Haline

Chapter 1: Part 2

EARLY EVENING, BETA RING

        Lieutenant Aaren Jemmer arrived back at police headquarters, and the exhausted yet joyful smile of a productive day gave way to a blank expression that reflected the loneliness that awaited him at home. He unsnapped his hard-body chest gear as he made his way to the changing room, exchanging hellos and salutes with fellow officers and staff he passed in the hall. On the screen he noticed the ongoing coverage of the upcoming Election.

The president is confident that the people will reward his success in maintaining stable food supplies and doubling personal security initiatives with another term.

Though there were expectations that the Cotters would wage an unprecedented propaganda war this Election, the improving conditions in the Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon Rings have eroded much of their support. Decreased attacks from Latmero and warm relations with our suppliers have further bolstered his position. When elected, it will be the third consecutive term for President Jemmer.

        The smile returned to Aaren’s face as it often did when he heard his last name preceded by the word “president.”“Jemmer” was a safe family name during the wars that regained popularity with the rise of now-President Gaven Jemmer. He eased his chest gear over his head and slipped on a light jacket, wondering what a third term for President Jemmer would mean for Lieutenant Jemmer. An easier life, probably, given the ever-increasing authority and control the president seemed to command, resulting in greater public safety and dwindling Resistance and Cotter movements. Fine by him. The Resistance had already all but disappeared, and the Cotters didn’t seem to pose much of a threat anymore.

        Sitting down, he snapped off his officer boots and slipped on his street shoes, taking a second to appreciate the way they felt on his worn feet— light, airy, comfortable. It was a feeling he always enjoyed after a long day— but one he treated as a reward more than a right, for reasons he kept carefully to himself. He picked up a boot and ran his fingers over the red stitch of the Haline emblem: six concentric rings and a blocky H stretching from the top of the outer ring to its bottom. He stood and put it in his locker along with its pair , then turned to watch the screen for a few seconds before mumbling, “See you at home, SAI,” and taking the lift down to the garage.