Monthly Short Story for October: To Save Them All (Patreon)

Hello everyone! This is the story I wrote for the One-Shot Short Story Poll for October! I'll be posting more about the Monthly Short-Story Votes exclusive to the Commissioned Pioneer Tier, so please check that out for more information about monthly polls! :D 

“There’s no way we can save them all.” Talitha spoke, her voice echoing throughout the empty and vacant halls that were once used for ferrying cargo, resources, and an assorted number of paraphernalia that now seemed so completely trivial in the grand scheme of things.

“We can try.” Thomas shot back, his tone resolute, reverberating loud and true over the intercom which bridged the distance between the bridge of this herculean vessel, and the lone human engineer that was held up in the engineering deck, trying desperately to funnel every last scrap of power from the auxiliary systems in an attempt to push the vessel just that little bit faster in an attempt to reach the aliens in time.

Under normal circumstances the vessel would be ferrying nearly a hundred million tons of cargo. She was built as a vessel to bridge the gap between the intergalactic void, a superheavy hauler that would make economic sense for intergalactic trade. Smaller than the supermassive haulers that humanity constructed en masse in order to facilitate internal trade and the ferrying of materials for the rapidly growing megastructure projects of the UN, but far larger than the standard haulers which prioritized speed and maneuverability above carrying capacity and range. Indeed, the Endurance class of superheavy haulers was originally envisioned to bridge the gap between both extremes, but found more success in pushing forth humanity’s intergalactic trade networks and its soft power which kept most intergalactic polities on good terms with the UN.

Today however, the UNMS Valiant would be ferrying a far different type of cargo. Indeed, it had committed to a mission that had seen a loss of revenue and capital so extreme that if it wasn’t registered with the United Nations Merchant Fleet, it would’ve sunk even the largest of shipping companies within a matter of hours. For the UNMV Valiant was just one of a flotilla’s worth of vessels that had dropped everything mid-FTL, valuable cargo ranging from hyperchips to bulk antimatter, in order to be redirected right into the heart of a rapidly developing war. A war which had manifested within a matter of days, and now threatened the very survival of the Andromeda galaxy.

No one knew how the invaders, now dubbed the Aranids, arrived without warning. Nobody knew how to even react as Andromeda had, and always was a standoffish galaxy consisting of hermit kingdoms or outright isolationist empires. The UN had lukewarm relations with them, but only so far as to establish what was already known: that they wanted to be left alone, without trade or any advanced diplomatic relations.

There were no alliances with Andromeda. No mutual defense pacts, or even mutual aid pacts. As a result, when news broke of this intergalactic threat rapidly consuming the galaxy, few reacted. Most sent empty platitudes, whilst others simply ignored the new outright.

It was only humanity that answered the galaxy’s desperate pleas for help. It was only the United Nations and its vast merchant and independent fleets that decided to intervene.

And it wasn’t because of the promised riches or the deals it could gain from being the first in. Nor was it to gain some tactical advantage out of this tragedy.

It was because it was the right thing to do. Indeed, it was a matter of integrity as much as it was a matter of fulfilling the constitutional obligations of an idealist nation.

For no other nation in the known galaxy had entrenched such lofty ideals into its founding principles. No other nation would dare to enshrine something so flighty such as the United Nations’ Universal Rights of all Sapient Entities.

Many doubted if the UN would even be able to uphold such a lofty obligation when push came to shove.

This mission, and the hundreds of thousands of others like it happening at this very second, would put those doubts to rest once and for all.

“Tom, we’re not ready for this.” Talitha warned over the intercoms. “We’re not a passenger liner, we can’t just take in our entire cargo capacity’s worth of refugees.” She reiterated.

“I know. But we’ll do the best we can. That’s all we can do. We have an oath to uphold don’t we?” Thomas shot back. “We just need to push forward, we just need to do the best we can with what we have. Food and water? Sure, we don’t have it, but when we jump back to the rendezvous point resupply ships will come with food, water, and medical assistance. What I’m really worried about is life support.”

“If we fill her up to capacity, we’ll be good for 2, maybe 3 days. We weren’t designed for this, heck, I nearly broke her trying to redirect life support to the cargo bays from the habitat module.” The engineer shot back, only to elicit a short, vocal approval from the Captain.

