Shadow Call

by Michael Miller

  Tears welled in his eyes, and mine filled in response. I had never seen him cry in my entire life, nor had we discussed how my parents had felt about me. Beliefs, expectations, yes. Feelings, no, and it tore me open.

  “To me, you are my son. I leave no family behind but you and Marsius. I love you. I am so sorry to go.” He took a deep breath, wiping his face with a smile. “Take care of one another. Believe in a better, impossible future. Don’t mourn me more than you must. Everyone has their time. I’ve had more than I deserve. Besides, I go to join my wife and daughter now.” And then, he said what he had the last I’d seen him: “We will speak when this is over, I promise you.”

  The recording disappeared, and I blinked away tears. All this time I had looked upon Devrak as someone my family adopted, never realizing he had saved me by adopting me into his.

  I looked up at the viewport, watching the glowing flares in the ships and docks around me, signaling the lives within. And then I saw steady pinpoints of light among the stars, like a newly born constellation. It was the rest of Solara’s fleet, it had to be. She was indeed willing to commit all her forces to snuff me—us—out. This is all so large. Millions of people, systems in the balance. I looked down at my hands, callused from practice, bloodied from combat. And I am so very small.

  It wasn’t fair. I finally let myself think the words, selfish and stupid as they were. I could push them away all I wanted, but at the end, the universe, the Unifier, continued to reach out and extinguish what I loved. Devrak said to believe in an impossible future, but why bother being alive in a world where impossible future simply meant being alone, at peace, with the one person who frantically, desperately made me believe in living?

  Qole laughed in my head. I could hear her as clearly as though she were there; it was the laugh I knew she would give if I had pleaded for fairness with her. Get up, she would say, with the mercilessness borne of familiarity. It’s time to go to work.

  My hands closed slowly into fists. In a world where Qole existed, I would never be able to sit, wallowing in self-pity, when there was work to be done. And every fear, every terror that pressed on my shoulders was lifted by a new thought: to be worthy of a love that expected more of me.

  I stood. My dream was that a person like Qole could survive, and I would help create a universe they could believe in. It didn’t matter if it was impossible, it was worth fighting for. All I could do was make one more choice.

  I made it. It was time to fight.

  * * *

  It had not been a king who had entered his quarters, but a young man, bewildered, stricken by grief, and afraid. The person who exited had a job to do, and didn’t care what his title was.

  The crew stared at me uncertainly, their worry permeating the bridge. Clearly, Solara was betting that the Treznors had their own problems to sort out on the surface, and were waiting to deal with the aftermath. We had precious few minutes to prepare. The First Dracorte Fleet had been undefeated for over a hundred years, and it was heading for us.

  “Aris.” The woman started when I called her name. “You are now my XO.”

  “Your Majesty.” She looked hesitant. “I’m not qualified. I am primarily trained in ground—”

  “Not a question, Commander. I need someone I know I can work with.”

  She snapped a salute. “Understood. Orders, sire?”

  “One moment. Eton?”

  “Yes?” he responded.

  “Did you tell Devrak the Alaxans were coming? That they would be able buy us time to mobilize in place of Talia and Gavros?” Who likely wouldn’t have been able to make it in time, anyway.

  “Yeah, but he didn’t know for sure they would come.”

  He would have. The more you understand a person, the more reliable they are….

  I flicked my wrist-comm at Aris, and hers beeped in response. “Get this message to Talia and Gavros immediately, maximum encryption over the QUIN.” The network used for interstellar communication. They’d activated their Belarius Drives, after all.

  I glanced at the holo-map—Solara’s fleet was almost upon us, the red dots that represented her ships spreading out like a wave cresting before hitting the shore. We were officially out of time.

  I hit the comm in my ear. “Telu,” I said. “See if you can get this next transmission to reach Solara’s fleet, in addition to mine.” It was hard not asking after Qole, but the best thing I could do for her now was fight a war. And the first salvo of the war had to be fought for the hearts and minds of my crew. There was no better teacher of that than her, and I brought her memory near, channeling her. Thank you. I just hoped she would stay alive so I could thank her in person.

  When the comm blinked open, I addressed my navy. “Attention. This is your king speaking.” I almost stopped, unused to naming myself in that way, but carried on. “You are carrying pieces of a tradition that the Dracorte kingdom has upheld since the Great Collapse, that of fighting to defend those who cannot defend themselves.”

  My blood hummed in my veins. Father had taught me this was true. Even if his actions had betrayed that in the end, it didn’t matter. I’ve learned a new lesson. My own. “Today, we reclaim that tradition from she who would use the Dracorte name for her own gain. We are not pirates, marauders, or tyrants. We are the ones who scatter them.”

  One by one, the new fleet disengaged from their docks. New hulls gleamed in the light of the Valtai sun, nacelles glowing to life. Cutting-edge design did away with the tri-tine configuration of Treznors’ older destroyers, moving the command center and thrusters to the rear like the hilt of a Disruption Blade. Weapons and sensors arrays floated in concentric circles around the hull, their housings moving into position along invisible mag-couplings. Beautiful and deadly, they could dole out hope or despair.

