The Uneasy Silence

There were too many things left unresolved. Out here, where there is only silence and the hours drag, there is little else to do, except think. When you look out on that vast infinity of stars out there, there is too much time to sit and brood on what might have been. Looking out on the stars from the observation station, you are looking back in time, on stars whose light takes thousands, millions of years, to arrive here. So it is hard not to think of the past and all that went wrong.

There are those who said we were wrong to flee. They said we should have made a stand, fought, right down to the last human. They say the Breth Empire will not stop at the edge planets, like Far York which was once our home. They say the Breth will conquer and slaughter until there are no humans left, not even back on Earth.

Others wonder though if they will stop. That it might be us who are the expansionist ones and the Breth response is taken through fear and that it is they, the Breth, who are under threat from our expansionism.

The truth is, no-one knows the answer. So we flee in front of them. Our fleet growing into an armada as more and more refugees from more and more planets and systems join with us. All fleeing, all leaving their homes behind for the starving Breth to devour into their expanding empire.

If this is not war now, then it will become war soon. Already we receive reports of the starships, battlecruisers and other great warships, from all the human systems coming together a few systems away, ready to take the battle to the Breth.

Some cheer and punch the air, saying it being about time and that those alien motherfuckers are in for a surprise and it will all be over by Christmas.

Others of us, like me, sit up here in silence and look at the stars and wonder how many wars like this their light has illuminated. How many thousands will have to die before some sort of uneasy tense solution is dragged out of the war-weary civilisations, who have no choice in the end but to learn to live with each other.

 

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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