Love on the Frontier

This story is a work of fiction. The main female protagonist is a trans woman. This story takes place on another planet.

All characters are over the age of eighteen. All grammatical errors are the result of a faulty spell check.

Constructive feedback is happily accepted, all other feedback is giddily ignored.

Happy reading!

*****

Close to the end of the twentieth century, the space race began. At least that's what I was taught in high school History class, but what most people didn't realize was that the race for the future began in nineteen hundred and three, old Earth calendar, when a pair of brothers pushed a new invention along a set of rails and flew a hundred and twenty feet over the land. Of course, there had been plenty of experiments before then, but that was the moment when people said, 'Holy shit, them crazy bastards did it.' Then sixty plus years later a human set foot on a surface not of our world.

Thankfully, the world wasn't content resting on its laurels and in the nineteen eighties, a man no one thought would win, grabbed a world-changing victory. It was then that U.S. president Gary Hart proclaimed his intention to create a colony on Mars. People laughed and jeered at his insanity, but thanks to a few well-timed inventions, one such creation called the Space Shuttle, and his amazing diplomatic skills, humanity landed on the Red Planet within fifteen years of his announcement.

It was recorded that Hart spent the entirety of his two terms negotiating for two things, world peace, and rights to any technology he could use to further the space program. Even after he left office, President Hart kept closely connected to NASA and was one of the first colonists on Mars. He was credited with being responsible for the creation of the first generational ships with the intended goal of reaching another star system. Technically, he didn't create anything, but like all good politicians he made sure his name was immortal.

Of course, I hadn't been there for any of it. Hell, not even my great-grandfather had been born yet, but as I grew up, I began learning those fantastical stories. For years they bounced around my young mind until all I wanted to do was travel the space lanes. I mean, I lived in an explored universe, but back then, those first ships weren't even expected to make it to another system within several lifetimes, but even still the first explorers bravely boarded those huge ships and let themselves be shot off into space taking those necessary first steps.

According to the history books, and contradicted by conspiracy theorists across the Federated Union, over two hundred hundred ships carrying one million people slowly disappeared into the deep darkness of space. Some made it to their destinations, some were found after the faster-than-light drive was invented, and some were lost to the ages. Even after six hundred years, there were still reports of ships being discovered. Personally, if I were one of those crews, I would've wanted to stay lost.

Now, to be fair, the Federated Union was the envy of the explored galaxy, and as a citizen, the perks were nothing short of utopian, unless you were like me.

See, the thing they don't say in the publicity vids is, not everyone is living the life. People like me, people who lived on the fringe worlds, still lived as humans did back before the generational ships left. We were called pioneers, frontiersmen, or some other benign bullshit that meant poor. Dad, when I was younger, had said it was because frontier worlds ran on precious minerals instead of Federated credits. Well, technically, that wasn't exactly true. In a Federated world, the legal currency was credits and everyone was supposed to use credits, but not everyone did, especially if they didn't want the Union to know what they were doing.

Because we were so far out, we got a legitimate starship once maybe twice a year and anyone could use those to get back to the inner worlds. The problem was that damn near everyone wanted to leave so you had to get on a list. That created its own issues. Getting off of a frontier planet without joining the Union's space fleet was damn near impossible... unless you had precious metals that you could barter with, then you could hire a 'contractor' to take you. Even odds whether you'd make it, but when you had no other choice you took the chance.

Or, if you were really desperate you could take a work contract.

Work contracts were open to anyone with the skills to fulfill them, but honestly, while they did get you off of whatever planet you were on, they were tantamount to indentured servitude. I mean, what else would you call it? You were contracted for so many years, usually five, but then they charged you for everything. From the passage to the work site to the pillow you laid your head on at night and everything in between. By the time you caught up with what you owed the company, you were ten years into a five-year contract. Of course, they wouldn't just wish you a merry life and let you leave, you had to pay for your passage. And since you were usually on another frontier planet... well, you get the drift.

