Chapter Text
It seemed strange that one could find beauty in such devastation. The world lay in pieces, fallen like simple dominos, on ground saturated with flood waters that may never fully recede. There was dirty brown where green should be, and grey clouds were visible where a scaling cityscape had been. It was cold, colder than it would normally be this time of year, but there was no normal here anymore. Everything was broken. The cities, the forests, the sky, the ocean, the weather, all of it, broken.
Humanity itself was broken. The population of this once magnificent city all but wiped out. The signs and smells of the dead were everywhere, a reminder that it wasn't only infrastructure that was lost. It wasn't only trees, and animals, and crumbled mountains that had been taken. Earth's people were hanging on by a thin thread.
Still, there were some things that clung to life, fighting to reach the light. Bobbie Draper's gaze was fixed on one such thing. She observed with parted lips a tall tree towering through debris. Limbs torn from its trunk, leaves strewn about, it refused to fall. Despite the fact that every other tree around it collapsed under the impact of concrete, this one stood. It was surrounded by mangled chunks of wall and road. Pieces of rebar were driven into the base of the tree, but it stayed strong.
Something seemed regal about it. Bobbie knew somehow that this tree had a long life left ahead of it, almost as if she could sense its will to survive. It was strange, indeed, such a beautiful thing in the midst of all this. Just a tree to most, but to the Martian, a rare thing.
Taking in and releasing a slow breath, Bobbie centered herself, squaring her shoulders against the invisible force that always seemed to be pushing down on her here. She drew her attention from the tree to the badly damaged building far beyond it. It's iconic walls of windows were completely smashed and the entire north side was missing. Even from almost a mile away it was obvious it was hopeless to think of repairing it, much like the rest of Manhattan Island.
Looking around, Bobbie watched as her team assembled. It was their fifth morning waking up on Earth's surface. It was supposed to be a two day trip, three at the most. They hadn't expected how limited their movement would be. Unable to use vehicles and helicopters constantly frustrated by the changing weather conditions, the team had been forced to hike through the crippled urban jungle. The Martian leader that only brought three gravity sickness pills. Now, every hour was a fight to maintain a strong exterior. She remembered people telling her she'd get used to it the first time she was on Earth. Though the sensations faded, they were never fully gone.
They were one team of twenty when they arrived. Upon realizing how difficult it would be to complete their assignment, Bobbie made the command decision to split up. Four teams of five went in four different directions with Bobbie's team heading to their ultimate goal - the United Nations Building.
Their objective was to assess the state of the UN's headquarters, and the surrounding areas, from the ground. Even with all the satellite intel and feedback from people already there, the Secretary-General had insisted on having her own security team take a look in person. Bobbie had argued, reasoning that it was a waste of time and resources and they had more important things to focus on, but the Secretary-General wouldn't let it go. After days of heated debate, the UNSG had outright ordered Bobbie to take a team down to the surface.
Much to her annoyance, they'd quickly discovered there was nowhere to land a transport near the building, or anywhere in Manhattan for that matter. She and her team had been forced to walk from someplace called Newark, and of course it wasn't a straight shot. They had been forced to meander, avoiding residual flooding and mountains of debris. Finally, just after dark on the third night, they arrived at a refugee camp at the tip of Manhattan, freezing cold and starving.
The camp was a chilling sight. Filled with too many people and not nearly enough resources, the volunteers and space were stretched to the max. Bobbie had never seen such a sad thing. The defeat, fear, and depression was evident on every face. Not to mention, they had to contend with the mounting body count and no place to lay the dead to rest. It was horrific with no relief in sight. It was the third camp that Bobbie and her group had seen like this and, from what her other three teams had said via their daily radio check ins, it was just as bad all over. She was anxious to complete the assignment and get the hell out of here and back to her charge.
Her four companions gathered with her after packing up their gear.
"Everyone get some shut eye?" Bobbie asked, looking at each of them. A couple of nods and a couple of groans was the response she received. "Yeah, me too," she replied. "Let's get on with it."
