Ends
2170
Andie paused for breath at the apex of the hill, the autumn breeze blowing steadily into her face. This hill marked the edge of the New Independence settlement. Beyond were still unexplored wilds, rife with tough scrab grass and packs of feral yeks.
Her dog, Macbeth, growled softly in the growing twilight. Andie shifted on her feet, the old shotgun in her hands a reassuring weight.
"Smell a yek, boy?" She rubbed behind his ears fondly. "They know better than to tangle with you."
The little puppy she'd rescued had grown into a hulking mutt with a thick, muscular body: a perfect colony farm dog. He kept the pyjaks and rats out of the utility sheds and was always up for a game of fetch.
She didn't know what she'd do with him if she actually took up Aunt Essie's offer to join the Alliance when she turned eighteen. Andie knew that dogs had no place on a starship. Perhaps if she got a ground posting? But her sister Gabby loved Macbeth too, and someone had to watch out for little Isaac, always into everything. Then again... Andie inhaled a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. She loved Mindoir—she didn't really want to leave at all. She'd never told anyone this, but after her older brother Erik had left to sign up with the Alliance, and she saw the sadness in her father's eyes, she'd formed a stubborn resolution to manage the farm herself someday. She already did a lot of work overseeing some of the hands who labored in the fields. Most crops these days were picked by machine, but strawberries continued to be one of the few fruits that turned out better with human harvesters. The small, red fruit was too delicate to be tossed around by an indifferent machine.
Yes, she decided. She would stay in New Independence, help her father manage the farm, keep her mother infused with new ideas for hardier plants that yielded more.
The only thing to mar this perfect existence was the niggling annoyance of those scientists from that BioWorks company. Andie frowned, remembering the day. They'd come to the door, obvious offworlders with the red-eyed, thirsty look of folks who hadn't gotten used to Mindoir's dry air—which you either did within a couple of days, or got as sick as a turian who'd eaten the wrong kind of food. They'd wanted to talk to Andie in private, but her mother wasn't having it. She'd folded her arms, giving them that look which Andie knew from experience meant she wasn't going to budge an inch.
After much tugging of collars and nervous glances, they'd finally come out with it: word had gotten around about Andie's biotic potential, and they wanted to outfit Andie with a biotic implant. Andie had been intrigued at first. She knew that she could do weird stuff and knew what it was called thanks to the distant memory of a biotic alien who'd been selling something on Mindoir when she was a kid. But she'd never had much control over what she could do. It would flare up at random, sometimes when she was mad, but other times when she was simply over-exited about something. At the words "high-risk surgery" and "possibility of brain damage," however, Joanna had shut them down and politely, though forcefully, removed them from their home.
They hadn't given up, though. Just the other day Andie had received an email from their company, offering the surgery for free provided she take the training course and agree to be part of a study for the new implant. She hadn't shown it to her parents yet. Biotic abilities could be useful around the farm. What if some heavy piece of equipment fell on someone? A wave of her hand and it could be lifted to safety.
Macbeth growled again.
Andie sighed. "Okay, we're going."
She took one last glimpse of the sunset, throwing red, gold, and purple highlights over the distant hills, and inhaled a deep breath, preparing for the downward climb.
Wait a minute. Andie sniffed the air again. What was that? It smelled like smoke….
Andie turned back the direction she'd come, looking out over the small farming community of New Independence. A boxy, battered cargo frigate was clearly visible in the growing darkness, as it had all its lights ablaze. She frowned. The landing pad wasn't equipped to let a vessel of that size land, what a moron... The thought slipped through her mind like gravel beneath her feet as she saw small, ant-like figures moving through the darkness, being pursued by larger forms. The distant whap of gunfire crackled through the air. Her shotgun dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers to lay forgotten in the dust.
"Mom! Daddy!" she shrieked. Macbeth at her heels, Andie ran down the hill and into hell.