Remember the Starfighter
Page 47
“Yes,” she replied. “Alysdeon said that the ships’ scientists are all very eager to study the enemy technology.”
“I bet. Apparently, some of her family is also on board.”
She saw Julian’s face rise into a smile. In total, the two additional ships were staffed by only about 20 people.
It was certainly nothing to boast about. But even as the following was small, the Sovereign’s promise of breaking the Endervar shield would only engender more support.
“I’m sure they’re all looking forward to meeting you,” Julian remarked. “You’re the woman from Earth after all. The first to ever escape the shield.”
He said the words in praise, his continuing grin visible behind the glow of the holo-panels.
I am just a machine, she was tempted to say, the words almost habit. Arendi, however, quickly put aside the thought.
“Will you join me on board the Davinity?” she asked.
Julian went on with his task, glancing at both her and the data displayed.
“I will, but for now, I should stay here. At least until Alysdeon comes back,” he said.
His reasoning had little to do with anything related to the mission, but with another, more unanticipated, concern.
“The Au-O’sanah,” he explained. “She’s afraid of being alone.”
“The ship?”
Julian nodded before inputting the final command on the holo-displays.
“It may not seem like it, but she’s very much alive,” he said, delicately rubbing his two fingers on a railing next to the control panel.
“She’s talking to me now, actually.”
“Telepathically?” Arendi asked.
“Yeah, she was just asking about you, wondering why she can’t touch your mind. But I explained…”
He trailed off, thinking at how silly it all might seem.
“Anyways, she wishes she could know you more,” he continued. “She wants to be your friend.”
He didn’t know if she would take it seriously. But Arendi understood, almost completely. She looked around the bridge, and gazed up at the ceiling, and the surrounding interior. Raising her hand, she then touched the wall, the porcelain hide unusually soft and warm.
“I would like that very much,” she said, flattered by the gesture.
Turning back to Julian, Arendi saw that he was staring elsewhere, his attention directed to the main view screen. It was what he had been after, the commands into the holo-panels generating the re-calibrated scans.
“This just came in,” he said, pointing to the images.
The live footage was taken from several different angles, the planet located less than a light-year away, inside the neighboring star system.
“It’s Haven,” he explained. “It’s seen better days.”
Like every other subjugated planet, Julian’s homeworld had become an entity of pure white. Churning to the planet’s rotation was the Endervar barrier, the alien energy teeming across the enormous crystalline shell.
“We sent out four sensory probes over a day ago, and everything is pretty quiet,” Julian said.
Arendi looked and noticed that there was not one Endervar ship in the system.
“Then it’s vulnerable to our approach,” she concluded.
But Julian only half-heartedly agreed, not so sure. He pressed the side of his temple, the implant on his skin. The images on the view screen changed, and shifted to what had been the last attempt to save his homeworld.
What Arendi saw amounted to floating debris, the trail of broken metal laying in the dead cold. It went on, the graveyard of destroyed ships littered across the system in bundles of scrap.
“The last time I was here, I barely made it out alive,” Julian recalled. “The Endervars wiped out any sign of resistance.”
He crossed his shoulders, and viewed the images in complete dread. “Now I’m back,” he muttered, the realization bringing little solace.
Julian tapped the implant again, and shut down the images with a heavy sigh.
“I guess there’s still one unknown left,” he said, thinking back at the image of Haven.
“Which is?” Arendi asked in concern.
“How the Endervars will react once we take down their shield.”
He let out another deep breath, and wiped his eyes in stress. Overwhelmed by the uncertainty, Julian cringed.
“We may have found a way to exploit their technology,” he said. “But they’re still the most powerful force in the galaxy. I know. I’ve seen what they can do.”
Looking down at his right hand, Julian could only wonder and ask if the enemy was still there. Inside his mind.
Then again, the enemy had always been there. Tainting his every memory, maybe his very existence.
“The Endervars,” he said in a whisper. “They’re everywhere.”
Staring down at the open palm, he found himself conflicted. It was just his hand, and at his command. But still, he hesitated, too afraid to close it.
Blowing the air out from his cheeks, Julian was about to shake his fingers, when he felt the touch.
The sensation was sudden, but the contact gentle. He raised his head, and saw it was Arendi, reaching out to him.
She initially didn’t utter a word. Only caress his hand with her own. The delicate fingers over his palm, and stroking the side.
She then lifted his hand and placed it against her cheek, pressing his fingers over her skin. It was in the way he had done it before: Arendi damaged, but Julian there, holding her, trying to help.
She wanted to do the same for him.
