The Coming Storm_A Pax Aeterna Novel

by Trevor Wyatt

  He took pride in it. He had Ashley, and her love.

  But when did he ever have peace? When did he ever have a family?

  If he were honest to himself, he would think he never wanted one; and neither did she. But now he was older, and he couldn’t’ help but wonder what it would be like to be a father. It felt as if his life had split into pieces, and he was left wondering how to put them back together.

  What am I, who am I, without this war?

  Did he love Ashley, or did he simply want comfort from her? Without the war to shape them, to give their lives purpose, what would they be? Would they still even be married?

  So much had changed...it had jarred loose unpleasant thoughts and doubts that now spun around inside his head.

  His aimless wandering brought him to the corridor where they had their temporary quarters. Jeryl frowned at the doorway. He didn’t mean to come here. He wanted to lose himself in the press of people, not hide away. He heaved a sigh and entered.

  Inside, Ashley was seated at the small table in their miniscule sitting room, having coffee. (Okay, Jeryl admitted; it was good coffee. One benefit the corpers had brought them.)

  Ashley was beautiful. She looked at Jeryl and all his doubts dropped away, replaced by sheer lust. He couldn’t get enough of her, he went to her, he put his hands on his shoulders and ran them down the sides of her breasts.

  “Coffee?” He murmured into her hair.

  “Sir, yes sir,” she murmured back.

  Tomorrow, they would go into battle yet again. All their angst and frustration, though, was on hold now as she stood and pressed herself against him. He slid his hands down her back and gripped her ass. They kissed, and walked themselves, still kissing, into the sleeping chamber. They tore their uniforms off and lost themselves in each other.

  I have found the solace I seek, Jeryl thought. Nothing else matters.

  Ashley

  Nowadays, it was difficult to find peace and solace. The war had ravaged so many worlds. Hundreds of millions had died.

  Not millions, Ashley corrected herself.

  Billions. The number the government acknowledged was 4 billion.

  Who knew if that was indeed the real number? Most of the damage was here, in the Edoris Sector. But it was all across the border with the Sonali. The border they only learned about through five years of attacks. They had all come through the Edoris Sector.

  But even if it was 4 billion out of the 44 billion people that lived in the Terran Union, for Ashley, it was still a lot. Real people. Real people with beating hearts, living hopes, and now dead dreams. Sometimes she could almost see them in her dreams. Entire family lines had been wiped away.

  Yet, they all kept fighting. They kept moving. They had to; they were compelled by the unprecedented losses they had endured to fight on, for if they did not fight on…then those loses would had been in vain.

  Ashley had to adapt. Five years of war between the humans and the Sonali—she had to grow. She had watched the Terran Armada turn her into an instrument of deadly force. She had developed a military mind, one that had become far too comfortable with some of the atrocities of war.

  Nevertheless, she had somehow managed to retain her humanity. She couldn’t say this for the rest of the crew of The Seeker. Not because she had witnessed any flagrant misdemeanor, but simply because…she didn’t know. War changed people in ways that were beyond recognition. In the heat of the moment, people just might surprise themselves at the things they could do.

  She wasn’t the same First Officer Commander Ashley Gavin that served aboard The Seeker, five years back when they made First Contact (well… Second Contact) with the Sonali. Now, she was Captain Jeryl’s First Officer in The Seeker, now a Battle Cruiser.

  She was also his wife; a good thing that came off their time serving together aboard the frigate.

  They were docked at Edoris Station, but they were getting ready to move out. Final system checks were being run by the engineering department in conjunction with some of the station’s technical crew and engineers. The repairs had been tested and flexed as much as they could be while on the station.

  She trusted the crew to conduct the tests and final checks without her breathing down their necks. By now they had already been briefed about where they were headed next and what was expected of them. They knew what was at stake.

  This was humanity’s last stand. If they lost it here, it would only be a matter of time until humans became a footnote in the universe’s history. If they win here, though, humanity would finally have a hope at survival. The stakes were high and everyone knew it. Everyone was doing their best. Ashley just hoped that would be enough.

  “This is good, being here with you,” Ashley whispered, looking at Jeryl a smile dawning on her lips. They were still in their temporary quarters, and she was locked in his arms, enjoying his hot breath in her hair and feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the memories of happiness that they had known through constant sadness flood her.

  The fun.

  The love making.

  The many nights she spent in his arms looking at the stars.

  Then, she focused in on last night. Jeryl was rough, but she liked it. Most times he was delicate. She supposed it had something to do with the war. Ashley could tell he was frustrated and angry and nervous. She would be too, if she were Captain.

  Yes, she was First Officer, but the way she felt about the mission was nowhere compared to how he did. The weight of over three hundred personnel upon the ship wasn’t upon her shoulders but his. If she did something wrong, she could easily report to him. She had no one to report to save himself, especially during the heat of battle. She tried to always be there for him, whenever he needed her…but the burden of command was a solitary one.

  “Do you sometimes feel that we don’t get enough time together?” Jeryl whispered to her.

  Ashley wasn’t sure why, but his cool, lucid voice aroused her.

