“Less commentary, more results, Mr. Peters,” Haley warned, but her remonstrations were cut short as the N’xin craft vectored and leaped to FTL speeds. “Could someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Yes ma’am,” the communications officer said, abashed. He looked up suddenly, his face paling visibly. “Captain… you’re going to want to see this for yourself.”
*
“Are we sure about this?” Jeremy Hawthorne stared at the translated text on the datapad in shock, anxiety gnawing away at his heart like a termite. “I mean, absolutely certain?”
At this hour on the Adjudicator – 0200 – his office was bathed in darkness. Ordinarily, Hawthorne would have been asleep – or at least, in bed – but Shanthi had roused him not long after he had nodded off, the bearer of unexpected developments.
Tryla Shanthi, her hands clasped behind her back as she stood imperiously on the other side of Admiral Jeremy Hawthorne’s desk, nodded slowly in the direction of the datapad he held. Despite the fact that she, too, was off-duty, she was as immaculate as ever, duty uniform neatly pressed, curly black hair neat and in a bun.
The same could not be said for Hawthorne, who was still in his briefs, his modesty protected by his bathrobe, his beard adding a near-homeless aspect to his appearance.
“Quite certain, sir. This same N’xin vessel – the Pious Devotion – has appeared in six separate star systems, and each time has delivered the same message to our forces, calling for a cease-fire.”
Hawthorne frowned. “But so far, there’s only been the one documented case of the N’xin fighting amongst themselves?”
“Technically, yes,” Shanthi affirmed. “Though there appeared to be a tense stand-off yesterday – the Pious Devotion looked set to be challenged by a pair of N’xin frigates in the Guernica system, but the Endurance managed to chase them off and make a peaceful – if tense – standoff.”
“Did Captain Carmichael communicate directly with the N’xin?”
“Negative, Admiral. They simply received the same transmission as everyone else. The N’xin left as soon as they received acknowledgement of the transmission.”
Hawthorne frowned, leaning back in his seat as his attention turned to the viewport – the stars had once been a comfort for him, but not so much lately. There was too much to do, and not enough time to do it in.
“Any indications that this is a trap?” he asked, turning to the hologram Admiral Saul Ginsberg, the new head of Naval Intelligence. “They want these talks taking place at New Haven. That’s still fringe territory. Securing the site for any kind of talks is going to be problematic – especially if the Hegemony is in the middle of a schism.”
Saul Ginsberg was a heavy-set man, possessed of a keen intelligence but, due to shoddy genetic manipulation and sequencing in utero, was often beset by health problems. As such, his hair was thinning and greying much earlier than expected, and his weight often fluctuated between heavy and clinically obese.
Still, he was more than competent at his job, and had survived three C&C’s as a Deputy Chief before Hawthorne had promoted him to the head of Naval Intelligence.
“Not so far… but, Admiral, our ability to verify these sorts of details is severely limited. Part of our problem in fighting the N’xin has always been our lack of cultural understanding of the Hegemony – it took us nearly four years to develop a reliable translation matrix for all 23 of their language groups and –”
“So, we cannot confirm if this is a trap or not,” Shanthi clarified, cutting Ginsberg off and frowning severely. She’d been afraid of N’xin reprisals for weeks now, nervous that their apparent widespread retreat had, in fact, been nothing more than an elaborate regrouping.
“Correct.”
Hawthorne smiled – it was rare to get a one-word answer out of Ginsberg. He drummed his fingers lightly, finally spinning around and facing Shanthi, a cold glint in his eyes. “Regardless of whether it’s a trap or not, it’s an opportunity, Captain. One we’ve been fighting towards for years, and one we would be irresponsible to ignore.”
Shanthi considered this – carefully – and nodded. “Of course, Admiral, but the fact that there seems to be internal dissent in the Hegemony cannot be ignored.”
Hawthorne nodded slowly, clasping his hands together on his desk. “Begin the preparations, Captain. Have the fleets standby in standard defensive positions.”
