(Months Earlier)

“Now arriving, Sumeria Central Terminal.”

Aqua-green eyes snapped open and then snapped closed once again as the programmed artificial sunlight blindingly filtered in.  Yet it wasn’t enough to deter their owner, as they opened once again, this time a bit more slowly to allow them to properly adjust. It was as the announcement was made a second time that she finally moved, rising to her feet and stretching as the train gently came to a stop, a yawn escaping her lips as she worked out the kinks in her body brought on a deliberate lack of proper sleep. 

Grabbing her purse, she made to join the throng of people exiting the train. Unable to resist the release of another deep yawn, she glanced up at the information board that highlighted the incoming and outgoing shuttles, idly noting that her shuttle to Akkadia One was still running on time. Fortunately, that on time was still another hour and a half away, which would allow her to exorcise her current status for something a tad bit better.

Satisfied with that goal, she made her way to a nearby cafe, ordering herself an espresso and finding herself a seat outside the cafe, allowing the combination of warm artificial sunlight and caffeine to slowly drag her awake.  It was only after half of the espresso had been consumed that she felt suitable enough to deal with the other facets of her early morning.  Withdrawing her phone from her purse, she touched the screen and brought up a holographic display.  Lazily perusing it, she found what she wanted, before setting it down upon the table at an angle and tapping an icon.

It responded immediately at the command input, light generating up into the air and coalescing to provide a mirror image for her to inspect.  Under ordinary circumstances, the visage of deep dark circles under her eyes, and lightly mussed black hair with arctic white strips on one side lazily tied into a messy ponytail would have been enough for the weekend; unfortunately, it wasn’t for where she was going.

Sighing deeply, she dug back into her purse and withdrew a brush and some make-up with the firm intent of concealing her late evening from the type of parties who would voice their opinion rather vigorously to her chagrin.  Luckily, she had been fortunate in the genetic lottery, requiring only a few minutes to touch herself up and make herself appear respectable again. 

Satisfied that at least she had that fire put out, she closed the application before ordering another espresso and a snack, taking the time as she finished polishing off the bitter drink by reading through social media. It was as the second espresso was placed before her, with a small cake, that the holographic display changed to show that she had an incoming call.  Reading the name, she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips as she felt a headache that she thought she had been free of from last night begin anew. Knowing that refusing to answer the call would only delay the inevitable, she hit the activation stub, watching as the screen changed to the image of an older, near-spitting image of herself if she had a medium tan and hazel-green eyes.  

“I just sat down,” she began, trying, and failing, to keep the irritation out of her tone.  It was honestly too early to deal with this, yet it appeared that she had no choice in the matter.

“Well hello to you too, Samantha,” Amelie Delacroix responded with a hint of tart of her own, “I just wanted to let you know that your father won’t be there to pick you up when you arrive.  The hospital called him again.  Your grandfather’s treatment suffered another setback and they want to consult with him on what the options are going forward.”

Samantha grimaced, feeling a bit guilty for her initial attitude now.  Grayson Knight, her grandfather, had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s nearly six years ago.  Normally, such a thing would have been easily treatable, almost an afterthought, but the elder Knight had been one of the few who were resistant to the general treatment.  It had been a slow, inexorable, decline that had been made only more difficult for her because her grandfather had been the man who had largely raised both her older brother and herself.

“How bad is it,” she found herself asking, not wanting, yet at the same time wanting to know.

There was a long pause from her mother, before she slowly shook her head, “Alexander didn’t say,” she finally said, “but he sounded,” she paused again, obviously looking for the right word, “defeated.”

Nodding dejectedly, she took a sip from her espresso.  There wasn’t much she could say on the subject that had not already been gone over so many times before.  It was the harsh reality of the situation.

“By the way,” Amelie started, obviously looking to change away from the unhappy subject, “I never got your progress report.”

“Mom,” she groaned, not liking the subject matter, “really?”

“Sam, please don’t tell me you’re coming home with less-than-pleasant news,” her mother demanded, “it’s the last thing either your father or I need.  There’s a lot of money riding on your education.”

