The Sunfire

by Mike Smith

  “Oh,” the Admiral almost seemed disappointed.

  “But there is something very unusual about it,” the officer was quick to add.

  “Unusual how?” Sterling inquired, intrigued.

  “It’s broadcasting an Imperial Fleet distress signal, but Admiral how is that possible? The Imperial fleet has been disbanded for over half a decade.”

  “Indeed,” Sterling replied sitting up straighter. “This requires immediate investigation. Signal the rest of the fleet and notify them we are going to be getting underway immediately.”

  “All of them?” Captain Harrison inquired aghast. “For one distress signal?”

  “Indeed, the entire fleet.” Sterling confirmed with a nod. “Last thing I want to do is get separated. You youngsters would just end up getting lost and I would have to waste my time looking for you all. Indeed we all go. At the same time signal the fleet to go to an alert status.”

  “Uh what?” The Captain replied, terribly confused. He felt like he was falling behind on current events. “Why? It’s only a distress call.”

  “Always be prepared Captain, remember that. Always be prepared. It could be—pirates? Yes. Pirates. A pirate attack would be a good reason for a distress signal.”

  “Of course Admiral,” Harrison replied, looking at Sterling as if he had completely lost his mind.

  “Chop, chop. Let’s get underway. Otherwise the pirates might get away. Lay in a course for Tartarus in the Sigma Draconis System and bring the FTL drives on line.”

  Captain Harrison narrowed his eyes. He had the distinct feeling he was being played. As he could not remember anybody telling Admiral Sterling the distress signal was coming from that system.

  So how did he know?

  *****

  The chime from the communications console next to his bed woke Sterling from a very pleasant dream. Hence in a very un-Admiral like voice, he slapped his hand on the console and in a rough voice replied, “This had better be urgent otherwise I will have you shot. Twice.”

  “Hello Frank. Long time no speak. How are you keeping?”

  Admiral Sterling shot straight up in bed, nobody had called him by his first name since he was at the academy, and that voice—but it was impossible.

  “I thought that you were dead.”

  “That was the idea Frank. I wanted to enjoy my retirement, in peace and quiet.”

  Meanwhile Sterling was rapidly trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes and get his brain into gear. “So after all this time, why call now?”

  The voice, and it was only a voice. Sterling had checked. Sighed. “I need a favour Frank.”

  “You. A favour. I don’t think so. The number of times that you almost got me killed.”

  The voice sighed again, but deeper this time, before replying, “I was hoping you would not be difficult about this, but very well. I’m calling in my markers.”

  “Your what?” Sterling demanded, aghast.

  “You owe me Frank, and you know it.”

  Sterling bit his teeth together in frustration, before letting out a breath. “What do you need?”

  “Your fleet.”

  “You cannot be serious,” Sterling laughed.

  The voice on the channel went silent.

  “You are. You must be joking, I cannot just waltz off with the 12th fleet. Any deployment orders must come directly from the Senate. What’s this about anyway?”

  “Sofia Aurelius is in trouble. She was just kidnapped from Memphis. I have identified the ship that took her. It belongs to the Tyrell Corporation. They are taking her to Tartarus in the Sigma Draconis System. I cannot help her, not there, but you can. Radec is already on his way, but he needs your help.”

  Sterling was astonished. As far as he was aware Sofia was safely back in the Senate and Radec was dead. But if what this man said was true, and what he already knew of this man, he did not doubt him for a second. Sofia was like a daughter to him. If she was in trouble then he had to help. “There is nothing that I can do,” Sterling sighed deflated. “I need Senate authorisation to deploy for combat operations.”

  The voice on the line was quiet for a moment before it suggested, “But what about training manoeuvres.”

  Admiral Sterling, Commander of the 12th fleet went silent, deep in thought.

  *****

  “We are coming out of FTL now Admiral,” Captain Harrison reported.

  “Very well,” Sterling replied. “Secure from FTL and signal the fleet to await orders. What are the external sensors showing?”

  “Fuck me,” the Tactical Officer breathed aloud in disbelief.

