A Call to Arms

by Bradley Hutchinson

  “If we leave those installations and garrisons in place, Captain,” Garret argued, “Then the N’xin will be able to use that manpower to rebuild their presence in this system… or use them against us in their next offensive.”

  Hunter considered this, his lips pursing as if sucking a lemon. He was silent for several long moments, staring into an abyss of his own making. Finally, he shrugged, his hologram wavering at the abrupt movement. “Objection withdrawn.”

  Takagi finally spoke up. “At least offer them a chance to surrender first. At least then we can say we tried.”

  “We all know what their answer is going to be,” Garret muttered darkly, and Numberi nodded his assent.

  “There’s only one way for this to play out,” Numberi concurred, his deep bass voice cutting through the vibrations from the engines. “I’d just as soon not waste our time – they know what’s coming, they have to.”

  Takagi shuffled silently. “Even so…” Takagi trailed off, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’d like to think we’re still a league above these creatures.”

  That comment drew some angry glances from Garret and Numberi, and Hawthorne smiled humourlessly, nodding at Shanthi, who promptly began issuing orders to take care of the ground-side bases. Hawthorne understood Hunter’s concerns – no one there was keen on the idea of blasting defenceless people from existence like tin cans lined up on a railing, alien or not.

  But the N’xin had never shown them any sort of mercy, so – as many had pointed out – it was not incumbent upon them to show the same. But I won’t allow us to stoop to their level of barbarism. There were many within the fleet who wouldn’t have batted an eye at glassing the entire planet, civilians and all. As long as Hawthorne was in charge, however, he would be the one to determine the line in the sand.

  “Ready the fleet, then,” Hawthorne ordered, turning back to gaze out of the viewports at the front of the bridge. “Prepare for battle.”

  *

  “You look like crap.”

  “Still better looking than you, then,” James bit back, smiling as he rose groggily from his bed in sickbay – he’d only been allowed to regain consciousness six hours ago, and he still felt like he’d been hit by a truck. “You know, if I’d had these same injuries a century ago, I’d have been in here for days… or even weeks.”

  “Or you’d have died.” David smiled. “I know, we really live in a golden age. How do you feel?”

  James took a moment to consider the question. “Almost human.” He stretched his arms out, taking in the antiseptically white and barren bay that he’d been recuperating in. There was a dozen more on this ward, but most of them were empty. “Where have they got you off to?”

  It had been forty hours since James had bene bought down to sickbay, and many of the wounded in the battle had been cleared out of the sickbay – but not all of them. The most critical of them had been shipped back to better equipped field hospitals; those that remained would, like James, probably spend the next day or so cooped up here.

  “The Forester and Task-Force Three. We’re taking care of a refuelling station in PJA-047. It’s vulnerable to a quick strike – few defenders, not much chance or reinforcements... Care to walk me to the shuttle-bay?”

  “Sure, if we go slowly.”

  David led James out of sickbay, which was located near middle of the prow of a Vanguard-class warship. This part of the ship was relatively undamaged – the same could not be said for the starboard side of the mighty warship, or the area around the bridge in the dorsal super-structure

  It was estimated to that it would take at least three weeks – probably longer, considering the number of ships needing attention – to repair the Vindicator and get her space-worthy again, so Admiral Hawthorne had made the Ravager his permanent flagship, relegating the Vindicator to being the eventual flagship of the Fourth Fleet once it returned to duty in the first weeks of 2438.

  “I was surprised at your objection to the orbital bombardment.”

  James looked at David Garret curiously as they strode down the narrow corridor towards the bank of turbolifts that would take them to the shuttle-bay down below.

  “It was more out of a belief that someone had to make the effort, at least for the record. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be accused of being as barbarous as the things I’m trying to wipe out.” James sighed. “And yes, I knew very well that the N’xin wouldn’t acquiesce to our demand for surrender. I felt that the effort still had to be made, though.”

  “What would you have done if they had surrendered?”

  The question brought James up short for a moment, and he scowled.

  “I… don’t know, David. I never considered it, because I didn’t think it would happen.” James looked unsettled. “If I’m honest with myself, a part of me would have wanted them wiped out anyway… it seems fitting, considering their butchery of the last thirty years but…” He shook his head. “My mother would have had a field day with that sort of admission.”

  David looked at James, who had gone quiet quite suddenly as he’d stopped in the middle of the corridor, his back rigid straight.

  “James?” David asked, looking back – he’d made it two steps further before realizing that James had stopped dead in his tracks.

  Shaking his head, James took a deep breath. “Sorry… even after all this time, talking about my mother…” He stepped up to David, and the pair resumed their walk, turning right at a T-junction. “In any case, I think we should just be grateful that the N’xin made it easy for us… so to speak.”

  David pondered that. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just rare to find your sort of… consideration… in circulation around here. Not after all these years of slogging through the trenches. Most people would vaporize them without looking back.” David nodded thoughtfully. “Why do you suppose our intelligence was so off about the strength of the N’xin presence in this system?”

