Distressed awakening

Dustin yawned. It was far too early the next morning for him to be awake; his discussions with Izzy both on personal and professional matters had carried on well into the night, along with ensuring the first group of scouts had gotten what could laughably be referred to as basic training on collecting Fractal remnants. Once they’d finished with all that, the away party had curled up in the bunks on the shuttle and fallen asleep - by that point, the largest parts of the debris field had de-orbited, and while there were still chunks of Fractal and human craft splashing down they were all small enough to just bounce harmlessly off the hull after the heat of re-entry.

What had awoken him from the nest he’d built with Rye and Bleu (leaving Yril’k to have a bunk all to herself and Defia to sit in the cockpit alone) took a moment to fully intrude on his consciousness. A dull, pulsing sound echoing from the speakers… Dustin sat upright, fully and fearfully awake as the alarm rose in volume.

Scrambling out of bed, his lovers glancing groggily around before staggering after him to the front of the shuttle, Dustin slid into the pilot’s seat and tapped the console. Almost immediately, the alert flared across the main screen - an all-ships alarm coming from Sola. Thumbing a button to silence it, Dustin hit the communicator and called home.

Emely had clearly been waiting - the instant he tried to put a call through, her face appeared on the screen. “Sir? You need to get back to the ship immediately.” Beside Dustin, Rye slid into the other seat and began pre-flight checks as she shook off the last of her sleep; whatever had triggered the alert, she wasn’t going to second guess a request to get back to Sola.

As the shuttle’s engines spooled up, Dustin gestured at Bleu who pulled out her tablet and began messaging whoever was monitoring comms at Izzy’s ground station to let them know about the departure. Returning his attention to the redhead, he asked the obvious question as their craft lifted off from the landing pad. “Emely, what’s going on?”

Ten minutes later, the shuttle slid into the docking bay. No sooner had it dropped into its moorings than Dustin pulled open the hatch and bolted for the bridge, Yril’k close behind. Emely’s answer had been simple, and terrifying. “We’ve gotten a distress call from Earth. The Durathisians are moving their fleets to attack.”

Skidding around the corner, Dustin dropped into the seat that Meli had just vacated, the science officer heading back to her own station while he took in the display showing the relative positions of the fleet. “Status?” he asked, wanting to check he was reading things correctly while the others arrived.

“We received the distress call a quarter-hour ago, husband. I’ve got the fleet to form up, with those that are not weave-capable after the fight remaining in orbit to assist with scanning for Fractal debris on the planet below while they complete repairs. We’d dispatched shuttle crews to the outer system to mine asteroids for material to help with resupply; they’re heading to the jump point and will meet us there to save time.” Meli’s voice was clipped and monotone; her ears locked into focused efficiency. “The call has gone out to all human vessels, husband, not just us. Axworth is pulling everything that your species has into the defence of Earth. No news yet as to how the rest of our friends are reacting.”

Dustin winced. “Thanks, Meli. Alright… Sammie, get us to the jump point. Emely, can you get me a line through to Earth while we’re in transit?”

Sola accelerated through the void as Axworth’s strained face flickered into view on the main screen a few moments later. “Dustin! You got the message?” The General’s voice was tired, a look of relief washing over his features as soon as Dustin nodded. “Damn good show. Every freight hauler from here to Jupiter’s forming a defensive line, and we’ve started evacuating folk from the outer orbitals back to the core worlds, but you’ve got most of our firepower with you. Damn Durathisians decided to try and catch us with our pants down.”

Reassuring the General that the fleet was already en-route, minus the vessels that had been lost in battle or were too damaged to make the series of transit jumps back to the glow of Sol, Dustin asked for more details than the emergency call for aid had given. Axworth’s response wasn’t good. “I don’t have much more to give you right now, Ambassador. Velca long range probes detected a massed Durathisian fleet moving out about four hours before the Durathisian high command made an announcement that the council had suspended our Proctor status. That’s an announcement which hasn’t been confirmed or denied by the council, for the record. I suspect those that aren’t our friends or enemies are hoping that once we’ve been thrown to the wolves they’ll be left alone so to speak.”

Dustin’s internal grimace must have shown on his face as the General continued. “What allies we have aren’t able to deploy because of the announcement. They’ve shut their borders to the Durathisians as it’s not a council fleet being used, which buys us some time - but there’s no cavalry coming there. As far as the… other option, we’ve had comms cut since the coup started. I’ve sent the emergency broadcast in a way that they should pick up on, but without a ship to go and check, we’ve no idea if there’ll be any help coming from there either.”

That caused Dustin to wince. Axworth was referring obliquely to the hidden Rabyth shipyard; humanity had been building a proper fleet in secret there from the moment Dustin had handed the codes over - but they’d focused on secrecy to the point that there were no direct communications with the facility. If humanities warships weren’t coming… “So it’s just us, General?” Dustin said, frowning. “Can you send us the specifics on the Durathisian fleet composition? And any updates we’ve got about their capabilities?”

Axworth nodded, promising to send through everything Earth had before signing off and leaving Dustin alone with his thoughts. After a moment, he grew aware of eyes on him and shook his head, looking around at the assembled crew. Meli and Emely’s gazes were full of concern for him, while the junior officers clearly were worried about what was to come. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his gaze. “Put me through to the fleet.”

A moment later, the vidscreen flickered as those ships that were returning to Earth acknowledged that the call was being patched through to all hands. Standing, Dustin walked towards the front of the bridge, knowing as he did so that the video-feed would track his movements. “Crew of the assembled research and science vessels. You are battered, bruised but still standing. Against tough odds, we’ve fought and defended our friends here. Some of you may have already heard that we have been called back to Earth urgently; how much information your Captains may have chosen to share may vary, so I wanted to address you all.”

Resting one hand on the back of Sammie’s seat, he paused, collecting his words before continuing. “We are humanity at her finest - researchers and travellers who are not afraid to fight to protect our friends and those we love. Well, it seems that the time to return to our mission of peaceful exploration is not yet upon us. We have received a distress call from Earth; the Durathisians are moving to assail our home. I will not lie to you and claim this will be an easy fight. They are warships, we are science craft. They are fresh, we are rushing to the defence of our species after a battle in which many of our brave friends lost their lives. But we will go none the less, because we are all that Earth has.”

Shifting his weight, Dustin looked directly into where he knew the camera would be and concluded his speech. “Those we left behind in Sol’s gentle light are already working to secure the system - but without your bravery and your strength, we cannot predict the outcome. I’m sorry to have to ask you to keep working hard and make repairs on the fly, but we have no time. Rye and the team here will continue to build the torpedoes we’ve just used to such great effect; listen to your officers, and officers keep in regular touch with myself and my senior staff. We fly to save our home - but not just to save our home. The Durathisians think they can knock us out quickly and in so doing secure their control over the galaxy. We’re going to show them just why fucking with humanity is a bad idea; we’ll defend our hearth, and from it will grow such a flame that will illuminate every ill those cowards have pressed upon the stars. We fly to protect Earth not as the end of our mission, but as the start of liberating the galaxy. For Earth!”

He’d not expected much in the way of response. It was off-the-cuff speaking, purely to explain to the tired and disheartened crews why they now had to keep working (and working while in transit too). But, one by one the indicators on the distant ships flicked from receive to transmit, and across the fleet a roar went up from the lowest janitorial technician to the most skilled captain. Not everyone aboard the human fleet had been born in the warm light of Earth’s star, but that didn’t matter. From Velca, Feliax, Rabyth or the half dozen other species that had since joined the human craft the same cry arose, echoing that of humanity. “FOR EARTH!”