 by Simon Cantan

Chapter 1
    DOCKING
     
    T he space station was a gaudy-looking thing, emblazoned everywhere with the WeaverCorp logo. Four pizza-slice-shaped docking rings met in the middle in a bright, flashing round hub. WC blinked out into the vacuum of space from the top.
    The troop ship, also billboarded with WeaverCorp logos, inched closer. It extended a long, flexible coupling towards the metal ring of the docking port. The coupling wrapped itself around the ring and clung on, pulling tight. The ship spurted again, matching speed with the station.
    Kyra Sarin turned off her ReadyNet connection, and the image of the ship winked out of her vision. She grinned at the flight attendant sitting opposite her and got a shy smile in return. Kyra's dozen medals, floating back and forth, abruptly fell with a clink as the station's gravity enveloped them.
    Kyra took a photo from the front pocket of her combat suit and stared at it. A static shot of her daughters, waving at the camera and smiling. They'd been four and seven, respectively, when the picture had been taken. Kyra didn't know what they'd look like now, after five long years of war. Communications in the outer solar system had been impossible. She wondered if they would even recognise her.
    The flight attendant got to her feet and said something in Mandarin, waving to Kyra.
    Kyra couldn't understand her words, but she got the message — she could leave the ship. Some genius on Earth had decided to hire English speakers to fight and Mandarin speakers as support. It was worst in supply situations, where the ReadyNet connections regularly messed up a translation.
    Kyra unbuckled her seatbelt and got to her feet, pulling out her bag from an overhead locker. She glanced back at the rows of seats behind hers— five hundred of them, all now empty. Four hundred and ninety-nine of her friends (and enemies) had died at the hands of the Xenomigrants.
    The flight attendant said something else, a little more urgently, and waved again.
    Kyra nodded and followed the woman out of the ship, across the soft coupling and into the space station.
    Five hundred soldiers were standing at attention in front of the docking port. They saluted as one. Their captain managed a weak smile, trying to hide her nervousness, and approached.
    "Sergeant, it's an honour to meet you," the captain said.
    Kyra read the woman's name — Kumar — and nodded. "Captain Kumar."
    Captain Kumar leaned in close. "I don't mean to bother you, but I wondered if you have any advice?"
    "Aim for the fucking knees," Kyra said. She pushed past the captain and walked between the soldiers, all of them still at full salute. They looked like innocent children. Some of them even wore makeup.
    "Alright you fucking swamp rats, get on the boat before I shoot you myself!" Captain Kumar roared.
    Kyra turned and watched row after row of soldiers jog inside the ship. She tried to recall the same moment, five years ago, when she'd flown out. The memory wouldn't come.
    For over a decade, five hundred soldiers had gone out every month. All of them sent to fight the Xenomigrants around Eris. Of those thousands, four had survived long enough to return home. The screens in the barracks had played endless loops of their homecomings — a futile dream that it was possible to survive. Kyra had abandoned that hope early. Soldiers who clung to it died quickly — their minds focused on Earth and not on the gigantic bug trying to eat them.
    The last soldier ran through the soft coupling into the ship, and the docking port irised shut.
    Kyra walked to a nearby porthole and looked out. She watched the ship fall away from the station, white plumes of liquid jetting from it. Somehow, seeing the ship leave made the return to Earth more real. Now there was no way of her returning to Eris. For some reason, she felt a twinge of sadness, but it was suffocated under relief.
    With the ship gone, the docking area sprang into action. Workers appeared from nearby corridors and