by Trevor Wyatt
New Washington is one of the most Earthlike of the colony worlds, a real showcase of urban and agricultural planning. There used to be a city on Earth called Brasilia, the capital of the old South American nation Brazil. It was built in the jungle from the ground up and was supposed to be a shining example of modernity.
It almost worked. Brasilia ended up like most cities of the time: a combination of magnificent civic structures and poverty-stricken neighborhoods you wouldn’t want to walk in at night. As an observer commented at the time, “Nothing dates faster than people's fantasies about the future.”
But I must admit they’ve done a helluva job here on New Washington. This star system is the hub of trade routes linking the Inner Core and the Farther Reaches, which are the regions beyond the Outer Colonies, the old limits of Terran-controlled space, to Sonali territory and the inhabited systems beyond. It’s a genuine gateway world, an economic and political powerhouse in the fastest growing sectors of space in the Union, and it needs to look like one.
Given its clement climate, New Washington is perfectly suited to be an interstellar showpiece, which it is; but it has paradoxically become the most industrialized of the colony worlds.
What I see from my window on the 115th floor is an unbroken stretch of spires and towers. New Washington is the only city on the planet – mainly because the city takes up most of the available land on the planet. The city builds up as it builds out, and commerce and industrialism reign no matter which way you look. From space it looks like a glittering white jewel in a setting of green. There is nothing like it anywhere in the galaxy.
I see a Wesallian yacht pass majestically overhead. The Wesallians are but one of the 97 races of extraterrestrials we have met in the past eight years since First Contact with the Sonali. I can’t say we know any of them as well as we know the Sonali—a knowledge born of war, of course, so I’m glad we haven’t gotten to know the others that way. Our scientists have lifetimes of information to parse and study. Advanced medical knowledge and improved FTL travel are only two of the areas that have seen enormous development. The corpers are delighted, too, because vast new markets have opened up for them, leading to untold wealth.
All in all, the Union is seeing peaceful days, for the most part. Oh, there are a few border skirmishes, the odd uprising here and there, and there are always pirates that need to be dealt with, but overall, old dogs like me haven’t got a lot to do these days.
Which is why I’m here on New Washington, pushing papers and pressing the flesh as a diplomat. It’s not a position I enjoy, but I suppose I’ll get used to it in time.
My door chimes and I turn to see Admiral Jeryl Montgomery walking in.
“Hello, Admiral!” I say. We shake hands warmly. “Jeryl, it’s good to see you.”
“Thanks, Howard,” he says. I know he’s still a little bit uncomfortable using my given name, but I’ve insisted. I still outrank him, but not by a lot. We’re at the upper levels of command, we two, and we shared campaigns and heartbreak all through the war. We’ve been through too much together not to use first names—in private, anyway.
“How's Ashley?” I ask, taking a couple of glasses and a bottle of genuine Kentucky bourbon out of my desk.
I ask this while I pour. I know the answer, because I make it my business to keep tabs on both of them. But I’m drawing him out.
He takes a healthy drink before replying. “She’s Captain Gavin now, serving aboard the Seeker,” he says, and then sighs. “It happens to be in orbit around New Washington right now, so we’ll have some time together before she has to ship out. We don’t see each other very often these days, I’m afraid.”
“Sorry to hear that, son.”
“Thanks. It’s put a strain on the marriage.”
“Do you ever think of having children?”
He laughs, and I detect a rueful tinge to it. “I don’t think that’s in the cards for us, unless we do it by surrogates, and then who’d be raising the kids?” He shrugs. “Hired help. That’s not how we’d want to do it. Anyway, we’ve got time to think about it.”
I make a noncommittal noise that hides the stab of pity I feel for him. I know how hard it is to maintain a life when you’ve dedicated your life to serving your race. Now I'm learning the bitterness that comes with no longer being needed in that capacity. But I won’t tell him about that. He’ll find out for himself, one day.
“So tell me about the negotiations,” I say. I know he’s been working tirelessly this past year to create what is being called a Galactic Council. It’ll receive a formal name once it gets out of orbit. These years after the war have seen such an increase in trade and contact with other races that a special body needs to be created to oversee it all, as well as the immigration of aliens into the Union. There are, after all, many worlds in Union-controlled space that are unsuitable for human colonization—too hot, too cold, what have you—but perfect for the needs of non-humans. We have no objection to them developing our unused real estate, but we need to keep an eye on what they’re doing. Jeryl’s nascent council is designed, in part, to fill that need. A great many people are excited about it.
For the first time, he smiles. “I think they’re going quite well,” he says. “Quite well.”
I pour us some more bourbon, as we seem to have finished the first round. “I’m pleased to hear you say that.” And I am; not so much for the council itself, though it will be a great help, but for him.
“Thank you,” he says. “The final papers should be ready for signing within a fortnight, standard time.” He swirls the liquor in his glass. “You know, Howard, sometimes it seems to me as if it was only last week that we met the Sonali. And then discovered the Nakra. And all the others.”
I nod. “Our lives have changed, in ways we never could have imagined. Ten years ago we were alone in the universe, as far as we knew.”