They walked towards the building. Bobbie kept her eyes open for the engineering team she was supposed to meet there, knowing full well they might not be gone. After all, she was days behind.
The closer they drew to the building, the quicker Bobbie's steps were. She resented being here, and was anxious to get in and get out. This wasn't her job. As head of the SG's personal security team, her job was the SG's safety, and she certainly wasn't keeping anyone safe hundreds of thousands of miles away from Luna. She shouldn't be surprised. If the Secretary-General hadn't ordered her to go, she knew she would have given in eventually.
It was her own fault. Bobbie had asked for the post. UN security was left in tatters after the attack. The group trained especially for the SG had all been killed when Goa's plane went down. Another large percentage died on the surface. Though a huge contingent of agents was on Luna, they were less trained and functioned less connected to Earth's security team. Bobbie had seen the security issue immediately when she arrived on Luna after the attack. Always feeling a strong sense of loyalty and devotion to the Secretary-General, Bobbie instantly stepped up, asking if she could be responsible for pulling security together again.
Up to that point, it had been General Delgado who had taken over security after the attack. Despite his misgivings about a Martian heading up UN security, he was forced to yield to the fact that he simply couldn't handle the workload in lue of the attack, not to mention the Secretary-General gave a glowing recommendation. Bobbie had been quickly confirmed by what was currently passing for a parliament.
Her first priority has been recruitment, finding people who were eager and able to serve. In the wake of the attack on Earth, there was no shortage of people who wanted to do their part to protect Earth. On the other hand, Bobbie was constantly on high alert for anyone who would use the current chaotic state of the government to infiltrate its highest security ranks. As a result, the vetting process was taking a long time. She told herself the caution would pay off in the long run. The Secretary-General agreed. It had only been a couple of months, but Bobbie had already managed to begin recreating some semblance of a tight and regimented team.
She'd brought twenty of them to Earth's surface almost a week ago and she regretted it every day since they landed. Even now as they approached the remnants of the United Nations Building, Bobbie knew this entire endeavor was for not.
Yellow caution tape, along with strategically placed construction barriers ran the length of the building's foot. The structural damage was evident from outside. There was no way the interior was sound. Bobbie and her group looked around, taking it all in. She saw them from the corner of her eye taking out their handhelds to record and take notes of everything around them, as she had instructed them to do when they saw anything noteworthy.
As they came close to what used to be the plaza leading to the primary entrance, two men in cold weather gear with UN armbands came out to meet them.
"Agent Draper?" One of them called out.
Slightly raising her hand as they drew nearer, Bobbie said back, "That's me."
"'Bout time." He was clearly irritated. She didn't blame him. They were very late.
"I apologize for the delay," she said. "We had to land in Newark."
Surprised, he responded, "It's that bad?"
Bobbie only nodded. She was tired and ready to get this over with. "Show me." She looked toward the degredated skyscraper.
At that, the man looked at his teammate. Solemnly, he told her, "I don't know what the Sec Gen was hoping for, but she won't find it here."
"I'll determine that, if you don't mind." Bobbie was firm and they begrudgingly began to move back toward the building.
The group began what amounted to a tour of devastation. Every window shattered from the force of the shockwave that swept across the region at impact. A massive fissure crack ran the length of the lobby and evidently most of the length of the foundation. The center walls were already buckling, observable by the ceiling sagging toward the middle of the building.
"My god." One of their companions said in a hushed tone.
Entering a stairwell, they explored the lower floors. Room after room, floor after floor was the same. Broken windows, cracked walls, and the elements coming in. It wasn't safe for them to be here.
Looking at the engineers, Bobbie asked, "Will it come down?"
Hesitant to admit it and understanding the weight of the diagnosis, the lead engineer answered, "Even if the circumstances were normal, there's nothing that can be done to save her. She'll have to be brought down just to make the area safe."
Bobbie sighed deeply. She had only spent a short time in this place, what seemed like a lifetime ago, but even in her abbreviated stay, she had gathered that this building was special. It held centuries of history. Many of the greatest politicians, diplomats, and leaders of Earth had walked these halls, her Secretary-General among them. However, it was obvious there was nothing to be done. It was time to move on, not for Bobbie, but for her charge.
