Voyager Dawn

by Richard Patton

  *

  “I’ve never been so proud to be in the Colonial Guard,” Hadings laughed. Ethan had never seen Hadings laugh before. It was infectious.

  The captain met Ethan, Frank, and the rest of Omicron Squad at the foot of Voyager Dawn. “First you six, volunteering for the most idiotic suicide mission I’ve ever heard of, and then all of them.” He motioned toward the veritable army of civilians and soldiers gathered in the clearing, every one of them armed, if not with guns, then sticks and rocks.

  “How did that happen, anyway?” Mason wondered aloud.

  “Word got around fast once you left,” Hadings explained. “Next thing I knew I had a mob at my door demanding we go help. So we went back through the old camp, gathered up all the guns we could find, and followed you back here.

  “Let me tell you, this is the sort of spirit they don’t get in the Navy,” he continued. “I’m going to see to it personally you’re each awarded a Medal of Honor. Even you, mister Topper, although I think we’ll have to make you an Honorary Guard before that happens.”

  “I’m fine where I am, sir. Thank you, sir,” Frank answered, sounding confident for the first time in a long time.

  Hadings flashed an uncharacteristic smile. “That’s a pretty good place from where I’m standing. Well, maybe you’ll get a research grant or something.” Frank grinned, and Hadings turned to the squad. “Corporal Shields will be fine. Colony doctors know how to handle a few broken vertebrae. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

  Hadings gave each of them a sharp salute, then turned to leave. He paused, then turned back. “You’ve done a hell of a job, team.” Then he left, off to oversee repairs and distribute rations.

  Ethan, Rebecca, Mason, Briggs, and Frank headed in the other direction, back to the edge of the clearing where they could watch humans once again occupy Voyager Dawn. To their great surprise, a feral Naldím appeared from within the thick brush behind them, taking a seat next to Ethan. It blew a long breath out of its six gills. Ethan looked at it and chuckled.

  “I hear you, buddy,” he said. He mimicked the Naldím, exhaling his tensions and laying back on the grass. It was time to rest.

  Dawn

  Ethan sat in the captain’s chair, the wind rippling through the blown out walls of the bridge, carrying cool air across his face. Even in the daytime he could see the twinkling lights that were the UOE destroyers parked in low orbit. A medical shuttle roared overhead, returning from space to pick up more passengers.

  A few forklifts had been extracted from the mangled hull of Voyager Dawn to clean up the landing site in preparation for the UOE’s arrival, demolishing the prefabs and piling Naldím corpses on a bonfire. Even the ferals returned, albiet briefly, to collect their dead.

  Finally, with no more pressing matters to distract them, the engineering crew began repairs, retrieving data on the Naldím and restoring basic functions to the ship. Before long, the comm array was restored to working order. A day later the first Imperial ships had come crawling out of Compressed Space.

  Ford had been one of the first ones shuttled out, more in need of medical care than the others, and Mason had gone with him. Rebecca stayed, mostly because – she confided in Ethan – she couldn’t stand waiting around on a ship when there was work to do below.

  The door to the bridge hissed open, and Ethan smartly swiveled the chair around to face the visitor. It was Rebecca, dressed in her Wraith armor as she had been for the last four days.

  “How’s it coming?” Ethan asked, spinning his chair back towards the horizon.

  “Almost finished.” Rebecca claimed the commander’s chair next to Ethan, and followed his gaze up to the ships.

  “What happens now?”

  Rebecca thought for a moment. “Short version: the UOE will declare war. There’s no way around it.”

  “Do you think we can beat them?” Ethan looked over at Rebecca.

  “Maybe,” Rebecca said unhelpfully. “We beat them here. But we don’t know the full extent of their war machine. These ships could have been corvettes by their measure.”

  Ethan grew silent, swallowing hard. He had seen enough war in these past months to last him a lifetime. He was not looking forward to seeing the entire Empire engulfed in the same terror. “When I get home,” he said slowly, “I think I’m going to stay there.”

  “Get out of the military?”

  “Yeah. Get a place, get a job. Maybe a commercial pilot.”

  “It’s not so easy to leave,” Rebecca said.

  “Sure it is. You sign some papers, hand in your uniform, and there you go.”

  “I mean,” Rebecca stressed, “you’ll regret it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because until the Naldím attacked, that’s what I was going through,” Rebecca said. “I went from carrying out black ops every day to lounging around a colony ship. I didn’t enjoy it. There wasn’t enough action.”

  “I’ve had my share of action,” Ethan retorted.

  “You say that now…”

  They lapsed into silence again, until another question came to Ethan’s mind. “What about you?” he asked. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll be debriefed, reconditioned, and sent back out.”

  Ethan’s gut twisted. “Reconditioned? Like brainwashing?”

  “Just R-and-R. Maybe some retraining.” Rebecca’s helmet, lying beside her, chirped. She peered into its depths. “I’m on the next flight out,” she said, standing. “Are you coming?”

  “I’m going to take the last one,” Ethan answered.

  Rebecca nodded, then, hesitantly, patted Ethan’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself.” She strode back across the bridge and disappeared into the elevator.

  Ethan looked at the wreckage around him. He would have left the planet sooner, but something held him back. At first he thought that he didn’t want to abandon the crew and complement still on the surface, but now it occurred to him that he would never see Voyager Dawn again. He wanted to spend time with the old girl before she was retired.

  Great, now I’m sentimental, he thought bitterly. Running his hand across the chair’s arm, Ethan got up and limped over to the broken windscreen.

  The sun was setting on Dawn Six, dipping behind the dense foliage and clouds, casting orange light across the horizon. Here, Ethan ruminated, it was dusk. Across the Empire it was a new dawn. A dawn of war, perhaps, but a dawn that would undoubtedly herald discovery and unity as well. The galaxy had suddenly become much larger and far more dangerous – humanity had to find its place in this new reality soon or face the same horrors as Voyager Dawn. Only time would tell where that place was.