  “Lieutenant. I will not accept such profanity on my bridge!” Sterling roared. “Now could you possibly be a little more specific?” He added after a moment’s hesitation.

  “Where to start Admiral?” The Tactical Officer complained. “I am detecting multiple ships in orbit. Many of them seem to be disabled or at least heavily damaged. Sensors are picking up one Titan defence station, heavily damaged and looks disabled. The second Titan station is—gone.”

  “Let’s keep focused on what is still here,” Sterling replied testily.

  “I am detecting multiple weapons fire, fifty kilometres dead ahead. Sensors are detecting a light cruiser, a destroyer and four frigates in close formation. They are all broadcasting Tyrell Corporation ship registries. They seem to be shooting at—Admiral the ship that they are chasing is broadcasting an Imperial Navy recognition code. It’s authenticated. Identification the Sunfire.”

  Sterling scratched his cheek, wondering where he had heard that name before. “Try and hail the ship,” he ordered.

  The view screen came to life showing two stunned officers in Imperial Navy uniforms staring at the view screen in disbelief.

  “Admiral Sterling?” The younger man exclaimed, shocked.

  “Commander Radec, what a surprise to see you here,” Sterling replied, obviously not surprised in the least. “And is that Captain Harrington I recognise standing beside you? Well, this is certainly an old Navy reunion.”

  “Admiral our ship has taken heavy damage,” Jon interrupted whatever else Sterling was going to say. “We are in the process of abandoning ship via shuttlecraft. We need your help to protect the shuttles. The Imperial Princess is on board one with her father.”

  Sterling just whistled aloud in amazement. “All you need is Admiral Harkov to turn up and we would have the old family back together.” Blinking away his surprise, Sterling turned to Captain Harrison. “Launch fighters. Order them to intercept and escort those shuttles back to the fleet.”

  “Yes Admiral,” the Captain hurried over towards the Operations Officer to ensure his orders were carried out.

  Turning back to the view-screen Sterling replied, “Done. What about yourselves?”

  “You are too far away to assist us, Admiral. The warships are almost in range of their guns. Now that you are here we will also abandon ship.”

  “Very well. I’ll contact the Tyrell fleet and try and get them to back off, but I’m not holding my breath. You seemed to have kicked over a hornet’s nest over there.” At the nod of acknowledgement from Jon, the view-screen shutoff.

  “Get me whoever is in command of that flotilla,” Sterling ordered his Communications Officer.

  The view-screen once again came alive, but this time the man was dressed in the black and silver uniform of the Tyrell Corporation.

  “This is Admiral Sterling of the Confederation 12th fleet, I am ordering you to withdraw. Now,” Sterling instructed.

  “This is internal company business, nothing to do with the Confederation Navy. Stay clear,” The officer replied angrily before the view-screen once again cut off, leaving an angry, red-faced Admiral.

  “Damn the arrogance of the man. Captain!” Sterling yelled.

  Recognising the expression on the face of his Commanding Officer Harrison quickly added. “Admiral, by Senate decree we are not permitted to get involved in corporate actions, not unless we are
fired upon first.”

  Sterling just stared at Harrison furiously for a few moments before turning back to the helm officer. “Very well. Plot an intercept course between the Imperial warship and the pursuing flotilla. Put us between the two.”

  Harrison just gaped at the Admiral. “You cannot do that sir.”

  Tapping the five silver stars on his lapel, Sterling replied. “These say I can do almost anything I like, and if the Tyrell ships continue shooting then they are shooting at us and I can do whatever the hell I like. Sound general quarters, flank speed ahead.” As Sterling turned his back to Harrison he added quietly. “Now the fleet can get some real training.”

  *****

  Jon and Paul just looked at each other in shock when the view screen cut off, leaving them, once again, alone on the bridge of the Sunfire.

  “Looks like there is no need to draw lots,” Paul broke the silence on the bridge.

  “I wonder how Sterling knew we were here?” Jon replied in amazement. However, another huge explosion shaking the ship reminded the two officers of their precarious situation.

  “So I assume you have changed your mind about staying?” Paul added with a wry smile. “I would have thought you were looking forward to seeing Sofia again. It’s been about three years since you last saw her.”