  I remembered Eton, the joy of sacrifice written on his face as he fought Suvis, and I thought of Qole, who had given her all to buy us precious minutes. Two sacrifices that would not be in vain. “We are not the plunderers; we are the shield. We will not be made afraid, nor will we hesitate to give our all if we must.”

  I paused, letting them consider my words. It was, I finally understood, not my parents I had to live up to. Instead, I had to live up to what they should have been.

  “But today, I am not asking you to die. I am asking you to draw a line. Solara murdered our king and queen, betrayed the trust of millions, disregarded our law and order, and used the crown for nepotism and dispensing personal vendettas, and she will kill not just us here today, but so many we love in our systems, through direct action and irresponsible rule. Do not fight with me for the glory of my family—that is not why I fight, either. Fight with me because I will fight for you, for your family, for everyone you love. Today, give me your all, and I swear to you that I will give you mine.”

  I turned to my bridge, mouth set in a grim line. “Let us show Solara what it is that preys on the volassa.”

  As I let my voice fade, I wondered what filled the silence left behind. I hoped it was courage, purpose, and hope—everything that was keeping me standing.

  It might not matter. If my sister was a volassa, looking at her ships on the holo-map now made me realize she might be about to unhinge her jaw and swallow us whole. Either she or Faetora had pulled the perfect maneuver, forming a glimmering hemisphere of destroyers and starfighters around the dockyards. It was a colossal display of power, and there would be political repercussions, but there was still no response from the Treznor military. We were on our own. To escape, we would have to either go through the planet or go through her. In reserve, she had kept a force to chase down any concentration of ships and hammer it. It was a smart strategy, particularly with the Volassa being part of that force.

  Unlike the other destroyers there, the Volassa was a ship from a bygone era when the Dracortes still built their own vessels. My family had not favored the coloss
al carriers of the Belarius family or the battle cruisers that were the backbone of the Treznor military. Composed of long lines and sharp edges that ended in banks upon banks of thrusters, the superdestroyer was almost entirely dedicated to speed and firepower. Energy weapons dominated the prow, and if it brought itself to bear on you, the remainder of your existence would be short and terrifying. With it, Solara had brought the majority of the First Dracorte Fleet: ten battle carriers, seventy destroyers, and a thousand starfighters.

  In other words, her odds were good.

  Great speech. Can’t wait to see how you deliver. My wrist-comm beeped with the message from Telu, and I wondered how she managed to be both encouraging and dismaying in a few words.

  Qole? My fingers danced briefly across the space above my wrist. I wanted to type Is she better? or Tell me everything will be okay, but Telu’s humor didn’t fool me. She hadn’t gotten in touch to trade sarcastic remarks because things were going well. I wondered if she felt as alone as I did, locked in her station on the Kaitan, tied to the comms, fighting back her desire to be at her friend’s side.

  Breathing, but out of it. The words flashed on my wrist. My heart constricted, a thousand possibilities, each darker than the last, whispering in my head. She had gone crazy. Her brain had failed. She would wake and not be the same.

  I forced myself to return to the present before fear and worry tore away at me, looking around the bridge of the newly christened battleship DFS Devrak. Viewscreens swept around us, showing the endless construction docks of Valtai and a massive holo-map projecting the battle zone. Both my will and my fingers would direct the lives of many.

  Aris was working to filter relevant color-coded information on my holo-map. Immediate staff stood nearby to work on delegated tasks, prioritizing data and commands so I could focus on the larger picture at hand. I had seen it all in war games at the Academy.

  It was time to play a different sort of game: Let’s see if Solara reads me as poorly as I read her.

  “Gather the fleet to the rendezvous point.” I highlighted a sector on the holo-map, just outside the docks, putting the structure behind us—between us and the planet. It might have seemed like we were boxing ourselves in, instead of using the docks as a shield between ourselves and Solara, but this way, the rendezvous wasn’t far and provided enough space for us to consolidate our forces quickly. Besides, this position benefited us in other ways. “Solara will attack with the goal of keeping us scattered, so order a rearguard to remain at the docks to buy us time.” I steeled myself as I said those words. I was ordering part of my fleet to fight an outmatched battle. My forces desperately needed time to regroup from where we had launched, true, but just like that, so soon, I had consigned hundreds to their deaths to save the rest of us. Must we do this?

  Yes. We must, I replied to myself. Making difficult choices was not a luxury; it was a responsibility, one from which I was done running. “Aris, we’re forming battle groups one and two, to either side of the Devrak, respectively. I’ll take one, you have two. Tie those sectors to your control.”

  I looked back down at my wrist-comm and my fingers flicked out.

  Telu, do you have a line on the drones in-system? If threatened, drones would attempt to stop any military action they saw as a threat to themselves, without allegiance.

  This is the Treznor-Nirmana homeworld. They don’t let drones interfere with their airspace.

  I’d assumed as much, but it bore checking. My family had far and away the best access to what rudimentary drone commands remained, but skilled hackers across the systems, such as Telu, could still influence them. A capital world like Valtai would employ teams around the clock to try to keep them out of their immediate planetary approaches.

