Remember the Starfighter

by Michael Kan

  Turning forward, she could see nothing indicating a heat signature, her optics switching between the different viewing patterns. She then noticed something on the ground next to the seat. The woman walked forward, coming closer, to see the figure. It was a being, the head, and arms and legs, distinctly visible.

  She did not recognize its dress. It was a strange and sophisticated uniform, with strands of silver and black weaving on the arms and chest. At the being’s head was a helmet, a fog masked over its glassy visor. The woman kneeled forward, and reached down, wiping away the haze.

  At first, she thought it was an error seeping into her visuals. But no, it was unmistakable. A human male lay before her, the face and its characteristic features clear.

  Instinctively, she wanted to speak. To learn from this man, to express what needed to be said. About the mission. About everything. It had been their goal for so long. To find them. So many questions, wanting to be answered.

  None of this would come. Not when the human, his face vacant of expression, lay there lifeless. She checked again, through her scans, wanting to disbelieve them. But it was true, the man’s heart had stopped, his body cold. He had been dead now for more than two days, his carcass left to freeze.

  Chapter 19

  “Do you remember me?”

  He had heard the voice several times now, all the while, feeling barely alive, his every breath a struggle, his entire body numb.

  He opened his eyes, the bright light coming through, and then turning back into blackness. So hard it was to stay awake, his body wincing in discomfort.

  “Julian, can you hear me?”

  The voice. It was a man, someone speaking to him, close. He opened his eyes, again, finding that he was in a room, the walls entirely white. He realized he was laying on something, on some kind of a bed. His body now covered in a suit. The fabric ceramic-like, encasing and constraining around his every limb.

  “Can you see me?”

  He wished he could ignore it. But the voice was growing louder, more emphatic, wanting a response. He swallowed, feeling his lips dry. Then he coughed hard, gasping to inhale, trying to focus. Indeed, there was a man, next to him, speaking at his side.

  At first, he could barely make out the figure, although in time, he could see that the man was dressed in clothes formal and black. Strange golden markings ran across and below his shoulder blades, even extending down to his arms. And yet, even more peculiar was his face, a pair of violet eyes staring back at him.

  “Julian,” the man said. “Do you remember? Do you remember me?”

  He wondered about that thought. Who was Julian? Where was he? Who was this man standing before him?

  Hearing no answer, the man then stepped back — like he wanted to give room for something.

  He then realized the numbness was leaving him. In its place was pain. It began as a mild nausea, his mind gradually losing focus. Suddenly, the disorientation turned into a violent anarchy, an emptiness inside him now becoming a shocking force. Out of nowhere, images and faces had surfaced, the seconds, hours, days and years, coming in one surge after the next. Memories of every kind, invading his very being. He could see the places and people, so foreign, only to then realize that they were not. This was not right. This was not natural. What was happening? Thoughts by the millions, so distant, and yet so vivid, emerged. Suffocating it was, his only response but to scream out in pain. The images turning into moments. The moments turning into life. And then the life itself falling into torment. Stop, he screamed, wanting for it to end. He was going to collapse, he was going to die, his brain wanting to explode. Please, he begged, please let it stop. His face was now drenched in sweat.

  Ever so gradually, the mercy came, the storm scattering, the pain receding. He felt the tension leave his muscles, his breath now one long exhale after another. Yes, the pain was gone. But something was now different, his mind filled with thoughts, dozens of them, from years ago to what he knew to be his last moments.

  The man stepped closer and asked once again. “Julian. Do you remember? Do you remember anything?”

  Still in shock, he lay there for several moments, staring at the ceiling. Finally, he turned to the man, recognizing both his voice and his face, even recalling his name.

  “Yeah, Landon” he said, with tears in his eyes. “Fuck.”

  ***

  “I’m sorry, but you were one of the only survivors.”

  Julian heard the commander’s words as they sat in the debriefing room, his body looking weak and malnourished — a side effect of his rejuvenation treatment.

  The commander, named Landon Vyuranas, had handed him the data tablet. On it, was a long list of names compiled over the screen. Julian could barely look at it. A total of 732 SpaceCore officers had died at Bydandia, all of them killed in the Endervar attack.

  “Admiral Drayden was a good man. I’m glad I had the privilege to serve with him years ago,” the commander continued. “It’s just a miracle you survived. We counted only a handful of transports making it out of the system during the attack."

  Julian looked down at the tablet, ignoring the data, and saw his own reflection in the glass display. His cells, once dead, had been reanimated, parts of his brain regrown, and re-laced with new cybernetic implants that veined through his neck and temples.

  It was what they called a rejuvenation. A medical miracle. A procedure that was now almost commonplace, and able to restore and extend life in certain cases. But to Julian, this was only a misnomer. His face in the glass seemed to only show the reflection of a dead man.

  “I didn’t survive,” he said coldly. “I was KIA back there.”

  The commander shook his head, and stared back with his violet eyes.

  “You’re alive. That’s what matters.”