*
“We can confirm that, as of 1720 hours, Bastion time, the N’xin-Commonwealth conflict has come to an end. The Armistice was signed last night, with delegations from both sides signing the Accord – which includes the formation of a Demilitarized Zone between our two nations. This zone creates a five light-year buffer where no military activity is permitted, and only a minimal military presence is allowed within two light years of this zone.
“While this is welcome news for the Outer Colonies – indeed, the greater Commonwealth – a mixed reaction has been received with news of the DMZ. Concern has been raised over the ability of the Commonwealth Navy to enforce the Zone and protect the interests and safety of the Outer Colonies. Governor Cheung, of Akimaya, has announced his intention of challenging the conditions of the DMZ with the Commonwealth Parliament during his state visit to Earth next month. Legal experts have already suggested a challenge towards the DMZ could be made based on constitutional grounds.
“In the meantime, Fleet Admiral Hawthorne and Defence Minister Hirano have announced that the Commonwealth Navy will remain at battle readiness during much of the rebuilding and resettlement process, which is expected to take more than ten years. Admiral Hawthorne says that the Navy will resume its peacetime missions – including postponed and abandoned exploratory missions – no later than 2443.
“Reconstruction is scheduled to begin as soon as next week, with relief teams already shoring up the refugee camps on Titus IV, Newton II and New Healesville. Relief convoys are being assembled at Bastion, Earth and Elysium. Approximately 15.6 million refugees are looking for new worlds to settle on. Political experts are suggesting that the issue of refugee resettlement will be an issue at the next presidential election.
“In terms of loss of life, the best-case estimates have put the casualty list at 74.5 million civilian deaths, with almost forty million of those not having re-life policies. Military losses stand at 4.5 million deaths, but it’s reported that most of our fallen soldiers will be re-lifed by 2450. We can confirm that to the year 2437, the Navy had lost 253 vessels. There are no estimates into losses sustained for the final years of the war.
“In terms of economic losses, the war is said to have cost the Commonwealth economy 73.2 trillion dollars in lost productivity over its twenty years, with the military budget increased almost six hundred percent, totalling an annual budget of thirty trillion dollars. Seventeen colonies experienced recessions, while nine colonies were destroyed or abandoned, with thirty-one outposts and settlements being rendered unviable or unsustainable. Relief efforts and reconstruction costs are anticipated to meet, or exceed, the cost of the war.”
Elias Hunter didn’t hear his wife walk in, he was so engrossed by the news report that floated over his desk. It wasn’t until she waved her hand through the holographic feed – distorting the news readers forehead – that he realized she had walked into his inner sanctum on the world of Sanctuary.
“So what’s engrossing you this late in the evening?” Alice Chamberlain asked cheerfully.
“Oh, the war, naturally,” Elias said, sighing. He leaned back in his seat, hands clasped firmly behind his head. “I’m, uh, going to try and convince my father to start funnelling funds to the project again, once the dust settles from the war.”
“Good luck with that, you know how tight he’s been with money the last few years,” Alice murmured. Elias concurred with her assessment of their chances – for the last twenty years, Elias’ private efforts to terraform a world into a wildlife preserve (capable of housing tens of thousands of different species
in habitat-appropriate environments) had all but stalled as the family fortune was shifted to provide for the war effort. But with the fighting finished, the rebuilding starts.
“We might have some luck,” Elias said, shrugging. “With the war over, wartime taxation is set to expire… and my bankroll is enough to maintain us, until dad – or Michael – change their minds and turn the tap on again.” He sighed, not bothering to gauge his chances on that happening. “Is Noah in bed?”
“Yeah, he bombed as soon as his head hit the pillow.” She smirked. “This after protesting for nearly half-an-hour that he was too old to be going to bed so early.”
Elias offered a slight chuckle, finally standing up and stretching – this late in the evening, after being at a desk for more than twelve hours, he felt every one of his 84 years. “Fourteen-year olds think they know everything,” he said, then paused as he frowned in thought. “Or so I’m told… I don’t do… I mean, I don’t really understand children.” He shook the thought away, and came around the desk, extending a hand to his wife. “Want to grab dinner?”