I had an uncle one time take a contract and by the time he finally keeled over, still on the job at a hundred and ten, he racked up so much debt they forced his eighty-year-old wife to take over his debt. She got the last laugh though as she died a few months after him, but from what Dad said, they lived high on the company dime. It was stories like that and the desperate need to go somewhere other than the factory I'd been working in since I turned fifteen that made me do it. That and the hope for a better life.

The contract notice was simple and seemed straightforward. They never were, but it seemed like it.

'Are you tired of the same old humdrum lifestyle?' Yes. 'Are you ready for a life full of purpose?' Double yes. 'Are you the kind of person who wakes up in the morning and yearns for an adventure on an unspoiled planet?' Fuck yeah. 'If you answered Yes to any of these questions then contact New Frontiers. Get paid for living the life others can only dream.' And then in smaller print. 'Marriage arrangement for those interested.'

I thought about it for a long time and while I wasn't raised in a culture that participated in arranged marriages, I wasn't opposed to it. Honestly, at thirty-four I was lonely and horny, and having a woman just given to me bounced around my mind more than it should've. I mean, I wasn't a bad-looking guy, and I dated, but could find a woman to love. Not in any kind of real way and as I celebrated my thirty-fourth birthday, I realized, I had never been so desperate in my life. So desperate that the thought of moving more than ten light-years away from the planet of my birth just for the chance at both a good job and love seemed not only reasonable but also like my only option. And that's the mindset I was in one late night after a long day and staring at another week of long days when I came across the ad. Before I knew it, I found myself downing beers and filling out paperwork instead of making a snarky comment and swiping to one of my favorite porn vids.

I woke up the next morning, head pounding and having completely forgotten about the application. For two months, I went about my life and, for two months I grew more and more depressed until one day I returned home and found a message from a man named Creed Wilson. A pleasant sort of man who was a bit crude and laughed at his own jokes more than any man should, but he was smooth, and, again, before I realized what was happening, I was in a doctor's office getting a physical. After I was physically cleared for the position, he set me up with the New Frontiers computer psychologist. For another three months, the psychologist would pop up randomly and we'd talk.

We talked about my family, my life, why I wanted to leave, and if I thought I could live mostly alone for most of the year. I mean, I'd have comm access because it would've been a safety issue and therefore illegal to leave me without a functioning comm unit. I guess I passed his tests because, after the third month of the computer Doc, Creed contacted me with a job offer. It was the standard offer everyone got. Five years on the planet of their choice working at the job they chose. He asked if I had any questions and I asked about the pay. He gave me a number and said it was equal to other jobs of the like. I froze knowing that was bullshit. It was the first time I played hardball with him. I refused to sign up for anything less than sixty thousand credits a year. He laughed, but I held firm. We both knew that wasn't even high for what he was offering.

Negotiations were a bit rough and I started to see his true nature as he threatened and growled, but I stood firm and told him, that if he wanted me then he could either, give me the credits I wanted or the company could cover my passage and any other company fee I incurred while employed. Honestly, I wasn't surprised when he disconnected. I was surprised though when he called back a week later. I should've realized his return call on my outlandish request meant the job sucked more than my current one, but when he said they'd split the difference between what I wanted and what they were offering, and for that, they would cover all of my expenses from my current home to my new one, I thought I had hit the jackpot. I said that was acceptable, but then asked about the marriage part. He smirked was disturbing.

"Don't worry, once you're in transit, I'll send you the questionnaire. We'll use that to find you the perfect match and you'll be on your way to a long and happy marriage. Just so you know, we're limited to who is participating in the program. Don't be expecting some model or something like that, and we don't promise she'll be everything you're looking for, but we'll get her as close as we're legally obligated to."

That worried me and so for a week, I considered his offer. Honestly, when it came down to it, no matter what, the offer was almost twice what I was making at home so I called him and said yes. Lucky for me, the transport with other guys taking similar jobs on the same planet was relatively nearby. Of course, relative in space means something much different than it does on a planet, but within two days, I was hugging my family as they saw me off at the spaceport.