  “Two,” came the automatic reply. “Not that I am keeping count or anything,” Jon added quickly. “And yes I have changed my mind about staying. I have already filled this lifetime’s quota of suicidal dives into enemy warships, thank you very much. Time to go.”

  However as they reached the threshold of the bridge, Jon came to an abrupt halt. Turning to Paul he insisted. “You go on ahead.”

  “Jon…”

  “I’m coming, I promise. I just need a minute alone. Please.”

  Paul looked intently at Jon but upon seeing the guilt lurking in his eyes, nodded abruptly. “But only one minute otherwise I will come back and get you.”

  Jon nodded his head in thanks, as Paul disappeared through the door towards the flight deck. Taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, Jon turned around to face the empty bridge once again.

  However it was now no longer empty. It was just like the last time that he had stepped onto the bridge, on that fateful mission in the Beta Hydri system, before everything went to hell. The original crew of the Sunfire were there, motionless, standing at attention, just staring at him. However Jon felt no anger or malice in their gaze, only calm acceptance of their fate. Falling to one knee, bowing his head Jon took the opportunity to do what he had long regretted that he could not.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing that they would be able to hear him. “I’m sorry for letting you down and for failing you. I promised you I would get you all home, but I abandoned you when you needed me the most. I should have been here for you but I promise you that while I live, you will also live on and I will never forget you. I’ll remember the sacrifice that you made. That I promise. Goodbye my friends.” However when he looked up once again the bridge was empty, deserted. Jon hoped that the crew had finally found the peace that they deserved.

  Turning his back he hurried through the door after Paul. Jon had lived in the past long enough. It was time to embrace the future.

  *****

  “Took you long enough,” Paul complained as Jon entered the cockpit of the Endless Light. “By the way do you know that your ship talks?”

  “Yeah, the problem is shutting it up,” Jon replied, noticing the engines had already been powered up and the ship was ready to depart. With a raised eyebrow at Paul, he replied.

  “Don’t look at me. The ship did it all by itself. I just suggested it.”

  Shaking his head in disbelief Jon rotated the shuttle until it was orientated towards the exit of the hangar bay. Pushing the engines to full thrust they shot out of the bay, quickly diving to stay close to the hull of the warship, as Jon knew they were now in weapons range of the Tyrell ships’ guns. This was quickly reinforced by the warning from the ship’s tactical display that they were being targeted.

  “Might have left it a bit late,” Paul voiced his concern out loud.

  “We’ll put the Sunfire between us and the Tyrell fleet. That should buy us a little time,” Jon replied. However, it immediately became apparent the enemy ships were finally within weapons range as a series of explosions briefly illuminated one side of the ship as the enemy heavy guns opened fire. “Change of plan,” Jon replied when it quickly became apparent the Sunfire was not going to last long under such a concentrated barrage. “We’re going to run for it.” With that the small shuttle shot out from underneath the shadow of the huge warship and headed at maximum speed towards the approaching Confederation warships.

  “We’re not going to make it,” Paul insisted. “The enemy ships are ignoring the Sunfire and are targeting us.”

  And it was true, as the weapons fire on the Sunfire started to dramatically fall off before halting completely. Instead the enemy guns turned on the fleeing shuttle. Meanwhile the enemy flotilla passed overhead of the Imperial warship that continued to drift, engines idle.

  *****

  Meanwhile on the empty bridge of the Sunfire nothing stirred. Suddenly one-by-one consoles, that had long since powered down from inactivity, came to life. As more consoles lit up, navigation commands abruptly started to appear. Speed, heading, pitch and yaw. As if a slumbering giant had suddenly started to awake, signals from the bridge started to flow once more and the mighty engines, which had lain dormant, flared to life. At full power the Sunfire started to suddenly accelerate, propelled forward by the massive force of her engines. Following the commands from the bridge, the ship abruptly pitched up higher and higher, right into the bow of the Tyrell cruiser that was passing overhead.