“We’ve learned a great deal since then,” I say. “I like to think that we have matured as a species.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps. I agree that both we and the Sonali recognized the errors of our ways. Neither side was entirely good, or bad. I didn’t see that for a long time.”
“If we hadn’t unmasked what the Nakra had done, then Lord only knows what might have happened…that day.” For their trouble, Nakra space has been cordoned off. We’ve set robot stations to patrols its limits, warning off would-be intruders. No one wants anything like that to happen again.
“Enough happened,” Jeryl says, biting off his words. I know he feels personally responsible for much of what happened, though I have assured him more than once that it wasn’t his fault.
If anything, Jeryl is a hero. The man who first met the Sonali. Who led some of our greatest campaigns against them. Who defended his people. Who uncovered the secret of who destroyed The Mariner. And then…the man who ended the war.
Every time I close my eyes I still see the day that Jeryl brought The Seeker in the middle of the Sonali and Terran fleets. Said that he would not fire on the Sonali planet. Shared his scans of the Nakra.
It took the Terran captains in our fleet by surprise. They were ready to bring down The Seeker. But then everyone was surprised when the Sonali powered their weapons down. After all, the Nakra had admitted that they had guised themselves as Sonali.
I remember receiving the Planetary Legate from the Sonali side on my flagship. We had arranged a cease fire right there.
Six months later, a formal declaration of cessation of hostilities ushered the way for peace. Two months later, I was promoted and stationed on New Washington.
To think, all of this could have been avoided.
If anyone is truly to blame, it’s the Nakra, not Jeryl. But his guilt and frustration galvanized his determination to create this Galactic Council, where representatives from each species will be invited to air any grievances, raise issues, and try to solve their problems through words, not conflict. It’s a worthy goal, an attempt to make something new in galactic history, as far as we
can determine. It’s the first step toward a unified galaxy, and I’m proud that humans are spearheading it.
Jeryl, in fact, has spent most of the last year on Sonali Prime, working directly with our old enemies, who are proving to be good friends after all. But he has transferred here now because of his work to make the council a reality.
He grins now, and I see some of the tension come out of him. It makes me want to put an arm around him, but I won’t do that, of course. It would make both of us rather uncomfortable. I have to show my affection in subtler ways.
“I’m glad you’ll be around more often,” I say. “I’ve found a couple of good fishing spots that I’d like to show you.”
“I’d love to go. I could use a break from all the people.”
“Eh?”
“It’s just that it’s a little odd for me to see so many humans around, after spending so much of my time on Sonali Prime.”
I grunt. “I see more aliens than humans, these days.”
“Time has changed!” He drains his glass. “Got to go, sir; I have yet another meeting. It’s been good to see you.”
We shake hands once more. “Come by any time,” I tell him.
“Count on it.” He flashes that grin again, and then he’s gone.
I turn back to the window. What a view!
I can see the future from here. It looks bright.
Explore The Pax Aeterna Universe
Pax Aeterna is the name of the science fiction universe created by Trevor Wyatt.
It explores humanity as it explores and grows in its journey into the stars, taking its place amongst other species in the universe.
The series will feature around human conflicts internally, as well as those externally.
Below you will find a short story, the Mariner, that explores more of the Pax Aeterna Universe.
After that, learn more of the universe with an excerpt from the Encyclopdia Galactica.
The Mariner
Chapter 1
"No, I'm not going to agree with you just because you know you're getting on my nerves," I groan at Jrelo, the mechanic who believes he will win an argument with his First Officer just because he can practically see the stress headache he's giving me.
"Rina, you would have a much easier time if you just relented." He shoves his food to the side and and picks at it, looking into the bottom of our mess trays, only bothering to look up at a me after this ridiculous suggestion. "What do you care about an accelerator spare charge when you know we've stocked plenty of replacements?" His eyes narrow with the laughter rising in his throat. The inhuman sound of AI that doesn't need to breathe mimicking a laugh at the pleasure derived from taunting me? I mean, I've come to love Jrelo as part of my crew but I can't help but shudder a little at the odd sound. But then again, I can’t believe that the AI is pretending to eat, either. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve asked before. What’s with the food? What’s with the laugh? His answer? To put his shipmates at ease. Plus what else is he going to use his credits for if he can’t use the molecular resequencer to make a tasty treat that he isn’t going to eat?
Jrelo looks normal, he's more than a functional member of our crew, and he's a better mechanic than the last fool we had. I even kind of enjoy that he's taunting me now...though neither of us will admit. I keep the cringe off my face when he laughs and find myself smiling instead.
Then, well...that's when Davan shows up.
"If Rina wants every stock piece operational, you know she's right." Davan's words sound terse, however, and there's no hint of mirth in his voice. He's interrupting because there's something of note that he needs to say.
I swallow my smile and put a more professional face on. I know I'm overcorrecting because, come on, how wrong is it that my captain is what gets the seat of my uniform sticky every night? I don't want to feel that way. I don't even necessarily agree with him on many things, not having been an Earthborne and having his expansionist philosophy driving him. I'm a colony baby and because of that, well, I have more of a duty-first perspective rather than thinking homeworld first. I have nothing much I cling to as I didn't come from Earth or have much of an attachment to my home colony, and that's why I'm on this crew. I am attached to doing my duty, serving Earth in the Armada, and serving on this ship allows me to do just that. Davan clings to honor and a hope for something recaptured, gained stronger. That's why he's hear and like that's why I probably can't stop thinking about him when I'm in my bunk.