Excitement flooded my body and the smile was threatening to rip my face in two. That ended quick as I boarded and got ripped a new one by the captain. Apparently, he had to backtrack, which cost him credits, to pick me up, and after he finished his tirade, the First Officer said I'd better stay in my cabin and only leave for food until he cooled off. Like an idiot, I tried to apologize, but when I said, "I mean, you're getting paid to pick me up so I'm not sure why you're upset," he tried to attack me. After that, I did as asked and hid.

I'd love to say it was thrilling, and it was since I'd never been off the planet before, but to be honest, except for that and the captain taking a poke at me, it was a fairly boring trip. I mean, I don't know if you've ever been off-planet, but on the vids, they showed this glorious smeared rainbow that looked amazing, but in reality, it was just an endless nothing. At least that's all I saw. One of my bunk mates, one of the guys who were traveling to the planet with me Alejandro, said it was because of the speed we were traveling. He said once we moved faster than light, there simply wasn't anything to see.

At least I got my meals for free, but even that was a disappointment. Not only was there a limited amount, but it was also bland food. The topper on the cake was the one vid channel we were given for entertainment. I don't think that would've been that bad if they hadn't played the same six movies on a continuous loop. By the time we landed on Kricker 5, I was quoting those damn movies in my sleep.

Thankfully we had our training, which was easy to learn and as repetitive as the damn movies. It was the same question just structured in different ways. And the answer was exactly the same. Find the problem, send in a diagnostics drone to scan the problem, and then send in the repair drones to fix the problem. I was amazed when a couple of the other guys had trouble with the lessons or the quizzes at the end, but they did, time and again until they began wondering if Alejandro and I were geniuses. We didn't dissuade them from that thought. It helped that Alejandro was like me in that he enjoyed reading in his quiet time. The problem was, he liked reading the tech manuals while I just liked to read regular books.

And of course, that's why the corporation needed people like us. They didn't need scientists and they didn't need engineers, what they did need was people who could learn. And that's what we did, we learned about the alerts we would most likely encounter. Anything outside of the alerts they taught us, took specialized skills and on those, we learned to keep the stations from exploding until help arrived. There were a few days of gallows humor to keep us from really thinking about those kinds of days.

Then, once we'd blown, no pun intended, through the training, we found other ways of amusing ourselves. For a month, I grew closer to the group of men that I'd spend the next five years with as we played multiple games of cards and damn near mastered every board game we could find. Another thankful moment came when the questionnaires arrived. I wasn't the youngest guy and I wasn't the oldest, but it didn't matter because we had all turned into teenagers as we laughed and joked and dreamed about our soon-to-be matches. We all imagined big tits, thick asses, taut young bodies, and the tightest pussies this side of heaven. And of course, they all look like our favorite vid stars.

Finally, after we were about to go insane from the close quarters, and the smells of badly functioning air scrubbers, we landed on our new home.

Kricker was a ten-planet system that orbited a set of binary stars on the edge of Federated space in the newly expanded part of space. Luckily, we were in a part of the sector that had no value to anyone other than the Union. There was safety in being an unimportant planet that had little value except as a source of water to other colony worlds. Not to say water had no value, but more and more systems were becoming self-sufficient in that area so water producers weren't as needed as much.

They were still needed for places like my home planet where the water of our world wasn't as plentiful as was on other planets, or for planets that hadn't been terraformed enough to drink their own water. Another reason I was hired, the company said was that I was more likely to work harder knowing we were supplying my home world with water.

As we dropped to below light speed, we were finally able to see something out of our windows. That first sight of the binary stars was almost worth it all the shit we had to live through just to get to our new home.

"Well, that explains why they only have two seasons, Summer and Winter." my new friend Alejandro said, "Warm when we're close to the stars and cool when we're not."