“Sure.” She linked her arm with his as they left the office. “You know, I’m kind of sad I left the Navy.”
The admission surprised Elias – she’d described no love or affection for the military, or its lifestyle, in the time he had known her. “Oh, and, uh, why would that be? I thought you hated the whole thing.” He felt a chill run up his spine. “I certainly hate the need for it.”
“I hated losing, I hated being part of a losing effort,” Alice admitted bitterly. “I hate losing friends… and I also hated the uniforms… But now that it’s over and we’ve won… I kind of miss not being able to be a part of that.” She smiled. “Of course, I wouldn’t trade Noah in for anything in the world. And if I hadn’t been cashiered out when I got pregnant, I wouldn’t have met you.”
“Well, I’m glad you remembered that part,” Elias said, smirking as he reached out with a hand and switched the lights off. The room behind him plunged into darkness. “I know it’s pretty easy to forget me, sometimes.”
“Oh, stop it,” Alice said, slapping his arm playfully. Alice had been introduced to Elias by his friend, and former colleague at Princeton, Siska; Siska had believed that Alice’s skills as a quartermaster in the Navy would be useful in solving some of Sanctuary’s imminent supply problems, as well as being able to help out with certain waste-management problems – Alice was, after all, a trained bio-chemical engineer, who had simply used the Navy as a means to fund her studies.
Alice – who was a struggling single mother at the time Elias had approached her – had thrown herself at the opportunity, keen to start a new life away from the Commonwealth, in relative safety and comfort.
“I received a message from Pam Balcer,” Alice told him. “Her and Mitch are settling in nicely on Bastion… and there don’t appear to be any complications with Mitch. He’s developing nicely, and still seeing a psych.”
Elias nodded fractionally. “That is good to hear, though it’d be best if he keeps seeing a doctor regularly for the next couple of years, at least. We’ve never re-lifed someone before, and considering the amount of trouble the Commonwealth clinics have had with their own efforts, I’m not sure how our –”
“She already knows all that,” Alice said, smiling wistfully. “You worry too much, Eli. You did a wonderful thing for her… well, you and your brother, I guess. He is the one who…”
“Yes, I know,” Elias replied. Despite his feeling positive over how the resurrection of Mitchel Balcer had turned out, he had already decided against any further re-life procedures, even if money was offered. It was too costly and time-consuming, and not nearly as engaging as he had envisioned when he’d accepted James’ invitation to do one.
Which wasn’t to say it wasn’t rewarding in its own right… It just didn’t pay the bills, and distracted him from his work. “Speaking of James, you know he will be coming home soon, uh, once the post-war climate is suitably established and… underway, I guess.”
Alice’s expression darkened at the reminder. “I suppose he will be.” She sighed, sensing what was coming. “You’re going to invite him here, aren’t you?” So far, James and Troy were the only Hunter’s who hadn’t seen Sanctuary in the flesh, though the other Hunter siblings weren’t exactly frequent guests, either.
Elias shrugged, noncommittally. “He is family, Alice. In more ways than one.” He frowned. “You had to know that you couldn’t hide out here forever. Your paths were always destined to cross.”
Alice sighed, resigned. It wasn’t that she was afraid, he knew – she just wasn’t sure how to explain everything that had happened since that fateful night. Elias could sympathize… but that didn’t negate the need for the conversation in question to happen.
She tried to smile bravely. “I suppose. I guess I’m just mad at myself for not having worked out how I want to handle this… problem…”
“It’s not a problem,” Elias corrected her gently, though truthfully, he wasn’t quite sure how else he could describe the situation. This kind of thing was well outside his usual areas of expertise, even in the theoretical sense. And just like the spoken word, Elias wasn’t sure how to handle it.
“Feels like one to me, Eli,” Alice replied grumpily, arching an eyebrow. “A big one.”