  “I’m not sure,” James admittedly tiredly – this short trip was proving to be bothersome, and he was most unhappy about their intelligence being off – the diversionary attacks in other systems had been a success, the N’xin sending the appropriate forces to reinforce those fronts the Commonwealth were feinting at – a dozen ships to PGA-055; eight to the Telford system. “There were significantly more cruiser-class warships than our probes had indicated… to say nothing of that extra dreadnaught that we still can’t account for.” He frowned, a sudden thought occurring to him as they reached a turbolift.

  David keyed for a lift. “What?”

  James counted off on his fingers. “Assuming the N’xin didn’t just guess that we were aiming for Horus, that leaves three possibilities for the increased build-up. First, they themselves were preparing for a strike of their own, in which case, we just got very lucky. Second, they were tipped off about our attack, either by cracking our communications, or by a mole…”

  “Doubtful,” David said adamantly. “Otherwise they would have either reinforced Horus with more ships, or sacrificed the defences of some of our other targets to keep more ships here… hacking communications is for the techs to work out, anyway.” He paused. “And I flatly refuse to believe a human being would sell their species out to those vultures.”

  James nodded once. That was his belief as well. “Third, and this just occurred to me, those ships were not permanent additions to the garrison in this system, nor were they there to stage an attack.” The turbolift doors opened, and the two men entered the empty car, David keying in their location.

  “Well, if they weren’t permanent additions then… oh, you think they had a visitor.”

  James nodded. “If I’m right, then the number of ships would suggest it was a visitor of great importance.” He frowned. “Someone who we probably just killed.”

  “Their Overlord, do you think?” Their intelligence on the N’xin Hegemony was limited, but the Commonwealth knew that the N’xin leader was given the title of Overlord.

  �
�Or someone very close to the Overlord. One – or more – of his fleet commanders, perhaps.” James crossed his arms as he leaned against the back wall of the turbolift. “David, if I’m right – and we’ll probably never know, not for certain – we either just stopped the N’xin military in its tracks, or really pissed them off.”

  David smiled brightly, his blue eyes twinkling with genuine mirth. “Or both.”

  Chapter Six

  Troy Hunter had been so fixated on the view of the Citadel that he’d completely tuned out his sister-in-law. Despite living in the penthouse immediately above his twin, he had always thought that James had a better view of the city, and Troy often found himself daydreaming as he gazed out at the vast metropolis that reach from horizon to horizon.

  “What did you say?” he asked sheepishly, almost embarrassed at his lack of concentration.

  “I asked if you’d heard from James since last week.”

  Jennifer was wearing her hair much shorter these days – too short, in Troy’s opinion – and her eyes had started developing crow’s feet; the stress of being a soldier’s wife was finally taking its toll on the poor woman, overcoming her genetic conditioning that resisted aging. Troy had suggested a few times over the last few years that she see someone about a rejuvenation procedure, but Jennifer had refused, claiming she would do so once James had returned home to the family.

  “No,” he said. “Not since his message saying the doc’s gave him the all-clear to return to duty. I got a message from Sarah, though, but she hasn’t seen or heard from him either.” He shrugged. “I imagine his new responsibilities as an actual hero are keeping him occupied.”

  Ten years ago, Troy would have used the term hero disparagingly. Now, though, in light of all that James had been through, and accomplished, Troy almost had a sense of pride when he used the word… not that he’d willingly admit that, of course, least of all to James.

  James’ level of smugness would reach new heights if I did that.

  Jennifer, nursing a mug of coffee in front of her face, nodded sagely but remained silent. She hadn’t been her usual chatty self for… well, years, actually, now that Troy thought of it, but her melancholy had reached new levels of despondency in recent weeks, ever since her holiday to Elysium (to see James) had been cut short when he’d been whisked away to another theatre.

  The fear of becoming a widow had haunted her for some time, now. It had started off quietly, but was now threatening to engulf her, the longer James was gone, and not even yet another redecoration of her apartment – the third modernisation attempt in seven years – could distract her from her depression.

  “He’s fine, Jen,” Troy assured her hurriedly. “He’s working on board a dreadnaught – those things were designed to take a lot of killing.”

  She was silent as she looked past him into the vacant living room of her apartment; her twin girls had joined Adlai in going to the mall two blocks away almost an hour ago, leaving the parents alone. It had become almost a weekly ritual, this get together, and as Troy thought about it, he realized that Jennifer was becoming something of a best-friend… something he hadn’t had in quite some time.

  “You know, Troy, I should have asked for a divorce.”

  Troy, who had been in the midst of taking a sip of his own coffee, nearly sputtered, but years of getting surprised had taught him to mask it well. He stared at her intently for long seconds. In all these years, she’d never said a bad word about James, or about their marriage.

  “A lot of people would have,” he agreed softly. “Why didn’t you?” He knew why she wanted one, of course, and he knew that James had even suggested it when he’d decided to join the Navy; the same night that Jennifer had asked that they start a family. The resulting agreement between them had seen Jennifer essentially become a single parent, though Troy did his best to act as a father-figure for his nieces.

  She looked at him pointedly. “I honestly don’t know,” she said wistfully. “Maybe because I loved him too much. I still do, y’know… I could never not love himd. We had more than ten great years together before he got all… all… noble.” The word burst out of her like a curse, and was followed up by a sigh. “But this life isn’t why I got married, this isn’t why we decided to have children...”