“We will find a way,” Arendi said. “Like we always have.”
Her hand and her face were cold, but Julian didn’t mind. She closed her eyes and gave the calmest of smiles.
In that brief moment, he held her face, before letting go. Stunned silent, Julian didn’t quite know what to do.
Blushing, Arendi grazed the front of her hair.
“I hope to see you on board the Davinity soon,” she said, before leaving. “Things aren’t quite the same without you.”
Chapter 61
As Julian was about to set foot on the H.G. Davinity, the Au-O’sanah called back to him. The bio-ship and its onboard computer had noticed something in the scans, the activity not coming from Haven, but closer to the adjacent yellow sun.
He returned to the Au-O’sanah’s bridge, and studied the incoming data from one of the sensory probes. There was still no sign of any Endervar ships, but the scans had detected a wave of hyperspace signals emerging from within the system — the disturbance not from one ship, but what had to be at least several vessels.
Nervous, Julian inputted the commands, and ordered two of the other probes to move closer to the star. He then accessed his communication band, and signaled Alysdeon.
“Are you seeing this?” he asked, sending over the latest data to the Davinity. “These hyperwave signals were found just ten minutes ago.”
“Yeah, the first batch of data came from just the one. But I’m moving two others to get in closer.”
While he waited, Julian had to say it.
“The collapser, I thought we still had time.”
He looked at the most recent batch of public data, and queried for any mentions of the Ouryan collapser. According to the latest report, the scheduled deployment was still a month away.
“Maybe these reports all have it wrong. The Ouryans still aren’t giving many details,” Julian said.
Eventually, she sent back the Davinity’s own long-range scans to Julian, the data inconclusive.
“Confirmed. I’ll be watching.”
He ended the communication, and began looking closer through the data, hoping to find clearer evidence of what might be occurring inside the Haven system.
Meanwhile, the probes were moving into position, the live data updating. An hour later and Julian received his answer.
“Shit,” he said, reading the results. More hyperspace signals had just been detected, the burgeoning activity tantamount to a fleet’s arrival.
Whatever was moving in the system was large, and likely encompassing over several hundred ships.
The Au-O’sanah’s computer then found the pattern, the communication beams from the emerging ships matching with registered frequencies belonging to known military groups. Among them was one in particular, the data stream unique to vessels serving under the galactic power.
“The Union,” Julian said, looking at the data. “It’s confirmed. They’re here.”
***
The details of the Ouryan collapser had been kept confidential, including its exact mechanics and overall physical appearance. But even so, Julian’s instincts told him it was there on the view screen, the probes spotting the six ships just outside the star’s periphery.
They aligned themselves into a six-pointed hexagon, the hot glow of the sun bursting behind them. Each ship was like a canon, the elongated hull forming a heavy barrel, ready to siphon the energies from the star, and redirect them into what would become an exponential force.
Escorting them was a fleet numbering at least 400 vessels in size. Although Julian wasn’t sure what precise military arm they belonged to, it was some form of drone army, the ships identical in class. Each vessel was small, almost teardrop in shape, and together, they formed a defensive position away from the collapser, the field of stationary ships seemingly hibernating, but still on guard.
Gazing at the sight, Julian realized it left little to speculation. The Ouryans were poised to strike. It was now only a matter of when.
“Arendi, are you there?” he asked, as he prepped the Au-O’sanah for takeoff.
His voice was agitated, the thought of the collapser firing off compelling him to act. On the other end of the comm channel, he could hear a rush of movement, followed by the sound of spinning mechanical gear.
“Yes Julian. I’m here,” she answered back. “I’ve just been informed of the situation.”
Still on board the Davinity, Arendi spoke to him as she continued to work. A day had passed, the Endervar technology transferred over, and already she could suspect why Julian had called.
“How much time do we have?” she asked.
“Not sure,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s the scary part. They could deploy it at any moment for all I know.”
Back on board the Au-O’sanah, the bridge’s view screen displayed the faint images of the Ouryan collapser, the six ships all still dormant, but in position.
“Arendi, the nullifier, can we use it? Can we lift the shield around Haven now? Maybe we can bypass all this.”
Julian waited for the response, but only heard a long pause.
“…There’s a problem,” she finally said, the sound of the crew members all scrambling around her. “I’m afraid we may need more time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just now, we ran an updated simulation forecasting the potential effects of the nullifier. It estimates a 99 percent elimination of the shield around Haven.”
“Unfortunately, it has an unintentional side effect,” she cautioned. “In its current form, the nullifier could potentially cause catastrophic damage to Haven.”
“How bad?”