"No Fall or Spring," Carl, another new buddy, asked.

Alejandro shook his head. "Actually, only Fall and Spring. If it weren't for the indigenous life the Federated Union would already have a resort here. From what I've read, it took a special dispensation from the Union's Environmental Agency for New Frontiers to set up here."

"So we live in paradise," another new friend, Dave, said happily.

"For most of the year, but between each season we'll have a month of heavy rain. The waves during that time are stronger and enough to damage the machinery, that's usually when the bi-annual maintenance is done."

Alejandro absorbed the information in the tech manuals better than me, but where I was able to give short succinct answers, Alejandro's answers were too in-depth. His scores were almost the same as Dave and Carl, our low scorers, just because the computer thought his long detailed answers, which were technically correct, were wrong. I made sure all the guys passed the tests, the three of us made sure Alejandro had fun, and he provided us with endless trivia about things we never asked. Like for example, our new planet.

Even with his warnings, I wasn't prepared for a planet with a rainy season. Granted, it only happened for a month twice a year, but I came from a desert planet so while I did enjoy the downpour for a few moments, I was over before I got out of the landing port.

"This is like walking through soup," I complained.

The others nodded and kept walking. I ughed and pulled at my clothes which had suctioned themselves to my body instantly. I spent the entire walk to the New Frontiers offices in misery.

Although, walking through the town did remind me of a school report I'd done. In eighth grade, we had begun studying the ancient periods of Federated planets, and I was assigned to the oldest period, the 'Wild West' of Earth. I read dozens of books, watched hundreds of vid clips, and even signed up for the Federated Planets Historical Society website. Everything I learned said the same thing, the streets were muddy, the businesses were dirty, and the people looked miserable and bored. As I made my way toward the offices of my new employer, that's where I thought I'd landed. Just looking around, I couldn't fathom being any more uncomfortable or disappointed in the choices I had made. Then I met the planetary supervisor.

The planet's supervisor, and the man who interviewed me, was Creed Wilson. A pot-bellied bureaucrat, and tin-pot dictator, who loved to throw his weight around, even when unnecessary. Everyone knew he was in charge and within moments, he made sure we knew disobedience came with consequences.

On the comm units he had been a bit smarmy, a little inappropriate, and laughed too loudly at his own jokes. He was an ass, but I had thought it was in that kind of way that would allow me to sit down and drink with the man. Within seconds of meeting him, I knew that would never happen. And it wasn't just his personality, it was everything about him. On a normal day, I wasn't fond of people who looked and smelled as if they didn't bathe on a regular basis.

His shirt was dirty, his hair was slick with his own oils, and his stench just about knocked me down when we entered the small offices. His hand was both clammy and sticky and I couldn't help wiping my own on my pants after shaking his. As I stared, all I could think was, how does the planet's corporate leader look like a back alley porn distributor? I didn't know, but despite his personal lack of hygiene, I think what put me off about him the most was the woman who worked for him.

She looked like she should be getting ready to graduate high school, not parading around in barely there clothes letting some nasty old man pat and grope her bottom. I don't know what was worse, how young she looked, or how bored she looked as Creed felt her up in front of strangers. It was as if she knew she was his property and had resigned herself to her life of servicing him.

Now, I would've thought a man of his importance would've lived in luxury, or at least had an opulent office, but for reasons that escaped me, the small room looked run down and in desperate need of cleaning. Insanely, all he seemed to care about was that we knew he was the boss and an uncaring one at that. He never moved from his chair, his taped-up throne, as we tried to introduce ourselves. The moment we tried, he just threw a thumb at a big electronic map on the wall behind him and talked over us.

"See the green dots off the coast? That's where you all will be working." He got out a four-pack of green data chips. "You are now Greens One through Four based on your test scores in training." He handed me One, Alejandro two, Dave three, and Carl four. "Those are your designations and what you'll use to identify yourselves when you call in."