“That’s good enough for me. Rendezvous is about 2 days away, we can make it.” Thomas spoke, as a series of pings alerted him to the upcoming destination.

“Alright, we’re about to exit hyperspace, hold on to your hats, this is going to be a rough one…”

The scene he was met with was nothing short of apocalyptic. Tens of thousands of ships burning in orbit, from transport shuttles to dreadnoughts alike, hundreds of thousands of distress calls jammed the airwaves and subspace comms as the voices of millions called out and cried for help that might never come in the dark unforgiving vacuum of space.

They say that in space, no one can hear you scream. Thomas however wished to bring whoever coined that phrase to listen through each and every one of the frequencies bursting to the brim with the cries of the desperate and dying.

The shock lasted for a good few seconds, but Thomas was soon snapped out of it by a series of pings relayed from one of the many human ships present that was attempting to make sense of the carnage.

The IFF indicator surprised him, even shocked him to an extent as he saw an identifier only few amongst the merchant fleet had the privilege of seeing with their very own eyes.

“This is the UNEF Carrier-Dreadnaught Dauntless do you copy?” A gruff, intimidating voice came through the comms.

“Dauntless, this is the UNMV Superheavy-hauler Valiant, I read you loud and clear.” Thomas responded, his voice cracking in excitement at the tail end of that announcement, but eliciting nothing but a stone cold response, from the other end of the commline.

“Valiant, there’s no easy way to put this, you’re the only superheavy we have in the fleet. Now, we’re going to do everything we can to hold out for the rest of the merchant fleet, but as it stands you’re the only hope for the populous of Celosos III.”

The severity of the situation suddenly dawned on Thomas. Prior to this, he thought he understood what was at stake, but similar to the oaths he swore years ago or the emergency instruction guidelines he’d memorized to heart it had always been something intangible. He knew of the stakes, but never before did he feel it. It was only now, presented with the pleas of the desperate and the reassertions of his responsibilities, that he fully understood what he had to do.

“I understand that, Dauntless. I’m ready to do whatever it takes. Just give the word.” Thomas spoke over comms, which prompted an immediate transfer of maps and telemetries that sent his heart racing.

“Valiant, we’re going to need you to go in-atmo. There’s a spaceport that’s relatively untouched by the invading Aranids, but we don’t have much time before it’s overrun. Now, we’ll have fighter escorts and a few corvettes that can-”

“Dauntless. You know a superheavy isn’t designed to land in-atmo correct? Let alone a commercial grade spaceport? You’re having us land on a strip made for civilian grade liners a tenth of our size. We’d take up the whole damned spaceport!” Thomas shouted back, which elicited a sharp, terse response from the other ship.

“If you aren’t ready to commit then I’ll wait for someone else who can.” The other Captain snapped back. “Listen, Valiant, the fact of the matter is I’m losing a corvette a minute here while waiting for rescue. My mission is to make sure every single civilian is off that rock before we pull out, and I’m committed to carrying out the duties I swore when I put on this uniform. My question to you now is: are you willing to do the same?”

Those words shook the merchant captain to his core. Memories of his time in the academy, in his cadet years, all the way through to his oath-taking when he put on the uniform and felt the weight of his bars on his shoulders for the very first time… he thought he knew what it meant to feel the weight of command on your shoulders, to feel the responsibilities of leadership weighing down on you. But he knew that up until this point, he was only paying lipservice to the very notion of leadership, responsibility, and let alone his oath.

His heart raced, as he took a firm breath, before responding in kind. Not with words at first, but with the 10 kilometer behemoth of a ship changing its trajectory towards the planet below. “I swore the same oath as you, Dauntless.” Thomas spoke, as he expertly avoided debris field after debris field, the few pieces that struck his vessel gently bouncing off of its deflector arrays. “I swore to devote my life in the defense of the United Nations of Earth and Luna.” He continued, his eyes deadset on the trajectory laid out before him as he saw ten corvettes flanking his sides. They flew in unison, without any deviation save for the occasional bump as debris fields tossed and turned around them.

“To defend the constitution and charter of Earth-” His breath remained steady, even as he saw the first corvette blown up beside him by enemy fire.