  Julian pushed away the tablet, frustrated at the thought

  “Let’s just get this over with,” he replied.

  “Are you feeling fine? If you need more time—”

  “You know exactly how I feel. Don’t pretend like you don’t.”

  Being a New Terran, the commander possessed a degree of telepathy, enough to sense others’ emotions and even read thoughts. Julian’s face, however, conveyed all the anguish he needed to see.

  “Very well then,” the commander replied. “Can you please detail on what happened in the attack?”

  “It was an Overlord. Decimated everything… Goddamit. I still can’t...”

  Julian clenched his teeth, as he tried to explain.

  “Don’t strain yourself Julian,” the commander said. “What happened to the Lightning?”

  “…It was damaged in the attack. I had to reroute all power to the engines. Barely made it out. After I jumped into hyperspace, it was too late. The life-support pretty much gone, oxygen running out. All I could do was send the ship on an automated course.”

  “Yes, that’s consistent with the ship’s records.”

  “I thought I was dead. I’m supposed to be dead.”

  Julian — his face pale and body underweight — looked down and away as if he was lost.

  “You almost truly were. But Alliance Command has the best medical staff in the galaxy. Your body was still in a recoverable state, not so different from a cryogenic sleep.”

  He said nothing, exhausted by what he thought was a needless discussion.

  “It’s important for you to know, in spite of the losses, your mission was a success. The subject you recovered is now being held at a science facility on board the station.”

  “The subject?”

  “Yes. The body you recovered. During transit, it emerged from cryogenic stasis only to find you, how should I say, temporarily out of action on your ship.”

  “And it’s here?”

  The commander nodded. “To my understanding, the subject has been cooperative.”

  “Cooperative? Their kind is wiping out all life in the galaxy,” Julian nearly yelled.

  The commander, keeping calm, shifted the subj
ect.

  “Did Drayden, or anyone else on board Bydandia base, mention to you anything about its origin, about the—”

  “I think it’s obvious the Endervars wanted it back. They annihilated us.”

  “But was there something else? Mention of the ship? Of the technology inside?”

  “The ship?”

  “Yes, the ship. The one you recovered. The Endervar ship that was being studied.”

  “I don’t know. Drayden said nothing about that. My orders were just to get the hell out and escort the body.”

  Julian heaved a sigh, tired of this questioning, wanting to just leave. “All SpaceCore research files on this should be with the Alliance over the long-range band. Just read the damn report again Landon. I’ve got nothing else.”

  “I know Julian. But that technology, it’s critical—”

  “What is wrong with you Landon? I don’t know any more. You just don’t get it, do you?”

  “I apologize, but it’s important that we talk—”

  Julian shook his head in disgust.

  “There’s nothing more,” he said. “Nothing.”

  “Julian, I just want to make sure you’re fine. You just went through an intense medical procedure. It will take time—”

  “Goddamit, Landon. This is not first time. You know that.”

  Julian could no longer look at the commander, his voice overcome with anger. “Just leave me be,” he muttered. “All I know has been said, there’s nothing else.”

  The commander was forced to agree.

  “I understand,” he said, rising from his seat. “Alliance leaders may still have more questions for you. But for now, you should remain in medical care until you’ve been cleared.”

  Upon leaving the room, the commander glanced back at Julian. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Julian, however, could not hear the apologies. Nor did he care. Already his mind was in another place, lost in the battle he was forced to flee. He saw things again, condemning himself for his failure. Now Julian could only look at the data tablet on the table and scroll down to find the name. “Nalia Kynestar,” it said. “Killed in action.”

  ***

  “I apologize Captain Nverson, but I have to declare you unfit for duty.”

  The automated doctor made the statement, speaking in a calm, yet monotonous tone. The machine, a standard medical droid commissioned by the Alliance, floated in front of Julian, retracting its two mechanical arms back into its capsule-like body.

  Julian sat in his chair, staring down at the room’s floor. His diagnosis had been post-traumatic revival disorder, with brain activity deviating far beyond normal parameters.

  “I thought you said I was fine,” Julian said, his face weary. “That I can leave.”

  As he spoke, the automated doctor flashed another wave of neon lights against Julian’s body, completing the last rounds of scans.

  “You are correct. The rejuvenation procedure was a success, and your essential vitals are reporting normal. However, you suffered severe mental trauma, likely from your previous mission.”

  “That happens all the time. Just give me something to deal with it.”

  “Yes, you will be given proper medication,” the machine said, staring back at him behind three large mechanical lenses. “But as part of proper protocol, you will also be temporarily suspended from duty and be assigned a counselor in due time.”

  “This is bullshit,” Julian shouted.

  “The protocols are mandated in both Alliance and SpaceCore regulations for psychological health among your species. You are to be granted medical leave for 45 standard days,” the machine replied. “When the 45 days have been reached, a new evaluation will be given to determine—”

  “Fuck you,” Julian yelled.

  “Captain Nverson. These regulations are meant to ensure your mental health. If you—”

  “We’re in a goddamn war,” Julian snapped back. “You can’t just ground me because of elevated stress levels or whatever crap you’re trying to pull. Just give me the medication.”

