Krystal Miles comes from a long line of engineers, her family being the ones responsible for extended space travel. Unfortunately, she decides to enlist as a medic instead of an engineer in the Intergalactic Marines. Hoping to make a name for hersel...
The one thing that I hated about things was the fact my parents thought I couldn't hear them. The walls in the house weren't super thin, but thin enough to hear people when they tried to talk low.
Either that or my hearing was outstanding.
It wasn't bad, not like they were arguing. I just smiled and looked over the brochure that was sent to me personally.
"She's at that age, Yolanda. You knew they would want her because of her last name alone." my dad sighed out, at least it sounded that way. For as long as I could remember, my parents never argued. They would talk to each other, voice their different opinions, and come to a compromise.
"I don't think she's ready. We've been here for so long–"
"How about we let her decide? Krys is so headstrong, you know this."
"Yes. She gets it from you." I couldn't see their faces, but I imagined the smirk and eye roll that my mom gave my dad at that moment. I always thought she hated the fact I looked almost exactly like her, but I was my dad through and through.
Their talk was over and I had to pretend that I wasn't listening in. Music flowed through my ears from my audio cell, drowning out any outside sound. I pretended to be startled when my door swung open and my dad's face appeared.
"Sorry kid, you got those things too loud again. Probably why you didn't hear me," he smirked as I removed the tiny buds from my ears.
"Sorry," I sat up in my bed and then looked at the projector clock on the wall. "Dinner's ready?"
"Soon. Your mom cooked your favorite." this I didn't know, so my reaction was genuine.
"Mom got them?"
"Mm-hmm. It feels like a celebration, but let's talk about it over dinner." he smiled widely and I got up to eat.
We were an average family if I had to be honest. With the exception that my family was the reason for space travel. We were the engineers responsible, with my great-great-great... great grandfather being the first to come up with the designs for the first ships able to withstand lengthier space travel. Not to say that his ships set everything in motion, but they helped a great deal.
The Miles name became world known and every Miles who went into the military or into science went in as an engineer. At least that's how the story goes. I couldn't imagine how things were back then but for as long as I could remember, as long as my parents remembered, you could only become an engineer by enlisting into the Intergalactic Marines, which meant a Miles was always military.
At the dinner table, the sight of the brochure played throughout my mind. I had studied it for an hour, knew it by heart: on the last page was a tribute to the forefathers of military advancement and in the fifth row, third across was the slightly grainy image of Terrance Miles. The genes were strong because I could definitely point out similar features in my dad; the only difference was that he had caramel skin and not the dark mahogany of Terrance.
I savored the dinner: a ribeye steak with white rice and broccoli. All were scarce unless you were rich or shared a lineage with a Miles. We tried not to bank on the family name, but I would not complain about the special treat of a dinner. I had heard the old folks talk about how rice used to not be as scarce, and it could be with every meal.
Still, I savored it.
"Have you decided?" my mom asked out of the blue. I always thought she was beautiful, and that I wanted to be the same dark skin tone as herself but I ended up with my dad's. She was just so elegant-looking.
I nodded and finished what I had in my mouth. The decision was always easy for me, ever since I was twelve. I belonged in the military. Even if I wasn't a Miles, I would have the desire to enlist as it was. Attempt to get into the space exploration branch and not become stuck planet-bound. A lot of us who took up residency on the outposts didn't want to be stuck there. It was good for the older folks, but not for someone my age.
"I want to join," I said after I could speak. My dad's eyes gleamed a bit while mom's dimmed. "But... I want to work with the medics." I finished and watched them carefully.
You could hear a pin drop on the carpet with as much silence as there was in the room.
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