“-and the universal rights of all sapient entities.” His hands never once deviated from his controls, as each movement came unnervingly natural to him, maintaining that first lesson taught all those years ago in the flightdecks of simulators and training craft alike: making sure the spacecraft was not just a beast under your reigns, but an extension of your very body.

“From the halls of the secretariat building-” He continued, his voice never once deviating from its unwavering tone and intensity, as the clouds of the planet gave way to the ruined city below, reduced to flames and rubble.

“-to the furthest reaches beyond the Milky Way-” The ship creaked and moaned under the intense pressures of atmospheric flight, the anti-gravity systems effectively being the only thing to keep it from breaking apart as its shadow practically blanketed the city below, and heralded distant cheers and excited cries for help from the spaceport just beyond the mountainous hillside.

“-no undertaking will be too great-” The corvettes began breaking formation, as enemy aircraft and spacecraft alike began targeting the massive hauler as it made its final approach towards that spaceport…civilians and military personnel alike struggling to make the final arrangements as aircraft after aircraft was pushed and flung off the runway to make room for approaching behemoth.

“-and no call will be too far as-” One after another alarms began crying out, as if the ship itself was crying out in abject pain of being pushed to its very limits until finally they made touchdown. A huge swath of dust and debris pushed what little was left of the grounded aircraft to the wayside, as the apartment-sized cargo bay doors opened up to reveal stadium-sized empty cargo holds that had once ferried shipments of unimaginable worth. All having long since been jettisoned into space at the start of this journey.

Thomas halted his speech as he now closely monitored the crowds of aliens rushing onto the ship. Their disorderly chaos was only defused by the human military personnel on the ground who waited until the last minute before boarding themselves. What would have been a stampede of bodies leading to untold deaths, delaying their departure and extending it by untold hours, was reduced to a mere quarter of an hour by the valiant efforts of those few brave human souls who volunteered for advanced forward scouting duty, risking their lives for the very oath that Thomas was bound to.

A quarter of an hour was all they had however as the window of opportunity to leave was rapidly closing. The swath of enemy ships that had been preoccupied by the corvettes were now making their way toward the hauler, and as the last of the corvettes slipped away from view, presumably to a fiery demise; Thomas began the launch sequence as everyone within the massive cargo holds held on for dear life.

The ship’s massive engines roared to life, pushed to their absolute limits as a good fraction of subluminal speeds were reached, rendering the spaceport below and the pursuing fleet burnt to a crisp. It took less than 10 seconds before they were back in orbit, and in those ten seconds component after component failure plagued the engineering deck, as Talitha screamed to no end at the recklessness of Thomas’ quick actions.

“Good job, Valiant.” Thomas heard over the comms, as the Dauntless hailed him again, even as the battle shifted back and forth between the human and the opposing forces’ favors.

“I was only fulfilling my oath, Dauntless.” Thomas replied proudly.

“How many on board?” Came a question which prompted the merchant captain to triple check his manifest.

“217,934.”

“And did you make sure all of our boys got on board safely as well?”

“Yes. All of the advanced scouting parties are accounted for.”

“Good. Then your job is done here. Go, Valiant. Your battle’s half over. But mine has just started.” The dreadnought’s Captain spoke as a sharp spike of energy rocketed across a number of Thomas’ sensors.

The man was activating the tachyon cannon, and that meant it was time for him to make his leave.

Without much fanfare, and without much argument from Talitha in engineering, the UNMV vanished from view. A shadowy dark visage taking hold of its entire form, blanketing it as it moved without truly moving, before finally, it disappeared from all sensors.

In a matter of seconds, 217,934 lives were saved from assured death.

Thomas finally made his way from the bridge, taking the 20 minute long trek from the command deck all the way down to the cargo hold where tens of thousands of refugees and soldiers were now sheltered. As he entered and waded through the crowd, a small alien child approached him, grabbing him by the sleeves of his uniform, and looking on at him with a look of equal parts confusion, disbelief, and gratitude.

“Why… why did you come for us? There was no one else who would come… why did you?”

It was at this point that Thomas believed it was as good as a time as any to finish recounting his oath, as he smiled warmly at the child, kneeling down to her level.

“It’s my duty to preserve the dignity of all sapient life, at any possible cost.”