  The force of the collision was so massive it knocked the cruiser a full three hundred meters to starboard, straight into the port side of a frigate that was in close escort formation. Chaos ensured as the tight flotilla of ships were rammed into one another by the titanic collision. Finally the destroyer, which had been bringing up the rear of the formation, slammed into the stern of the cruiser. The impact sent an energy surge through the power conduits of the cruiser, collapsing the magnetic shielding around the fusion reactor. The resulting explosion was cataclysmic and tore the flotilla apart.

  Paul watched in equal parts of awe and horror at the devastation taking place behind them, finally having to close his eyelids at the searing brightness of the resultant explosions. When everything was silent there was no trace of the flotilla of ships or the Sunfire.

  Patting Jon on the back, he quipped, “Now we are equal, after I saved your life on Tartarus. Good thinking setting the autopilot.”

  Jon had no reply, as he knew he had done no such thing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Protector, Flagship Confederation 12th Fleet, on route to Eden Prime

  The Endless Light came in for a graceful landing on the flight deck of the Protector, flagship of the Confederation 12th fleet. Jon could clearly make out the shuttles of the rest of the crew lined up along the deck. It was only after he completed a quick internal count and confirmed they were all present that he let out the deep breath he had been unconsciously holding.

  Resting his head against the back of the pilot’s seat of the Endless Light, he let his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing himself to relax for the first time in what, days, weeks, months, years?

  “So are you just going to sit here or go out there? I think you have a couple of people waiting to see you,” Paul laughed.

  Jon snapped his eyes open and took in the scene outside the shuttle. If anything Paul was underestimating the crowd, as it seemed everybody on the ship had turned out for their arrival. He could just make out the odd white uniform of the crew mixed in amongst a sea of black Confederation Navy uniforms. There were hundreds of people waiting outside. However, in the sea of black and white Jon only had eyes for one person. Standing out like a beacon with he
r red hair, blouse and jeans, was somebody Jon had seriously doubted back there he would ever see again.

  “Go talk to her,” Paul said softly. “It’s been a conversation that is long overdue don’t you think? I think you might surprise each other.”

  “What about you?” Jon replied, unable to take his eyes off Sofia, who was an oasis of calm in a sea of people.

  “Oh I’ll be along shortly. Right after I have reassured myself I am actually still alive. It’ll take a little while longer I think. Then I want to talk to Carol and the kids, to let them know I am fine.”

  Jon nodded his head in understanding, resting a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Thank you Paul. We would have never made it without you. I owe you my life. We all owe you are our lives.”

  Paul just nodded his head in understanding, not able to reply with words. Instead he just sat there, softly listening to the sound of the cockpit doors sliding shut. He could feel the shuttle rocked slightly by the cheers of the crew from outside when Jon appeared, followed him with his eyes, as the sea of people parted before him, until he was standing in front of Sofia and took her in his arms.

  Sighing to himself, he stood slowly. Hoping Jon remembered his promise, when one day he found out the truth about what happened between him and Sofia. Paul had a call to make, then he needed a drink.

  *****

  As Jon stepped out of the shuttle, facing a sea of faces, everybody fell still for an instant, as if the room was taking a collective breath. Then the cheering started. Slowly at first, but it grew and grew, until it finally reached such a crescendo that it seemed like the entire flight deck was vibrating from the intensity of the noise.

  As Jon made his way down the ramp he ignored it, only having eyes for one person. Exchanging the odd word here, the occasional handshake there, he made his way determinedly through the crowd. Until finally he arrived. The crowd parted before him and suddenly she was there, in front of him. Jon took a deep breath, before taking a step forward. Closer. He had seen her on Tartarus, but was so caught up in events he had not had the time to appreciate her beauty. The way her soft curls framed her face, the sparkle in her emerald green eyes and the way her lips upturned in a soft smile. Even more than that, Jon could still feel the pull towards her. The same that he felt on the planet, but magnified a thousand-fold. This time Jon did not resist it, as he took another step forward, then another. So close he could reach out and finally touch her. And because he could, he did. Running his fingertips along the side of her cheek, marvelling at how soft her skin was. Even softer than how he remembered it. Was it his imagination or did she lean ever so slightly into his touch?