“There’s an 87 percent chance a major explosion hits the planet’s surface. Another 61 percent chance it hits a populated area.”
Julian tried to contain his disappointment. She could hear his sigh from the other end.
“I’m sorry Julian, I—”
“No, it’s okay. You just need more time, right?”
“Yes. We’re working on a solution as we speak.”
“Good.”
As she waited for him to continue, Julian looked back at the view screen, the Ouryan collapser poised to ignite.
“Then there’s only one thing left to do.”
The odds were certainly against him; the Au-O’sanah was just one vessel. Even the battleship supporting the Sovereign would be no match for the much larger opposing force protecting the collapser, the drone army too vast to take head on.
No matter. Julian knew something had to be done.
“Looks like I won’t be joining you on the Davinity. At least not now,” he said. “Just get that nullifier up and running.”
“Julian, what do you plan to do?”
He didn’t answer, but Arendi already knew.
“You can’t,” she said. “It’s too dangerous. That fleet is so—.”
“I’ll be fine. Trust me. Someone has to stop the collapser.”
“No. Let me come with you. I—.”
“Arendi, no,” he exclaimed. “Definitely not. You’re too valuable. Everything hinges on you. Focus on the mission. Nothing else matters.”
She fell silent, hearing the sternness in his voice. It was like he was shouting a command, the grim decision already made.
“Don’t worry,” he said, softening his tone. “Just… Just free my people. You’re the only one who can.”
Julian had more to say, and he could hear Arendi wanting to declare just one more word. But instead, he cut the open channel and pressed down hard on his wrist, the comm-band shutting off.
“Arendi,” he said, imagining her face. He could tell she was worried. However, Julian was quick to let go. There was just no time.
Hunkered over a railing on the Au-O’sanah’s bridge, he quickly rose and went to the command console. At full-speed, it would take maybe less than an hour to reach the star. But before he could plot a course, he stopped himself, as he heard the echo come from the vessel.
“Shit,” he said, letting his frustrated face fall into his hand. He looked around him, and even felt it in his mind — the vessel alive, and aware of his plight.
Would she come along?
He felt the sensation slide into his thoughts. The bio-ship had just detached itself from the neighboring Davinity.
The entrance to the bridge opened, the Sovereign stepping into the room.
She was resolute, her telepathy prompting the Au-O’sanah to activate the engines. The course was laid out on the main view screen.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Julian said. “The crew needs you. You’re the reason why they came.”
She understood his concerns, but easily dismissed them with a smirk.
Touching a floating holo-panel, she then glanced at the arch erected on the bridge. A conduit of black energy swirled around the containment unit, the new stock of Endervar particles in place and ready to be used.
She put her hand firmly on the arch’s metal sheen, and looked back at the view screen. The crew of the Davinity could carry on without her; after all, the Sovereign was more than just a woman or a title, but a symbol.
Chapter 62
Alysdeon had only personally met the elite commander once before. And even then, it had been a brief encounter, long ago, when she had been a different person. Perhaps a happier person.
It simply showed a defending force now active, and coiling around the collapser in a swarm of movement. Scans counted 601 vessels exactly, spiraling in a cataract of needles against the yellow sun.
“Are you sure, this is the one?” asked Julian, who was at the helm of the Au-O’sanah’s main controls. “I’m not even reading a sentinel ID from the ships.”
Alysdeon understood the skepticism. To many, the machine fleets were more like nameless weapons — vast, but soul-less, and ultimately expendable.
Alysdeon, however, knew better. Behind every machine fleet was a sentient A.I. in command, and one that had sworn to protect the galaxy.
This one, in particular, was something special, and considered a hero within the Sentinel Guard.
She looked back at the view screen, and studied the fleet. Within the black mass was the glimmer of blue, the crackle of watery light veining across the sheen of every ship.
Walking back to the bridge’s main control system, she looked at Julian, and reluctantly ordered him to proceed.
She then expressed a regretful gaze, her ruby eyes weighted with worry.
“Agreed,” Julian said, finalizing the prepared maneuver. “It doesn’t sit well with me either. I just hope you can pull it away from the collapser. Otherwise, this will get very messy.”
It was a dangerous proposition. Very likely, they would have to engage the machine fleet, in order to destroy the Ouryan collapser.
What that meant was confronting 601 ships, each deadly, and equipped with all the manner of cutting-edge weaponry. Julian had devised several viable flight patterns to counter the potential obstacles. But even so, the situation was certainly less than ideal; the machine fleet was so large it would be impossible to predict its actions. They just needed an opening — a way in to bomb the collapser into oblivion.