(This is a novel in progress set in the Empire of Humanity. Tessa Prentiss is the viewpoint character. She’s originally from Carlisle in northern England, 78 Earth years old with three grown children and a grandson. Her husband lost his adulthood, and she’s become the embassy liaison for a new embassy in Earth’s instance)
Corporal Munranu was sitting at the end of one table, alone. I got myself a banteng steak and an Imperial staple that tasted like sweet potato, then approached. “May I sit?”
“Please do.”
“I noticed you’re all alone here, despite plenty of other soldiers in the room.”
“I’m their commanding officer. It would be inappropriate for them to approach me; it would create tension if I approached them.”
“I didn’t realize the contrast in ranks was so great. ‘Corporal’ was a common rank in my home, before contact. I think it might have led a small unit of eight or so.”
“The Empire must have a steeper gradient. I am the only corporal among the Planetary Surface forces here, and there are twenty prime of us on board. I’m the lowest grade of corporal, at that. Above Trained Private, all non-staff Planetary Surface ranks come with command of a specified unit of troops. I have three subordinate Platoon Privates, twelve Section Privates. The lowest of our sergeant grades is typically operations officer for a squadron of twelve squares.”
“So why am I welcome?”
“Because you’re outside our chain of command. There are no issues of favoritism socializing with you, so if we should end up being friends, it would be a welcome relief, as I was anticipating two years without much social interaction.”
“Oh. Does that mean you’ve had an embassy posting before?”
“Once. I was a Section Private in a major embassy. There were a full company of Planetary Surface on board, and so I had a number of equals and near-equals, and there is more fraternization allowed when you’re not the commanding officer present. Staff Privates are a near equivalent to Section Privates, technically senior but out of the line of command, so social opportunities were less limited in my last embassy assignment.”
“You’re all alone these whole two years?”
She shook her head, “The ship’s side is a different chain of command, and there are ten or twelve times as many of them. But it’s difficult starting out; they’ve paid their transfer fee and I haven’t yet.”
“Huh?”
“Everyone starts in Planetary Surface, and transferring to Tactical or Strategic Space usually means accepting a two to four grade demotion. So those who’ve made the transfer have a less than favorable view of those who haven’t. On the beneficial side, every space officer understands the Planetary Surface life, what we’ve gone through just to get through training, so they don’t get us killed without need or beyond need.”
“I had an interesting conversation last night with one of your subordinates. He led me to believe embassies turn into a giant soap opera after a few weeks.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sorry, on Earth we had melodrama entertainment, where the major focus was who was pairing off with who.”
“Oh. Nothing so dramatic. Mostly it’s just people pairing off sexually out of boredom. Some folks pair off for the duration, some for a shift, and some organize group activities. Whatever your preference, you’ll find those who share it among the crew.”
“Is nobody married?”
“Your planet must be new. Quite a few are married; I am myself. But most imperial contracts do not demand sexual exclusivity; most of them only demand reproductive exclusivity. Don’t you have a modern fertility implant?”
“Well, yes. Is your husband aboard?”
She shook her head, “He runs a delivery service at on Geoghan, where we make our home.”
“Any children?”
“Two so far, one adult, one approaching her thirtieth birthday. Both of them work with Theshunt. You?”
“Three, all adult. One grandson.”
“So you’re not a nervous virgin. Nobody should pressure you, but if you get the itch, no reason you can’t scratch it. Or does your contract demand sexual exclusivity?”
“Well, it did, but we’re divorced now. And well, I’m not in my teens, either.”
“Stay celibate if you want. Be aware, by the end of the voyage, you’ll likely be climbing the walls, and you may be tripping over people doing the deed in the corridors or at least the utility rooms, but the Empire comes down hard on coercion. So long as everyone is willing and not neglecting duties, nobody else cares. Some folks do it right in their squad rooms, others require a private nook, but the vast majority do it and the only time commanders care is if it interferes with the mission. Last embassy posting, the ambassador seemed to always have a different partner going every few minutes whenever she wasn’t meeting with the natives.”
“Nobody reported it?”
“Why would they? Different chain of command, and she was good at her job.”
“I guess I have some new things to process about life in the Empire.”
“Just on isolated postings. Not to say it doesn’t happen in the arcologies on human planets, but it’s not so frenzied. A Giant-class ship may seem big, but it’s tiny by comparison to any mature world cities. Off duty opportunities are limited. There’s training and maintenance to keep us busy, but we can only do so much of those productively. We are not allowed leave embassy grounds. As a result, people get bored. Sex is one of the ways they distract themselves. Some have hobbies, but space is limited, too. When people run out of ways to distract themselves, they get destructive, and we don’t want that.”
Mosser had said something about roughly four squares of humans on board – less than fifteen thousand was not a city, or even a large town. Carlisle was five or six times that, and it seemed at times as if the neighbors were players in a soap themselves. I knew by experience ‘hold my beer’ stunts weren’t limited to American rednecks. So perhaps there was a point to all that. “It’s just all the Imperials I’ve met until now are so big on responsibility.”
“If they’re getting destructive, they’re no longer healthy, and we want to fix it before it results in real problems. But since you’re not going to get pregnant, and you’re not going to catch some incurable disease, most of the Empire doesn’t see a problem, and we definitely don’t see imposing restrictions on fellow adults so long as they don’t do damage to others or the mission.”
“So if I wink at one of the lads, I might find myself making the beast with two backs shortly? And nobody cares?”
“Well, potential partners have the same discretion you do. Generally not a problem with the lonely lads, but we do have at least one married couple on board, and a few are chasing other lads – roughly one in sixty. Almost feel sorry for their limited selection in a sterile posting. On the other hand, given the circumstances, anyone might be in the mood for a bit of fun, whether it’s their usual or no. But if they’re consenting, and you’re not preventing the main airlock from closing with your activities, have fun.”
“So what do your duties consist of?”
“We Planetary Surface folk are watch in four, and watches are three hours.” That was just over five Earth. “We have twelve sections, so three on duty at any given time, usually two outside the ship and one in. Patrol, suit maintenance, training. Off duty, more suit maintenance, more training – usually for individual advancement – hobbies, and group activities. There might be a hadul league, if there are enough players. Others play simulations. And, of course, there’s always mixed doubles.”
Munranu was one of the homeliest women I’d ever seen, so if she had partners for ‘mixed doubles’, I guessed I could get a partner, too, provided I wanted one. Truth be told, there’d been some of that in St. Petersburg; it’s just the matter-of-fact, ‘of course’ nature of the way they talked that threw me off. I started to ask if there were social rules I needed to pay attention to, but she said, “I have to go, there’s a situation,” and was out the door so fast I could barely blurt out “’bye for now!” before she was gone.
Copyright 2026 Dan Melson. All Rights Reserved
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