This time she couldn’t help but scowl, “Yeah, a lot of dad’s money, Mom.  It’s not like you bothered to ask what I wanted to do with my life before spending the money.”

The groan from the other end was audible, as Amelie took the time to rub her forehead, “Sam, we’ve had this discussion before.  Even Alexander agrees you have a lot of potential at being a good lawyer.  It’s a good-paying job, and you already have a foot in the door at your grandfather’s firm.  Please don’t tell me you’re throwing all of that away.”

"Maybe being a lawyer is in my future, Mom.  But I just don’t feel it right now.  I’m twenty-five and you’ve spent the last decade planning my future without any of my input.  If you want to lose me like you did Isaiah, you can keep this up, or you can just let me breathe.”

It was cruel of her to do this, but frankly, she was just over it.  It wasn’t the matter of her mother understanding her situation and her unhappiness with it, she was just sick and tired of her obsession with planning her future.  It was why she was pretty sure her older brother, Isaiah, had left three years ago.  It hadn’t mattered to their mother and father that he was working a job that paid handsomely and left him financially secure; they had disapproved because it was with the military.

She could still remember the arguments that had raged in the household for years after the Second Earth-Space War.  They had hounded Isaiah to resign his commission insisting that he get a real job despite the plaudits and laurels he had accrued during his meteoric rise in the military after his conscription at the age of fifteen.  She didn’t know what had been going through his head towards the end, but there had been no warning when he suddenly resigned his commission and disappeared.

It had honestly been the final nail in the coffin of their already fracturing family, with her parents divorcing in all but reality, and her father withdrawing himself from their daily lives. But the worst part of it all was that it had deprived her of the brother she had looked up to, providing an example that she could only hope to emulate.  It was largely why she was doing what she was now, following in his footsteps in a way.

“If it’ll make you feel better, Mom,” she decided to offer an olive branch, “it’s not like I don’t have a job at the moment.  My third month’s paycheck from Hexa cleared last night if it’s money you’re so worried about."

“Being a mercenary,” was the spat answer, “Sam, you have no idea who you are getting in bed with. Vincent Vrey is never in your life going to be a man you can trust."

Isaiah never seemed to have a problem with him, Sam had to fight the urge to retort that factoid, knowing damned well it'd only incense her mother further.  She didn't know why both her parents looked poorly upon the CEO of Hexa International, only that they had some sort of irrational dislike for a man who had been quite supportive of her joining the Infinity Project.

“Don’t worry, Mom, all Mister Vrey pays me to do is to do routine simulation checks, and when I have the time, I get to do a few real test runs with other pilots.  Nothing too serious, and the pay’s plenty good enough.”

It was obvious to her that her mother wasn’t buying it, but if she didn’t want to accept that this was what she wanted, then that was her problem.  She was done trying to make her parents happy by making herself miserable, and if that caused her to break with them like Isaiah, so be it.  Not like she was cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face.

“Whatever,” Amelie finally said, recognizing the impasse, “you get to explain to your father your new life goals, he’ll be absolutely delighted in your choice,” and Sam couldn’t help but wince.  Yeah, just what she wanted, another one of those quiet, awkward conversations with her father that he only seemed to have with her when he could be bothered, or when her mother had badgered him enough, “and you may want to make sure Mr. Vrey,” she sneered at the name, “doesn’t decide to alter his deal with you and ship you Earthside to show off his toys.  See you at dinner.”

And with that, she cut the link, leaving Sam staring at emptiness for a few moments before her mind began processing what had been said.  That very next moment she immediately accessed her phone, looking through the recent news from Earth. It was a poorly hidden fact to anyone within the family that her mother had never really retired from her clandestine establishment, despite claims to the contrary. 

While she may no longer be taking part in field operations, she still kept her toes in the metaphorical water, keeping herself informed on events in the Earth sphere that fit within her job as a ‘security consultant’. As much as she wanted not to admit it, there was a distinct possibility that despite the cattiness of the moment, there was some truth to what she was saying.