I know, I know, but you should see him right now.
He's tall, even for an Earthborne human, easily many inches about six feet. His broad shoulders are part of a solid frame of masculinity. His muscles are highlighted in his uniform. Davan's got a chiseled jaw sharper and more defined than some of the complex machinery that keeps us flying in space. He's got a voice that will make your stomach heat up just hearing it. Of course, I try to never let on that I notice any of these things. I have a job to do, a job that I do very well under him.
Yeah, I just don't actually get under him...because that would be wildly unprofessional. Also, given the chance, I might want to do all manner of wild things to Davan that would make showing up for work the next day hard, and not just because I'd hopefully have difficulty walking.
I shake my head, clearing out the mess of thoughts, and trying to ignore how my eyes want to wander on Davan as I can tell he's considering something. "Has there been an issue with our current course?" I ask, knowing we've haven't had to deal with any unpleasant Outer Colony factions in quite some time. Calling our work uneventful seems unfair, but the truth is that there's quite a bit of paperwork and communicating back to Armada Command to our work. Galactic bureaucracy has to be conducted by someone, I suppose, and we all enjoy our jobs.
Davan's lips purse for a moment as he inhales. "No, but there's an odd reading." He sits at the head of the table, lifting the fork to his own plate and taking a few bites, swallowing some of his rations, before continuing. "Rina, we'll be investigating whatever these readings might indicate. You are to redirect our course to conduct this inquiry."
"Yes, Captain," I say, nodding to him. I want to ask a thousand questions because, well, we never have readings that are anything but normal. I pause and look at him.
The faraway look in his eyes and the way his empty hand is tensed into a fist tells me that Davan's ready for action.
"What do you think it is?" I go ahead and ask.
"I think we have to investigate to find out what it is," Davan says, his voice deadpan.
I swallow, and he watch Davan's fist open and his head shake. "But it could be more future colonies. It could be...other life in the galaxy."
"Wow," I say. "Davan, do you think it really could be? I mean, based on the number of years we've been exploring and expanding, and no one has found anything yet..."
Bringing his fork to his face, Davan shrugs, but I know he's not as nonchalant as he seems. "It seems possible. Perhaps even probable."
Jrelo, who attends crew dinner with a full tray despite not eating, stands up. "I guess I will get to replacing one of plenty of replacement parts following this investigation. Probability could indicate other biological sentient lifeforms, or it could be simple machine error in your readings. Where are the abnormal readings coming from?"
I press several buttons to engage the commscreen to pull up recent data in here, and Davan swipes in his finger so biometrics can access his panel. "This nebula," he indicates far corner of a very expansive galactic map. "So we will stop off to replace any parts at Edoris Station, spare or otherwise, that need it, because we're going far."
I don't have the need for any smug satisfaction at the moment, however, because I'm too intrigued by the possibilities. Other life in the galaxy!
Chapter 2
Rina Sanders is an efficient first officer. She looks around the table, wanting to go chart us a new course, but finishes her meal. I know Rina doesn't want to appear over eager. That's probably a natural reaction she has to
having been one of the youngest first officers in the Armada, always wanting to remain professional to a fault. Still, a pushy AI mechanic, me the stoic captain, and a bubbly crew of fifteen people who haven’t had shore leave for at least three months meant that despite her rigidity, Rina was just too good at her job to not acclimate briskly.
I recommended her for the position because I wanted someone hungry to do well. Rina was born on a colony. She's the realized potential of the post-nuclear war space expansion that was necessary for all of humanity.
In the early days of the post-nuclear horror, when those with money fled the Earth, they dreamed of a day when their progeny would roam the stars. When the pursuit of science would outweigh that of survival.
Well, it took at least a hundred years, but people followed. Oh, they followed. First the well-off. Then those looking for a new life. And they brought back and sent home resources.
And the Homeworld rebuilt itself.
But none of these thoughts keeps me from laughing at how, the instant the colony borne is out of the dining bay, there's an extra jaunt in her step.
"Discovery of additional lifeforms," Jrelo interrupts my thoughts with a dispassionate drawl, "would lead to a commended success on your record, assuming you can utilize and report the data. Do you then believe you will accept a prestigious but non-active role in New Washington? Or even Earth?"
"As if," Mandy, one of the crew, says with a spoonful of carb ration in her mouth. "They'll never take Davan's ship away from him." She grins at me. "Isn't that right?"
I sigh, losing my appetite and wanting to shuffle off to CNC as much as Rina wanted to. "Not if I still have a say in it," I answer honestly. I scratch the back of my neck. "But we're all talking about something that hasn't happened yet. Ever. So it is pretty cocky to assume we're going to do it."
"How much information have you shared with Command?" Kevo asks. He is another member of the crew, and because I make it a habit to be on a first-name basis will all of my crew, I know that he's got schemes in mind already.