  “All the time,” she replied, her voice nothing but a faint whisper. “It’s never enough. Even if we had every night for ourselves, it wouldn’t be enough.”

  She heard him chuckle, and that made her smile. At least she still could still bring some semblance of happiness to the man who was known across the Terran Union as the Avenger of The Mariner.

  The previous night had left her a little sore in so many places, and that was a good thing. She probably wouldn’t be seeing her husband until the end of this mission. From now on, he would just be the Captain. At least now she had something to think about for the duration of this final mission.

  She tried one last joke. “You know, Captain, for someone who’s taking his crew to war it should’ve been your responsibility to ensure that I can walk this morning.”

  Jeryl cracked up, his chuckle turning into generous laughter, and he grabbed her body tighter in his arm. Ashley felt a resurgence of last night’s desire, and she struggled to keep it together. One thing was sure: if she started kissing Jeryl, they wouldn’t leave this station's quarters for another thirty minutes…and they were scheduled to depart in ten.

  “I love you,” he muttered to her, then lay his lips on her forehead.

  Ashley retracted herself from his embrace and looked him in the eyes. He was smiling at her with a kindness he had never displayed towards anybody before, at least not in her presence.

  And I’m always present, she thought, being his wife and First Officer.

  Ashley was smiling too, but deep down she felt a shadow inside of her: they might not make it out of this alive. As she remembered that, her mind’s clouded with a strong sense of pain and anguish.

  Tears came to her eyes and she didn’t know what to say. She saw Jeryl’s eyes grow darker, a sadness taking over him, and Ashley realized how deeply he cared for me.

  Despite all the tension, the anguish, and the fights…this man loves me. Truly loves me.

  “Captain Montgomery and First Officer Gavin
to the CNC!” said a voice over the intercom.

  They both looked up for the moment the intercom was active.

  Without saying anything, Ashley stood up and got dressed, the First Officer uniform becoming her second skin. As she headed for the door, Jeryl caught her before she commanded it open.

  “I swear this to you, Ashley, I will do everything within my power to…make sure we come back. Because we will make it out of this. Whatever it takes.”

  A smile slipped helplessly onto face. “I’ve always known that, Captain.”

  They walked out of the quarters and through the station and boarded the fast shuttle to The Seeker and made their way to the CNC. Every step she took toward the CNC was a step out of the fantasy world she built around her marriage with Jeryl, a safe place away from the cold indifference of an unforgiving universe.

  “Captain on deck!” yelled a bulky man standing by the entrance into the CNC. He wielded a rifle and sported the blue and black uniform of ship security. This was one of the several changes that had occurred in the fleet that Ashley had never felt comfortable with. She took her stand by her station, wondering about the frailty of the Terran Armada personnel.

  When a ship had to have special security staff to prevent mutinies, the fabric of the military was tearing. This put too much power in the hands of security, even though they reported directly to the Captain. It bred an unsavory and poisonous air of uncertainty and dread.

  There were about three dedicated security soldiers in the CNC, all of which were assigned to Jeryl. They were his personal protection detail and this was another point of contention between Ashley and the higher-ups.

  Why protect a Captain from his crew? What kind of message did that send? If anything, it was divisive; not exactly what was needed at this pivotal moment in the history of humanity.

  They became standard issue on all starships after the encounter at Azukene Colony in which the crew went through a mutiny on the TUS Terror—unheard of at that point on any Armada vessel. The Captain had given orders for ramming speed. The crew didn’t think that the frigate they were in was going to do a damn thing against the Sonali dreadnaught. They refused to throw away their lives. Ashley knew they were unaccustomed to war—it had been the first year.

  They murdered the Captain but by then, Sonali fighters had targeted them and taken out their FTL drives. Sonali ships swarmed around them and destroyed them along with the colony. But the automated last log that the ship sent out through slipstream captured those final moments on the CNC of that vessel.

  And the Armada began to post security officers to protect their Captains.

  Thankfully, Jeryl agreed with her, and he had refused to succumb to the paranoia that took over the entire Armada. Despite that, The Seeker’s security personnel had about twenty highly trained, highly skilled, and terribly equipped men and women who didn’t give a damn.

  Ashley tried as much as possible to stay out of their way. They didn’t contribute anything to the culture and operations on The Seeker, so she just tried and let them be. She couldn’t fight Armada regulations, but she sure as hell could do her best to ignore them.

  Jeryl took his seat and beamed at his CNC crew with pride. They didn’t notice it because everyone was frantic over their controls checking off last minute details and conducting final scans and ensuring readiness.

  Ashley smiled at this and read through some of the reports waiting for her, her eyes going over the information cascading down her tablet screen. She was critical about logistics, because it was her duty to ensure the ship ran smoothly so the Captain could focus on the more important decisions.

  After what felt like three seconds (but really was three minutes), the Captain said, “Clear all docking.”

  “Aye, captain,” replied Henry Docherty, the navigator. The ship thrummed for a moment and there was a soft jerk as they were released from the station. Gently, they began to put some distance between them and the last safe place they would see for quite some time. Ashley didn’t notice a roar in the engines. The inertia dampers were working well. Too well, she noted.

