That night, Robin dreamt of Utopia again.
It was exactly the same dream again; looking out his window at Utopia below him, then walking down the main corridor of his ship; then entering the bridge. It always ended before he could sit down in his Captain’s chair.
This time, he prepared for going outside when he woke. He slipped quietly into his protective suit, and placed his hat onto his dark hazel hair.
Is this a good idea?
Yes, it is, actually.
Opening the back doors once again, Robin Fox stepped onto the porch landing, the wood creaking under his boots. Slowly this time, he edged forward to go down the steps and onto the mud.
Almost nothing lived in the soil. Apirath was one of Utopia’s largest moons; almost a sixteenth of the size of the planet itself; but it was also one of the furthest away. Millions of miles of empty space stretched between Robin and his dream. To him, the distance was simply incomprehensible. Utopia was right there; just in the sky there. He could simply reach out and touch it. Grab it, hold it close to him. But he couldn’t set foot there.
The only memory of his father he had was that of him telling Robin of Utopia, and the Utopia Guardianship.
‘What is the Guardianship, Father?’
A look of pride and wonderment came on his father’s features as he replied. ‘The Utopia Guardianship is the finest, greatest, most noble fighting force in the whole Universe. You would be darned lucky to be part of that.’
‘Can we go and see them? Do they have big ships?’ Robin exclaimed excitedly.
His father chuckled. ‘They have the largest fleet of ships in the Universe; small jet fighters, bombers, Mission Ships. And their specially made Naval Space Vessels are legendary.’
‘So can we go?’
‘No, Robin, we have you to look after! We have a home, a life. The Guardianship is a place for wanderers, adventurers. Someday, when you’ve left all this behind, you can become an adventurer if you like,’ he smiled, and kissed Robin on the top of his dark hazel hair.
To Robin, that seemed like the greatest adventure he could ever know; being part of the Utopia Guardianship. He stubbed the toe of his boot into the acid sodden mud in anger.
To his mother, the Utopia Guardianship’s name was mud.
Her own father had been part of the Guardianship; and died fighting under their guard. Robin knew that was the reason she forbid him to ever leave Apirath. She didn’t want him to have that adventure. She wanted him to stay at home and be a good boy; picking the fruits and barley every harvest in their greenhouse, fixing things when they broke down, fetching things from the market every Saturday.
Robin’s house was opposite a small lake, nestled in the hills. Stretching out across the lake from his house was a wooden jetty; coated, obviously, in acid proof paint, as was everything around here.
He took slow, deliberate steps through the silent mud as he gazed upward, the breath being knocked out of his body. A familiar fire blossomed from his heart, blazing all the way down to his fingertips as he stared up at the planet that was always in his head.
How will I ever get there?
Robin winced; a drop of rain had landed on his hand. He raised his hand up to his eyes, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the sky. On one of his knuckles there was now a small red burn.
Apirath was a mining moon; it was where Utopia got the energy for ships from. Due to all the gases and fumes being pumped into Apirath’s atmosphere, it rained constantly and the rain was extremely acidic.
Robin was never sure whether the miners knew he and his mother lived here.
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his protective suit and trudged through the mud towards the jetty. All the while he stared up into the sky, not knowing how he would return to the house.
Robin both adored and detested his own house; it was lovely and old, and he loved old things. It was made of a beautiful dark red cedar, with big wide rooms and tiny cubby holes. He didn’t like the tiny windows, however; it made him feel even more like a prisoner.
But he detested his house for the exact reason he loved it; it was old. Every day, without fail, something would break. A window would smash under the strain of all of the badly built wood above it; beams would collapse in the roof, tables crack, walls split. Robin wasn’t sure how much longer it would be until the house completely collapsed.
So he was terrified of ever leaving the house, in case his mother was trapped inside; but he was also terrified to be under its unstable roof.
Robin walked slowly down the jetty, the wood creaking softly under his boots.
He sat down on the edge of it, swinging his legs over the gloopy green surface of the lake.
Dreams don’t come true.
Suddenly he felt something peculiar in his pocket; he pulled it out. It was a tiny old radio, with little dials and quaint wooden panelling on its face.
Robin loved radios; like proper old radios. Ones that crackled like an evening fire on a winter night. He found them fascinating. He loved how you could turn a dial and hear someone halfway across the galaxy talking about something you never knew existed. Rarely would Robin listen to any music, he preferred the talking.
Twisting the tuning dial with an expert hand, Robin flicked his gaze back to the planet above him in the sky and scowled.
‘-and of course, you’re on missions all year round?’
Robin glanced back at the radio in his hands, cautiously optimistic.
‘Yes, almost every week we get a new one in.’
‘And what kind of missions do you lead, General?’
Robin couldn’t believe his luck- it just had to be the Guardianship they were talking about. And a General!
‘Well, I can’t say much,’ the General chuckled. ‘But it’s incidents where the First Battalion or Squadrons aren’t needed, and perhaps a fair bit of diplomacy. Mostly on other planets or moons, although sometimes we have missions on Utopia herself.’
Robin drew in his breath.
The interviewer seemed just as awed as Robin was. ‘Just to remind our listeners, General, how is the Utopia Guardianship structured?’
Robin knew the ranks and groups off by heart, of course, but it was fantastic to hear it from a General. A real General!
‘The Guardianship is split into five Squadrons and five Battalions. The Squadrons are mainly used for flight, battles, politics and reconnaissance in space, and the Battalions are used for all that on the ground. Although they swap sometimes,’ the General gave another chuckle, as if laughing at a private joke. He coughed and recovered himself. ‘The Squadrons are called Battle, Mission, Medic, Rescue and Special Operations. Battalions are called First, Second, Third, Fourth and SO.’
‘Right, so the Squadrons and Battalions are basically counterparts of each other?’
‘Yes, that’s right. And then each Squadron has fifty Sectors, and each Battalion has seventy.’
‘So the Battalions are bigger?’
‘Yes, they have to be, as they are the primary force behind our fighting on the ground.’
‘And you’re a General, so you’re in charge of a Sector?’
‘Yes, I’m the head of Sector 23, Mission Squadron.’
Robin, beaming, looked up once more at Utopia. It was so refreshing to hear the words that spun round his brain so often from the mouth of someone else; a General even.
‘Well your day job sounds very unusual, if I do say so myself, General!’ the interviewer guffawed.
‘Yes, it can be quite eventful!’ the General chuckled.
Robin somehow got the feeling the General was simply toying with the interviewer. The way he just accepted anything he said, agreed with everything. There was something not entirely right about it; but Robin brushed that aside.
‘One final question, General. What would you say to young people out there who want to be part of the Guardianship?’
There was a thoughtful pause and Robin held his breath.
‘The best thing to do is get out there and see it all for yourself. Even if you’re not a Cadet yet, see the shipyards and docking. Go and look at Battalion Aid, craft hangers and anything else. If there’s a mission taking place that you know of, see if you can go and help. We always say in the Guardianship that how you get to know something is by experiencing it.’
A high pitched whining noise filled Robin’s head and he automatically flung his hands up to cover his ears, the radio sliding off his lap and into the murky sludge below. Trying to pinpoint where the horrible noise was coming from, he twisted round to look back at the house.
Just as he caught sight of the house from the corner of his eye, the whine suddenly erupted in his ears and suddenly a huge fireball cascaded toward him. Robin barely had time to give a hoarse gasp of horror before the angry red fire engulfed him.