"Alright then." She looked at the two engineers. "Let's cordon off a perimeter for safety and leave it be."
The team prepared to carry out the last task of their objective while Bobbie made her way apart from the group. Finding a lonely corner in the rubble, she pulled out her handheld and tapped.
"Message the Old Lady." She quickly added, "Voice only," not wanting the woman to see anything in the background that would further sadden her. The device beeped, ready to record. "Ma'am, we made it to the UN tower. It's not good. I'm sorry to say it, but the rebuilding effort cannot start here like you'd hoped, not anywhere in New York for that matter. This place is too far gone." She schooled her words, not meaning to lack empathy, but too tired to be gentle. "My team needs to regroup and head back to Luna. There's nothing more we can do here."
She wanted to say more, but what else was there? With an exhausted exhale, Bobbie tapped the button to send the message. She closed her eyes, suddenly hating that she couldn't give good news. The Secretary-General had dealt with far too much bad news.
Pulling her coat as tightly around her as she could, Bobbie breathed in, filling her lunges and hoping the oxygen would help clear the wooziness from her mind. The gravity was getting to her.
*******************
Five days later
Bobbie walked smartly through the corridors of Luna. Her first days there had been confusing, attempting to navigate the massive place. Of all people on the lunar satellite, the Martian should have been the most comfortable being underground. But Luna was far different from Mariner Valley on Mars.
The subterranean structures on Mars had to be built with as few resources as possible. This meant shaping much of its infrastructure into the planet itself. It resulted in a unique movement to each building. They flowed into and out of the gigantic underground caverns. Not a single hallway or chamber was made in a straight line. They bent and curved and raised and fell with the natural line of the planet. That's what Bobbie was used to, organized chaos.
On Luna, every passage looked the same. Every conference hall, every walkway, every open plaza looked similar to the last. It was a sterile and rigid design. Most of the substructures were built like a grid. If you accidentally stepped onto the wrong floor, you might not realize it for quite some time if you weren't paying attention. It had been disorienting at first. Bobbie had spent far too much time second guessing what direction she was going.
She'd adjusted quickly, studying maps and 3D graphics, trying to learn the layout. Now, she moved easily, getting around as well as any Earther who'd been there for years.
After arriving back on Luna, Bobbie had a short night's sleep, and was on her way to the Secretary-General's apartment. Though she hadn't slept as long as she would have preferred, it was the best sleep she'd gotten in almost two weeks. She was grateful to be back on the moon and out from under Earth's oppressive gravity. Even more so, she was glad to get back to work. Or maybe she was simply glad to get back to the Secretary-General.
Coming close to the last turn in the hallway that would take her to the right apartment, Bobbie perked up. They better be there, she thought, and they better be alert. Rounding the corner, she came in view of two security agents outside an apartment door. One was next to the door, the other a few meters down on the other side of the hall. They were both poised for movement, just in a case. Strategic positioning for two partners, just like they'd been trained. Good.
"Agent Draper," greeted the man near the door.
"Morning," she said back, attempting to form a cordial expression. She glanced at the agent down the hall. He simply nodded toward her. Bobbie knew that guy. He didn't like her, one of the few who disapproved of being trained by a Martian. She didn't care what he thought about her as long as he did his job, so she nodded back.
"Good to have you back," the agent at the door said.
Bobbie stopped short at that. She looked at him quizzically, trying to determine if he meant it. "Thank you," she replied. "It's good to be back."
He gave an upbeat grin and Bobbie couldn't help thinking she'd just had the first almost normal coworker exchange in her life. She pulled out her handheld and reached it towards the lock on the door. She'd had a key almost immediately after she'd arrived on Luna. The lock clicked open and Bobbie went inside the apartment.
She entered slowly, always wanting to respect the woman's privacy, even though she had told her she would be there about this time. With cautious steps, Bobbie came into the living room. Her ears caught the sound of movement from the bedroom down the hall.