  “First Officer Gavin. Take the ship to high alert,” the Captain said.

  “High alert, sir,” Ashley reported right after tapping her fingers across the command panel holographic dashboard. The lights in the CNC and all over the ship took on a slight reddish tint. Defensive screens took over the main view screen with reports of every critical system - weapons, FTL drive, life support…it was all there.

  “Set course to Anderson Nebula,” Jeryl said at last, his voice somber. Still, there was a deep solemnity to his words. The kind of solemnity that told her what he was thinking about—and it was not pretty.

  She felt a sharp jerk the moment the FTL drive kicked in and flung them into interstellar space.

  “How long to The Mariner Nebula?” the Captain asked.

  “Three days, Captain,” Docherty replied.

  “It should give us enough time to complete whatever repairs are lagging,” the Captain said.

  “Aye, Captain,” she replied.

  This is it, thought Ashley. No turning back now.

  Admiral Flynn

  The live slipstream feed projected a full holographic image of Admiral Walker into the center of Flynn’s office. The image was blotchy in some areas and a lot of times it frazzled. The sound, however, was good and crisp.

  “Walker,” Flynn said by way of greeting. Even though he was spearheading the war effort, they had dropped the formalities between each other long ago.

  Walker nodded. He was seated on a chair in his office, and that was where the slipstream captured him. The background wasn’t part of the holographic image, and Flynn knew that it was the same for him; Walker was only able to see him standing by his desk, and not his entire office.

  “Flynn,” Admiral said in response. “What’s your status?”

  Flynn heaved a sigh. He had been thinking about the mission he just sent over four hundred ships on.

  What’s my status? Not a good one, that’s for sure.

  He had been posing that question over and over again since the captains departed.

  If they succeed and wiped out a billion innocent Sonali in one swipe, would that make him one of the greatest mass murderers in the history of the universe?

  Flynn came up with a no. Nature or the cosmos was the universe’s deadliest and cruelest mass murderer.

  From dust we came, to dust we shall return.

  He smiled in spite of himself. How true that statement was. Did the universe even care about consequences? Or were they—humans and Sonali—playing the consciousness game while the cold universe treated them with the same insignificance it would to a speck of dust?

  No, he wasn’t the universe’s greatest mass murderer. That prize went to the cosmos. But he knew that when this was all over, he would come in second. He wasn’t sure if that was how he wanted to be remembered, but he supposed that when it came to war no one got to choose their own legacy.

  Snapping out of it, he looked up at the life-sized image of Admiral Walker.

  “The captains departed two days ago, sir. The last of them will arrive at The Mariner nebula by tomorrow. No problems so far. The mission is still on course.”

  Admiral Walker cleared his throat and folded his hands before him. He saw his hands float in the air, but he knew he had them on his table, which the slipstream didn’t project. He began to pace in front of his desk. He tethered on the verge of telling Admiral Walker his fears.

  Despite their seniority, they had a lot in common. Walker was his senior back at the academy, and he had served under his command twice. Once as a First Officer, and another time as a Captain within his jurisdiction. Now, at this crucial moment in the galaxy’s history, he was serving with him. Not for him.

  He had never thought to have the opportunity to determine the course of the universe. Now, he found himself saddled with that responsibility—and who else to help him carry it but Walker himself?
r />   The Admiral must have had noticed Flynn’s discomfort,

  “You know how important this mission is, Flynn. Do I need to remind you of that?”

  There was some sort of unspoken tradition in the fleet—when a CO asked such a question anyone should reply with a firm negative, even though Flynn sure needed reminding.

  But Flynn didn’t.

  Not because he needed reminding, but because he wasn’t so sure this was the best course of action. It was ruthless, vicious. It was…inhumane.

  After pacing for a while, Flynn paused in front of the Admiral Walker. Looking up at him, he pursed his lips and mustered the necessary courage to continue.

  “Do you know Armada Intelligence reports that this planet we’re going to hit, this Sonali planet in the Beta Hydra III quadrant, is one of the most populated and densest planets belonging to the Sonali people in this sector?”

  Admiral Walker looked at him as if he couldn’t understand what he was saying. But Flynn knew he did.

  “Those ships will hit that planet, Flynn. This final attack will happen.”

  He stressed his voice and cocked an eyebrow when he said ‘will’.

  “There are a billion people on that planet and Intelligence believes it holds a mythic status for most of the Sonali. Like if someone came and destroyed Earth,” said Flynn to him.

  Walker stared at him, and Flynn felt like a child in a class

  “Did you know?” pressed Flynn. “Did you get the report?”

  Of course, he knew. Walker read the report long before Armada Intelligence sent his way. Flynn wondered why they sent it.

  To guilt trip me? To what end?

  Or maybe someone there felt guilty, and tried their possible best to stave off genocide. Maybe they believed that there was still someone in the Armada’s upper echelon with a heart. Someone whose conscience hadn’t been seared by the hot iron of war.