  “Under normal circumstances, you would be allowed back on military duty. But given your—”

  “What do you mean? How is this any different?”

  Again, the machine tried to speak diplomatically.

  “Given your past medical history and psychological profile, allowing you to command and pilot a vessel in your current state could pose a hazard to yourself and to those around you. Because of that, I cannot allow you back on duty.”

  “You’re just a fucking machine. You can’t make that decision!”

  “The decision has been finalized. You are now on medical leave. However, you may issue a formal protest to the appropriate military representative.”

  Frustrated, Julian flung his fist against a metal table to his side, pushing over the tray of medical tools. He stared at the machine, wanting to make it understand.

  “You can’t do this. Not now,” Julian shouted. “I have to go back. I have to fight them.”

  “Captain Nverson, I suggest you please calm yourself.”

  “I have to stop them. I have to destroy them.”

  “Captain Nverson. Please, calm yourself.”

  “I’m not insane. I just need to fight. They took everything away from me, dammit. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “Captain Nverson, Please—”

  He knew the doctor was right. That he had lost all rational thought. He was a flight risk, and shouldn’t be anywhere near a starship. But Julian could only scream and plead. He had suffocated under his own emotions for long enough. Looking at the fallen metal tray, he was ready to throw it at the mechanical doctor. He wanted to bolt for the door, and run to the hanger bay. He needed his ship, the Lightning. It was all that mattered. He needed to fight.

  “I’m sorry Captain Nverson, but you leave me no choice,” the machine doctor said.

  Instantly, Julian could feel it. A sedative, dispersed through the air, began filling the room. His sight was turning into a blur, his body wanting to fall over. He tried to stand, but could only stumble out of his chair and crash to the ground.

  Julian looked for the exit, reaching out for the door. Above him, he saw only the doctor, once again bathing him in another round of electronic medical scans.

  Trying to stop it, Julian put his face in his hands. He wanted to shake the numbness, but soon he would lose all consciousness, and whatever will to fight back.

  “They have to pay,” he whispered. “They have to.”

  Chapter 20

  INTER-NEWS FEED #ZQ-342-S (UNICODE TRANSLATION-DEF ALLIANCE AUTHORIZATION)

  SUBJECT: OURYAN COLLAPSER STRATEGY, CONCERN ON FALLOUT

  CHRONICLER: Alliance leaders declared a “foreseeable end” to the war against the Endervars, as they moved to accelerate plans to deploy the Ouryan collapser

  “We will not only bring a halt to the Endervars’ expansion, but we will eliminate them from our galaxy,” said Alliance principal Kal-yiness in a speech to the galactic masses.

  Kal-yiness made the statements nearly one mid-cycle after the Alliance unveiled the Ouryan collapser, the first known weapon capable of destroying Endervar shielded worlds.

  The collapser’s deployment will be the first full-fledged Alliance offensive against the Endervars since the failed containment strategy of 10231 A.F. Although it’s unclear when the weapon will be specifically deployed, analysts expect the operations to begin in 10 to 20 cycles.

  The offensive is also expected to be the Alliance’s largest military operation to date. More than 500 to 1,200 enemy star systems could be destroyed in the first wave alone, according to statistical projections. This would effectively eliminate Endervar positions far beyond the threat zone and into the fourth and possibly third-tier enemy territories.

  It still remains unclear the exact mechanics behind the Ouryan collapser. But Alliance tactical has said the weapon has been deployed in a total of three tria
ls against Endervar-controlled systems. In all test cases, the collapser targeted the system’s star to produce a supernova-like explosion. In the aftermath, the system’s planets, including the Endervar shielded worlds were completely eradicated.

  Such destruction is expected to inject a high amount of stellar mass into the galaxy, creating unforeseen levels of dark radiation, temporal tearing and Cerion phenomena across affected regions. A minor-realignment in the galaxy’s galactic arms is also projected, and some analysts have warned of a widespread disruption in hyperspace fields.

  In spite of the possible dangers, Alliance Tactical has assured the public that the Ouryan collapser is safe to use.

  “The weapon has been in development for a near exa-cycle,” said Alliance Fleet Admiral Onatagias in a military briefing. “Throughout that time, countless simulations have been carried out, showing limited effects to Alliance free space.”

  The Alliance, however, concedes that the Endervars’ origins continue to remain unknown. Scientists have long speculated that the enemy may come from another galaxy. Fleet Admiral Onatagias also refrained from stating that the collapser would bring a total victory over the enemy. But since the collapser’s reveal, support for the weapon has been near unanimous amongst the different Alliance factions and congressional members. The Security Council has already voted in favor of fleet re-deployment, and a full vote is also expected to pass in the galactic congress.

  Still, a few have expressed reservations about the weapon’s deployment. Opposing the collapser’s use has been the High Scientists League, which has called for more transparency in the weapon’s specifications. So far, Alliance Tactical and the Ouryan Union have refused the requests.