"Ma'am," she called. "I'm here."
A most familiar and deep accent floated from the room. "I'm almost finished."
Bobbie's lips quirked a bit, knowing her charge's affinity for looking perfect before anyone saw her. Bobbie couldn't imagine her looking anything other than perfect, and she'd seen the woman with no makeup and morning hair. She had been privy to many sides of the Secretary-General others hadn't, even before she carried that title.
Making her way to the kitchen, Bobbie immediately began scrounging for food. There wasn't much in her own apartment, especially after her ten day trip. Her hands instinctively went to where she knew there was a special supply just for her. Opening a cabinet, she found her snacks. Bobbie snatched up an apple and a chocolate protein bar, taking a quick bite from the fruit and setting them down on the kitchen counter. She didn't know if she'd ever get used to how the same food tasted different from one planet to another. Every apple from Earth seemed like the sweetest she'd ever tasted as opposed to the more dull ones on Mars. However, Luna's supply was dwindling and unable to be replenished. Bobbie chewed slower, savoring the bite a little more.
"Bobbie."
Turning, the former Marine swallowed quickly, coming face to face with her charge. Chrisjen Avasarala, in a purple sari, laced with gold, hair impeccable, and smiling at her. She inhaled deeply to recover the air stolen from her lungs at the sight she had missed for too many days.
She returned the grin. "Ma'am," she said. "It's good to see you."
Just then, a dizziness set upon her, blurring her vision momentarily. She reached out to touch the edge of the counter for balance. Slowly closing her eyes, Bobbie sucked in deep breaths and waited for her head to stop spinning.
"Bobbie?" Chrisjen took several concerned steps closer.
Once she was able to open her eyes, Bobbie kept her gaze to the floor and turned toward the nearby window. She remembered the lesson she learned from her first time on Earth. Look at the floor, then slowly look up to the horizon. Lifting her eyes an inch at a time until she was looking from the floor, up the wall, out the window, across Luna's dusty, grey surface, and out to the lunar horizon.
"I'm fine," Bobbie breathed out. "Just some residual gravity sickness." She tried to sound confident, but knew her tone was thin. "Just need to steady myself for a sec," she said, gaze fixed on the thin outline of the moon's curve.
Chrisjen inquired, "I thought you took the pills with you."
"It was supposed to be a short trip," Bobbie explained, hoping she didn't sound bitter. "I only had a few."
As she looked out, the feeling began to pass. The cloudiness was leaving her brain and the dizzy sensation started fading. Just as she was about to turn around, Bobbie felt slender but sure arms slip around her waist from behind. She stifled the slight gasp that tried to escape her throat.
"I can steady you," Chrisjen said quietly, cheek against the back of Bobbie's shoulder.
Then, Bobbie closed her eyes again, not because she was dizzy, but because this was one of the moments. It was one of the moments she lived for. They were few and far between, and they were precious beyond measure, the moments when she and Chrisjen connected on a level all their own and they were the only two people that existed.
Bobbie lifted her hands to cover the small ones around her torso. She tilted her head slightly to the side and enjoyed the feel of Chrisjen's warmth.
"Yes, you can," Bobbie replied softly, allowing some of her weight to lean back into the shorter woman.
They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, each one soaking in the solace the other offered. Soon, Chrisjen's thumb was stroking over the fabric of Bobbie's suit jacket at her hip. It was so comforting and so distracting at the same time. The woozy feeling had passed, but she wasn't inclined to let the moment go yet.
Turning in Chrisjen's arms, Bobbie pulled her into a tight embrace. Chrisjen returned it and both women were wrapped around one another. Exhaling as silently as possible, the Martian did her best to hide her racing heart at being this close to Chrisjen. It seemed as though her true feelings were always a touch away from spilling over and she would be devastated to lose this relationship if Chrisjen ever found out.
So Bobbie lived in moments like these. She would steal every soft second that Chrisjen was willing to give her, and she would do her best to forget how perfectly the woman's head fit against her shoulder when they parted.