“He has a right to know, Alice.”
Alice gave him an annoyed glance, her red lips thinning in disapproval. “I know, Eli. He will. One day. I just need to figure out how to tell him.”
*
“Hey, Mack! Mack! Guess what!”
Even as Jayesh Khan burst into the room, he could tell that his bunkmate also had good news of his own. Mackenzie Spencer was, in fact, grinning from ear to ear, revealing pearly white teeth to the harsh afternoon sun streaming through the windows. He was sitting at the desk that stood next to his bed, flapping a datapad in his hand as if to fan himself.
“You’re getting out of here?”
“Yes!” Jayesh almost shouted, letting out a triumphant whoop. His departure was still months away – and would likely be pushed back even longer – but at least he was going to leave. “Eventually… but a timetable is better than the nothing we had a few hours ago.”
“I got my own timetable too,” Mackenzie said, doing his best to emulate Jayesh’s mood, though there seemed to be a touch of sadness to his voice now. “They’re shipping me off to Bastion, once I’m properly…” He frowned and consulted his datapad. “Emancipated… that means free of guardianship, doesn’t it? Is that the word?”
Jayesh nodded sadly, wincing as he lost some of his cheer. Jayesh still had an intact family unit – Mackenzie literally had no one, as the Commonwealth had been unable to find any surviving family members, save for some distant cousins on a far-off colony who didn’t even know Mackenzie existed. “Damn… my family is being sent to Elysium.”
Mackenzie blinked in surprise, his buoyed mood evaporating, as disappointment set in like a sudden snow-storm. The Khans were the closest thing he had to a family on this cesspit, and he’d been hoping that he’d be able to move in with them once they got a new world.
“Maybe we can get those arrangements changed,” Jayesh suggested hopefully, and Mackenzie nodded but didn’t look hopeful – unless you had connections, or a shit-tonne of patience, the chances of the Commonwealth bureaucracy reversing a decision was slim. “Won’t hurt to try, at least.”
“True,” Mackenzie said diplomatically, falling back into a depressive state, bringing down the mood of the room with him.
“Well, at least we’re leaving,” Jayesh continued, trying his best to sound chirpy, not wanting to see the abyss of depression settle amongst them. “And keeping in contact will be easy with the extranet… and with the increase in trade, we’ll probably be able to visit each other.”
Mackenzie favoured him with a mirthless smile. “Yeah,” he said, though Jayesh could tell he wasn’t really convinced. Why should he be? We never heard from Lindsey
after she escaped from this place.
Jayesh missed Lindsey, though he was glad she’d gotten out of the hellhole when she did – she’d been on the verge of being catatonic from depression and boredom… and yet, somehow, only just qualified for an emergency medical transfer.
“Do you wanna get lunch? I’m hungry.”
Jayesh smiled, gesturing to the door. “After you, Mack.”
2440: Journey’s End
“When the peace treaty is signed, the war isn’t over for the veterans, or the family. It’s just starting.” – Karl Marlantes
A quiet group, a dozen strong, had gathered in Admiral Hawthorne’s stark and rather cramped office. The Supreme Commander had called them there for a quiet drink: both as a tribute to their success, and to those they had lost in getting to this point. The war was won. Now, it was a time for reflection, for camaraderie… and for good-byes.
For Hawthorne, that was going to be difficult. Although Hawthorne had managed to keep a detached distance to most of his subordinates, this group – his inner circle, so to speak, and as it was informally known – were his friends, even confidants. They’d helped him win the war, either through their bravery, or their wisdom… or both. Garret, Hunter, Chisholm, Takagi, Numberi… The Commonwealth could never truly appreciate what these – and many more – had done.
The Bellerophon was currently sailing through the outer edges of Commonwealth territory, the gargantuan vessel escorted by a handful of smaller ships as it awaited the return of the last stragglers that had been engaged in long-range reconnaissance of N’xin territory. Within a day, it would start its voyage towards Elysium, for repair work and resupply.
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