  Qole?

  Same.

  My hands reached for the holo-map. This had to be my Shadow run.

  I had five battle carriers and thirty destroyers to work with, with five hundred starfighters. We didn’t lack teeth, but we certainly had fewer.

  Solara’s crew was composed of the finest naval crew our family had to offer, her commanders plucked from the Royal Academy on Luvos. We were outnumbered and untrained for cutting-edge assault.

  But we had other skills. Aaltos was home to the rank and file, to veteran commanders who had dedicated their life to service, not glory. The Alaxans and their ships had shown what determination, skill, and belief could do. I had to hope, pray, that those I led believed in me with the same intensity.

  And that I wouldn’t fail them.

  * * *

  Like new stars, our ships broke free of their docks and streamed to gather around me. Sleek, made with the sharp curves my family preferred, they gleamed with the traditional Dracorte blue. Equipment arrays shifted around them on invisible magnetic couplings, shield generators and weapons looking first like a swarm of insects and then dorsal fins as they floated to where they were needed most. A fleet of daggers, they began to disgorge starfighters, their heavy snub noses and bands of missile launchers in sharp contrast to the older, more elegant starfighters that Solara was leading. I had preferred our older designs, but not now that I was the one wielding the future against the past.

  They moved like a wave of blue dots on my holo-map, trying to escape the incurvate barrier that Solara had put into place as they gathered around the DFS Devrak. Her older tri-hull destroyers swooped in, thrusters burning and weapons glowing to life as they discharged their assault. Missiles streamed out first, trailing gold, only to be countered by chaff and miniature EMP bursts opening in balls of coruscating electric energy. Her plasma beams lanced out next, probing, seeking a weakness in the defenses of the ships before them.

  Humans all over the universe were capable of perceiving beauty; all it took was the choice to see it. Even in this horrible situation, a useless thought sprang to the forefront of my mind. Taken out of context, there was beauty here: we were painting the space above the planet Valtai with the vivid colors of the strife and anger between two siblings.

  I had no part in the heroics of our destroyers and their starfighters that acted as the rearguard, the ones who stayed behind while the rest of us regrouped. Legends were born, men and women performed miracles of courage and strategy in the savage confrontation, and it was thanks to them that the majority of our fleet gathered in a defensive sphere before the construction docks.

  It still wasn’t a comforting sight. On the holo-map, we were a spot of blue in an ever-shrinking sea of red, as Solara’s fighters pinched the space around us shut. When the trap closed, we would be like the last patch of dry land snuffed out in a flood.

  I swallowed, tasting acid in my mouth. This was my plan. I had just watched ships burn and disintegrate under my orders, their captains striving to fulfill them to the best of their ability, trusting in me. And one by one, ships winked out of existence as they paid the price for buying us time, the lives of those who had chosen to follow me going with them.

  Still online were five battle carriers, twenty destroyers, three hundred fifty starfighters. We’d lost over a quarter of our fleet—all to get time to get into formation.

  A holo of Talia flickered to life beside me. “That cost you. But in slightly more positive news, we’re in position, as well.”

  I couldn’t help grinning, despite it all. “Good to see you.”

  “I beg your extreme pardon for letting you believe we’d betrayed you, Your Majesty—”

  “You trusted Devrak, and so do I. Let’s hope it pays off now. Ready for phase two?”

  She nodded, face grim, eyes alight. “Affirmative. We’re running on low power and should be escaping notice, especially with the interference, first from the planet, and now the docks passing above us in orbit. Nothing on enemy comms suggests anything other than that we tucked tail and ran while we were on the other side of Valtai.”

  Rather than scrutinizing their sensor
s, Solara’s forces were likely eavesdropping on our lightly encrypted channels, not on the properly secured QUIN we were now using that ships typically only activated over great distances. Besides, Talia and Gavros were off their radar literally and figuratively. Solara thought Talia’s and Gavros’s destroyers had fired up their Belarius Drives and left. They’d done the former, just not the latter, but the effect was the same. Why pay attention to something that was supposedly no longer there?

  Gavros didn’t bother appearing as a hologram. “This is completely counter to best practices. Your losses were too heavy for such an aggressive move.”

  “Thank you, Gavros,” I said dismissively. I should have been trying to edge away from the planet, allowing myself to retreat wherever I could, using my starfighters to slip around Solara before we were irreversibly surrounded, looking for an avenue of escape. Then I would drive forward, destroyers first, making a larger hole in her fleet for my battle carriers to flee. That would have been a textbook tactic.

  But I didn’t have the numbers for following the textbook, and my time on the Kaitan had made me prefer more…daring avenues. I had gathered my ships like a fist near the Valtai construction docks, preparing to strike. My intent was obvious to anyone, desperate, and I didn’t care. I was going to fight her head on.

  Aris brought up a damage graph without me asking, the number of fighters that were out of play creeping upward in front of my eyes. It was like a slap to the face, and for a second I struggled not to react. I might be eating myself alive inside, but it was the last thing I could show anyone.

  “Give the command to execute phase two.” I steeled my voice to carry across the comms, trying to sound as aggressive as the maneuver.