"I'm so sorry, Chrisjen," Bobbie whispered.
"None of this is your fault."
Ignoring the statement, Bobbie continued, lips against Chrisjen's hair. "I'm sorry about Earth. I'm sorry about Arjun. I'm sorry I wasn't here."
Chrisjen pulled back to look at her, disbelieving. Expression turning to compassion, she lifted her hands to Bobbie's face. "You saved millions of lives out there. I wouldn't change that." Bobbie gave a tight nod, resisting the temptation to press a kiss at Chrisjen's palm. "And you're here now."
When the woman offered her the smallest smile, Bobbie sighed. She always knew what to say. "Thank you."
"No." Chrisjen finally released her. "Thank you."
She stepped back, turning to get something from the table nearby and Bobbie extended her arm, fingertips maintaining contact until the last possible second when Chrisjen slipped too far away to touch. And then the moment was over.
Gathering her handheld and a couple other small items, Chrisjen looked at her warmly. "Come," she said, "we need to get you to your briefing."
Bobbie came alongside her and they headed for the door.
********************
In a large conference room, Chrisjen's cabinet, as well as military officials, aides, and other advisors were assembled. This large group had been looking forward to a direct report from the surface and had been hanging on Bobbie's every word. She had spent much of her first night back putting together an extensive report. Scrolling through imagery her team had gathered, she observed the wide range of emotions on the faces before her.
Everyone seemed optimistic as Bobbie first began her presentation, some even eager. However, it didn't take long for hopeful expressions to fade. As Bobbie swiped through photographs and videos of broken skyscrapers, unnatural snow storms, and overcrowded shelters the desolation became more and more evident. Then, the video she knew would be torturous came up.
"With the body count rising," Bobbie told them somberly, "and the lack of resources and manpower, the citizens of Earth have been left to gather the dead and simply leave them in mass graves above ground."
A silent video played with image after image after image of the dead piled up, sometimes covered, sometimes not. What else could be done? They had nothing to dig with, and in the cities, they were unable to get through the rubble or even find ground to dig.
"Some were…" Bobbie hesitated for the first time during her report. A memory of the smell came to her. Swallowing thickly, she continued. "Some were able to be burned, but not every shelter area has that capability. Unfortunately, many of the dead are unable to be recovered and have simply been left where they fell."
She flipped quickly through the remaining images on the gruesome topic, moving on to UN Tower. As she spoke, Bobbie kept her gaze flitting around the room, measuring the responses of her listeners. Most faces morphed from one emotion to another. Some of the older military types were able to hold their countenance unreadable, though Bobbie could see the effort it was taking.
Only one person remained unchanging throughout her talk. The Secretary-General sat stoic and unmoving. She hadn't asked a single question or made a single comment, nor had she even shifted in her chair. One thing, however, was completely evident. There was a deep sadness written across the lines of Chrisjen's face. Her eyes reflected the mourning of an entire planet, like she felt the weight of every life lost pressing on her own heart.
Bobbie tried not to linger too long on the woman. She didn't want anyone to notice how difficult it was for her to not look at Chrisjen.
"In short," Bobbie finished, anxious to wrap up, "the UN Tower is a total loss."
There were groans and sighs across the room. Chrisjen was still looking at her, the same expression on her face.
Someone asked from the back of the room, "Can it be rebuilt?"
Bobbie glanced away from her charge. "The lead engineer on site believes it's impossible. In fact, he was adamant that it be imploded as soon as possible for safety reasons, along with several other buildings around the area."
"What about another area in Manhattan?" Another cabinet member called out.
"Much of Manhattan is still under water," Bobbie answered matter of factly. "Without repairing the gaps in the sea wall, it will stay under water indefinitely." She needed them to understand. "It will take at least a decade to clear the debris from the current site of the UN headquarters. Another decade to build something in its place. All due respect, but Earth can't wait that long." She caught Chrisjen's eye again. "You have to let New York go."
At that, Chrisjen finally dropped her head, if only slightly.
"What about the refugee camps?" One of the generals inquired. "What's the security situation like?"
