Though the boy was only five, he had reached an age where he understood much of the strife his parents endured, and he struggled with life aboard Pier 16. It was indeed no place for a child, as it was little more than a space station packed with the winding corridors of temporary hab blocks, shipping yards, and several entertainment and retail decks.
Being on the edge of Grotto space meant that Pier 16 was frequented by a colorful array of space travelers, most all of whom had business dealings with Grotto in one form or another.
The intergalactic corporate system was built upon the foundation of a universal currency, and though each corporate civilization had its own unique brand of society, the existence of a universal currency ensured that the system could function.
Many centuries ago the corporate masters gathered and pooled all of their various forms of currency to establish a standard universal currency. This new currency was based on nothing more than an agreed upon value of their pooled former currencies prior to their destruction and devaluation.
A central financial institution was created, the Currency Control Complex, to exist and operate as an independent entity. The staff and Executive Board of the CCC were formed from within the ranks, in equal measure, of each corporation in the universe. These individuals then renounced their former societies and pledged their lives to the CCC. For centuries the bloodlines of these original members had managed the ebb and flow of the universal currency. The CCC decided how much money existed, what the value of each increment is, and by doing so managed the rates of inflation and deflation. They were protected by an on-going contract with the Merchants Militant, the only other truly independent universe-wide organization in corporate space.
This independence from the corporate system while still being a critical functionary of the system prevented, in theory, the kind of corruption and scheming that ultimately degrades the effectiveness of backed or fiat currencies.
In many ways, or so it was taught to Sura during her compulsory Grotto education, the CCC functioned much like the religious organizations of the ancient world. The hereditary members of the Complex approach their duties with the upmost reverence. Sura was positive though, that there was some truth in the rumors about the vast estates, private starships, and other trappings of wealth that often accompanied any conversation about the CCC bloodlines.
Thanks to this universe-wide system, trade was possible by anyone with anyone, and though tax and tariff varied from corporation to corporation, as did holding accounts and banking schemes, money was money no matter where one happened to be in corporate space.
Pier 16 was often filled with traders and merchants of one stripe or another seeking to move goods and services in and out of Grotto. While there was a criminal element in Pier 16, comprised of various smuggler cartels and the occasional pirate vessel looking to offload black market cargo, the space station was generally considered a Grotto marketplace. Pier 16 existed just on the other side of marked Grotto space, and was an independent station, though it enjoyed enough proximity to Grotto space that security pickets kept predators away from the station.
Six months after the war with Helion was officially declared, Sura and the rest of the population of Pier 16 paid the price for that close relationship with Grotto Corporation. On that horrible day, Helion revealed the lengths to which they were prepared to go in order to force Grotto to abandon its expansion across the Ellisian Line.
She had been on the market deck, threading her way through the labyrinth of stalls that comprised the massive converted hangar bay.
Unlike the grocery stores of Baen 6 the marketplace of Pier 16 offered quite an array of foodstuffs, much more than she or Samuel had ever experienced. They had assumed that the station would offer similar bland fare to what they’d grown up with. They had discovered that with all of the space traffic, a booming food industry had risen. Vessel crews would disembark with bellies hungry for something more flavorful than ship’s rations, and the vendors of Pier 16 had long since adapted to this need for engaging cuisine.
Despite the fact that there were no schools to speak of and very few other children aboard the station, Sura did take some modest comfort knowing that Orion’s palate at least would not go undeveloped and since they could not yet leave with Samuel to start their homestead Sura certainly could afford it.
She had been picking through a stack of roasted vegetables when she had reached for a bright red one just as a stranger did the same. When their hands collided he politely apologized and for a moment he and Sura held each other’s gaze.
He was a tall individual, dressed in the rugged outfits that Sura had learned were the mark of professional prospectors. Sura recalled that he had made small talk about the red ones being overly spicy, and suggested that unless she knew just how to peel the skins she was better off with the milder yellow ones.
Sura couldn’t remember exactly where the conversation had gone, as it was little more than small talk, though it had felt good, and that feeling is what she held in her mind. While the handful of locals Sura had befriended knew her as a Reaper spouse, despite the paper divorce, there were always spacefarers of one kind or another who approached her in the market. Truth be told Sura didn’t mind the attention, even if she never returned it, though in that moment with the man she would come to know as Dar she found herself laughing and flirting back in spite of herself. Pier 16 was a lonely place, despite the crowds.
Sura eventually left the market, having coyly refused the man’s bold, yet polite advances. With Samuel six months deep in a war that seemed like it might grow larger before it ended, Sura had felt a familiar twinge of guilt. Both she and Samuel had admitted to their past infidelities, though had shared little detail beyond the acknowledgement that they had both wronged one another. Neither she nor Samuel had a desire to know names, places, or details, and both were thankful for the ignorance.
Sura considered it likely that one or more of the women Samuel had been with, alive or dead, were members of Tango Platoon. While part of her was stung by the reality of sending her man back to war alongside former lovers, another part of her was happy that at least he would be surrounded by people who, in their own way, cared about him. Samuel, while on the front lines of a vast war, was among comrades and trusted allies. Sura and Orion only had each other, at least until Rig Halo and its captain.
She had been awoken in the dead of night cycle by the shuddering of the small apartment she shared with Orion. Sura rushed to Orion’s side and found him awake and crying, just before a second shudder caused the shelving units in the apartment to fall. Sura had never been in a battle, but most Grotto citizens had worked in several industrial plants, and accidents did happen. When the third shudder shook their apartment Sura was convinced that they were either under attack or some kind of catastrophic failure had occurred on the propulsion deck. She had witnessed a mechanical failure that resulted in secondary explosions just before leaving her first job, long before meeting Samuel that day in the city.
Whatever the reason, Sura knew the station was in jeopardy and that suspicion was confirmed when the atmosphere warning sirens began wailing. Sura swiftly gathered Orion into her arms and fled the apartment, taking no time to snatch additional clothes or keepsakes. Nothing else mattered to her in that moment but her son.