  “You chose to do that after James said he wanted to sign up,” Troy reminded her, rather dangerously – it seemed like Jennifer was building up to an emotional explosion, and he didn’t want to be caught up in it.

  The look she gave him was frosty enough to halt a volcanic eruption in its tracks.

  “I’m well aware of that,” Jennifer said, her tone cold enough to freeze mercury. She cocked her head as she studied him. “Knowing then what I know now, maybe…” she trailed off and waved the thought off. “It’s your fault, you know.”

  The accusation hung in the air for a long moment. “How do you figure?” Troy wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.

  She wasn’t. “You beat James to the punch by deciding to have Adlai. I don’t think James would have agreed to start a family while he was undergoing Basic training if you hadn’t gotten the jump on him.”

  Troy blinked in surprise – he’d never thought of it that way. He and his twin had never been overly competitive with things in their lives – despite their physical similarities, they were two very different people, with different goals in life.

  “I had no idea James felt that strongly,” he admitted, unsure if that had been a naïve attitude to have. It wouldn’t be the first time I was naïve, or ignorant, about something. “But that’s not on me, Jen. You and James made your decisions on your own.”

  Jennifer scowled, sighing deeply. “I know that, Troy.” She smiled. “Really, I do. I’ve just… I thought about it, and I realized the other day that the life I’ve led for the last fifteen years is a lie, or a delusion. All this time, I’ve been thinking my husband would come home and we’d pick up from where we left off… But that isn’t going to happen, is it?”

  “It may yet happen,” Troy said. “Jen, you could spend years over-analysing this, second-guessing the decisions you’ve made. But it won’t change anything.” He nodded in the direction of the front door. “You’ve done an amazing job at raising those girls on your own. But if you’d divorced James when he signed up, you wouldn’t have those girls… and if you divorce him now, it’s not going to change anything, either. If anything, it’ll just reinforce the status-quo.”

  He kept silent on the fact that a divorce would probably destroy James – after all, his entire premise on fighting in the war was predicated on the belief that he was protecting his loved ones. While that would still be true, it meant that James would have no one to come home to.

  Jennifer arched an eyebrow. “I never said I was going to divorce him. I said I should have.” She sighed. “If I kick him out now, if I force a resolution to this détente, it would distract him, or destroy him. He doesn’t need that sort of distraction, not now. That will get him killed… I don’t want that, no matter how…. Frustrated… I am with him.”

  At least we’re on the same page, Troy thought wryly. “And what about when he comes home?”

  “If he comes home,” she amended, and then fell silent in contemplation. “I don’t know.”

  Troy mulled that over silently for a moment, then shrugged. James would be less than sanguine with Troy intruding into his marital affairs, and Troy certainly wasn’t comfortable with the concept either. “Just don’t rush anything, Jen.”

  He stood up and proceeded into the kitchen to deposit his mug in the sink. “I’ve got an appointment at the mansion, Jen, so I better hit the road.”

  She attempted a smile, but failed, so she merely nodded and escorted him to the front door, her arms crossed over her chest almost as a shield.

  “Are you going to the dinner dad’s hosting on the weekend?”

  “Probably, maybe,” Jennifer said absently. Troy suspected she’d forgotten about it. “We’ll see.”

&nb
sp; Troy smirked. It was, after all, the best answer he could expect out of her. He reached out an put his palm to the control pad next to the door; it whisked open silently.

  “Hang in there, Jen,” he said soothingly, reaching out with a hand to rub her shoulder tenderly – from this angle, and proximity, he could see just how genuinely tired she was, both physically and mentally. “At least you have me.”

  Jennifer barked out a hollow laugh as Troy crossed the threshold of the door.

  “Wait,” Jennifer called out, a hand snaking out and spinning him on his heel.

  “What –” he started to say but was silenced by her lips pressing against his. The kiss was sensuous and intense, punctuated by Jennifer pinning him against the wall as a finger traced the side of his face, drifting down from his side-fringe, down past his temple and finally trailing off under his jaw-line.

  The whole time – all six seconds of it – Troy just stood there, unsure how to proceed… for a start, it was his brother’s wife… secondly, she wasn’t even his type… and yet… and yet…

  And yet, what? Troy pondered the meaning behind this spontaneous bout of affection, and realized, rather quickly, it was a case of transference. She’s not kissing you, she’s kissing him.

  Just as suddenly as it had happened, it was over, Jennifer pulling back from him, her tongue tracing the bottom of her lip, her expression one of… disappointment? Regret? Both?

  “I’m sorry,” Jennifer said, sulkily shy. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “No, it’s okay,” he replied, diplomatically. They were silent for long moments after it, both adults taking stock of what had just transpired, and what it meant. “Jen… I’m not James. I could never hope to be.”

  She cocked her head to the side at him, arching an eyebrow at him. “I know, Troy, I know…” she breathed out violently. “I just… needed to do that. I needed to remember…” She shrugged helplessly. “I can’t explain the urge I just had, I –”