Hands clasped behind her back, Bobbie told the general, "Tenuous. There isn't a lot of manpower to help and there's simply not enough food or warmth to go around. The military is maintaining control, but any kind of organized uprising could disrupt an entire region. If you want to maintain order, these citizens have to get their needs met."
"How do you propose we do that?" The bitter inflection came from a young aide on the other side of the room.
Bobbie stuffed her annoyance. "My job was to bring you intel," she said flatly. "It's yours to solve the problem."
The aide scoffed. "I think it might not be as dire as you're implying. How can a Martian really know the needs of our people anyway?"
Bobbie's blood boiled instantly. A flush crept up her neck and she clenched her hands together behind her back. "I know because while you're up here in your warm, safe ivory tower I've actually seen these people." She tried to keep her voice even, but could hear it growing stronger. "They looked me and my team in the eye and asked when help was coming. So, with all due respect to all of you, rebuilding the United Nations Building is the least of your worries because if the population of Earth is extinct you'll all be out a job anyway."
Another conversation began with one cabinet member looking to another and asking, "Could we head west and rebuild someplace more open?"
Bobbie injected, getting frustrated. "You're not listening. Your first priority needs to be helping the citizens of Earth now."
Even as she said it, voices began speaking all over the room as everyone tried to think out loud what they believed the next steps should be. It was getting chaotic and Bobbie looked to Chrisjen again, discouraged. They watched each other amidst the echoes of empty words around them. Chrisjen took a deep breath and Bobbie saw strength rising in the woman.
Chrisjen stood to her feet and practically shouted, "Enough!"
All the chatter ceased. Everyone turned to her. A short silence hung in the air as Chrisjen made sure she had everyone's attention.
"Listen to you," the Secretary-General said. "You're concerned about where to put a fucking building when our people are dying. Still dying, months after the attack." She took care to make eye contact as she glanced around the room. "We've been focused on the wrong thing. We wanted to rebuild as a symbol of hope, but these people don't need a symbol. They need something much more tangible."
Squaring her jaw, Chrisjen looked at her Secretary of Agriculture. "Get in touch with people on the ground. If you don't have any, get people down there. Find food, before it all dries up."
"Ma'am," the woman began to protest.
"Just fucking do it," Chrisjen snapped. "It's time we all start getting back to work. We've all been stuck on this fucking rock and we've forgotten what we're supposed to be doing. Saving Earth." She looked around again. "Who's the fucking Secretary of Transportation?"
A man who seemed much too young for the position raised his hand eagerly. "Me, Madame Secretary."
She found him and said, "Get a team down there, find safe spaces to put these people. Move them if necessary." The young man wrote hurriedly on his handheld. "Coordinate with the structural engineers already in North America. See what they can build to house people as quickly as possible."
"Yes ma'am." The man was already rushing off to make the calls.
Bobbie nodded. Yes, this was more like it.
"Where's Delgado?" Chrisjen asked.
"Here ma'am." The older general raised his hand.
"Get more Marines down there. We have more than we need here on Luna. Get those teams the back up they need." He nodded and pulled out his device. Chrisjen turned to look around again. "Who can organize salvage teams? We need to assess what can be salvaged and reused and get it to the proper teams immediately."
A woman in uniform called from the corner of the room near Bobbie. "I can do that, ma'am."
"Good." With that Chrisjen looked at Bobbie. "Agent Draper, I need you to get your team back together. You're taking me down to the surface."
Bobbie's mouth dropped open, shocked at the request. "Ma'am, I don't think that's a good idea. The situation on the surface is volatile -"
"That's why I need to be there," Chrisjen interrupted.
The frustration from minutes before came back to Bobbie. "I really must insist-"
"I'm going." Her eyes flashed with a determination Bobbie had seen many times. She wasn't going to back down. "That's final."
With that, Chrisjen roughly exited the room, her cabinet filing out after her and others filtering out after that. They all slowly left until Bobbie was alone in the room, recalling all the reasons why working for Chrisjen Avasarala was so difficult.