[center][b][h1][color=crimson]C E L I N A J A C K S P A R[/color][/h1][/b][/center] [right][hr][color=gray][b]Smith's Rest, New Anchorage[/b] Present Day[/color][hr][/right] Mornings for Celina had always started early. She awoke, often before the sun, and strived to be out of the door by first light. Since the election her routine had grown only more vigorous; she now ate at the office, or if the welcome-workload was abnormally high, made due with coffee—she was a tower, but a narrow one. This didn’t save her any great amount of time, but it did get her out of the house faster. Since the girls had gone, she found that she preferred being elsewhere, curiously. The walk to work was considerable, and brisk, but Celina had always been a durable woman. She was Alaskan-born, she’d suffered through unyielding winters on little more than brittle shelter and willpower. The breeze would not shake her. Relocation had been offered as a result of her new office, but she’d refused. To say turning down a suite in the higher, sturdier buildings closer to the centre was purely for humility’s sake would have been a lie. She knew it looked better for her to remain living amongst the civilians. It served her more to remain firmly in the lay-land where her roots were than to watch her growing city from the comfort of a penthouse, just as it served New Anchorage to have a leader who didn’t put herself above them. There was no small satisfaction in the fact that she’d secured a rather unanimous approval within the settlement. But her home, Smith’s Rest as it would forever be, was not the only settlement she needed to be concerned with. [color=gray]“Good morning, Chief Minister!”[/color] Her attendant, an eager if somewhat scattered young woman named Naomi, greeted her outside of her office. She was partway through her twenties and quite apparently pregnant, but despite this she always managed to meet Celina on-time, with a cup of coffee and a daily schedule ready. [color=crimson]“Good morning,”[/color] she returned, and entered the office. Naomi followed. The room was nothing special, bigger in reputation than actual size. A desk with its back to a window that saw the centre from two-stories up. Cabinets lined one wall, a long couch the other with a table bearing water for guests. She’d have preferred something with a few of the distant facility, but she also held a certain fondness for the grit of the settlement’s middle. Naomi laid out an over-stuffed folder as Celina took her seat. Falcon’s Reach. Most of the papers she’d already read over the past few weeks. They detailed mainly the nature of the expedition Graham was sending out to them, which concerned her little. [i]What[/i] Falcon’s Reach wanted from them mattered significantly less than the fact that they’d asked for help. Smith’s Rest had doubtlessly grown into the strongest of the independent Alaskan settlements, but they were still a far cry from being a true presence. If New Anchorage was going to become a truly independent entity, they needed more than one up-jumped settlement. Much more. Others might have employed more direct methods, since it wasn’t exactly difficult to force subjugation on others with a fleet of NC’s behind you. The Megacity demonstrated this clearly. But it was not her goal to herald in a Megacity. At least not as they were understood now. Their methods were effective, but flawed in inconsistent, yet nuanced and exploitable ways. Fairbanks had a history of ignoring their outlier settlements, Red Star prized machine over pilot, and Volkov—as much as they were owed for New Anchorage’s survival—was no stranger to unrest at even the most trusted levels. Already these flaws had netted her star-players from across the world. Tahlia Styles, daughter of Jin Styles and renowned commander from Broken Hill. Anastasia Kalfox, Volkov prodigy. Fouren and Drahdt, whose dossiers may have been less decorated, were certainly no less promising. Even out of the pilot seat she had in her fold a storied commander from Denver-Vegas, and [i]the[/i] Ingram Kalfox. It would have been easy to glance at New Anchorage and see nothing more than a sprawling tower of ice-crusted iron. And it would be a mistake. [color=gray]“So, Falcon’s Reach is ready and expecting our team. They’re holding off on the ‘thanks’ for now but I’ll bet that comes in spades once this is all taken care of,”[/color] Naomi said, sifting through a few of the papers. Celina expected as much. Smith’s Rest and Falcon’s Reach had never been much more than neighbors, it was right for them to be skeptical, which only meant their appreciation would be more sincere. The payment for this little mission wasn’t stellar, in fact it was markedly less than they should have expected, even from a waster plot like theirs. That was the point. The payment was more of a formality, coverage for the labor and some of the supplies they’d use, little else. What she truly wanted from this was conversation, and favor. She had no problems helping Falcon’s Reach establish itself, she only wanted to be a part of their reconstruction—and she wanted them to know that. What mattered here was unity. If they could bring Falcon’s Reach into the fold, then suddenly their territory, their eyes and their eyes, reached much farther. [color=crimson]“When it is, I’d like you to invite them to send a delegation to our next town hall. Tell them to come with a list of their most pressing issues.”[/color] [color=gray]“Yes ma’am. And your meeting with the builders’ guild is still on for two-o’-clock. Here’s the rest of the schedule, no major last-minute changes but some shuffling. Anything else?”[/color] Celina shook her head no, and Naomi left the room. She had barely enough time to look through the rest of the schedule before her data-tool hummed an incoming call. Her daughter. She tapped to receive it, and went back to arranging her papers. [color=6ecff6]“Good morning, mother.”[/color] [color=crimson]“Good morning, Elizabeth. I trust everything is moving along there.”[/color] [color=6ecff6]“Yes ma’am. Kalfox, Fouren and Moore will be preparing to leave soon.”[/color] [color=crimson]“Moore. Right, yes, I’d almost forgotten. Good, he could use the opportunity to better his standing with the public. In the worst case, he still has Kalfox and Fouren with him.”[/color] [color=6ecff6]“Of course.”[/color] Elizabeth’s tone was flat, it always was when they spoke, but Celina had an ear for divining meaning from it. It was obvious to her that she was not content with Graham’s selection, that perhaps she doubted Moore’s capabilities, or Fouren’s reliability. It was obvious to her that Elizabeth felt wasted with her feet on the ground, because that was how Celina had raised her. [color=crimson]“Your sister’s recovery should be coming along nicely.”[/color] Celina said. Changing the topic was easy when it came to Vera, moreover it was almost impossible for Elizabeth to remain stony then. She spoke hopefully. [color=6ecff6]“It is. She’s started physical training, and should be fit for simulations. There’s been no discussion yet as to her NC, but I believe they’ll likely repurpose Sky’s for her.”[/color] [color=crimson]“Good. New Anchorage has a keen eye on the children. I doubt they’ll get much out of miss Drahdt outside of the missions, so it’s important Vera maintains a good public appearance.”[/color] [color=6ecff6]“Of course.”[/color] Silence then. Elizabeth had been more prone to that recently. [color=crimson]“Well. If you don’t have anything else to report, that will be all. Once the expedition returns, I’ll want the unofficial details. I’m sure Moore and Fouren will be willing enough to talk. Goodbye, Elizabeth.”[/color] [color=6ecff6]“Goodbye.”[/color] Celina hung up and sat back in her chair. Turning to the window, she wished again for a view of the facility, or past that the vast Alaskan wastes beyond New Anchorage’s walls. Once that sight had been nothing but a bleak reminder of their meaningless existence, but nowadays she often took the opportunity to look upon it. Now it was more than just frozen soil and snow. Now, every inch of that pale horizon was potential. It was New Anchorage.