Remember the Starfighter

by Michael Kan

  The staging ground had been set. The rendezvous point located ten light-years away from Haven, and in the depths of space.

  It was supposed to be a desolate area, removed of any life, and home to only cosmic ice and errant photons. But no more.

  Over a span of only a few days, the super-fleet had begun to emerge — ships numbering in the hundreds, and then the thousands — responding to the call.

  What vacancy was left had been brushed aside. An ever-growing armada was filling the surrounding area with an upsurge of activity, the vessels ranging from static clouds of miniature drone fighters, to giant dreadnoughts wielding world-shaking weapons.

  Joining the burgeoning force were ships from the Terran Hegemony, and directly under the command of their Sovereign. But overall, the fleet had come together from the hurried efforts of over a dozen different races and federated groups, the will of the galactic commonwealth brought to bear.

  The result was a patchwork of disparate ship types on display, the military cultures, at times, exotic and straying away from the mainstream technologies. Although many of the vessels had been built with hardened metal shells, others had been engineered into liquid globes of sprawling tiny machines, or concentrated into halos of experimental energy.

  All had in some way defended the stars from the enemy. Their crews would be more than ready to do so again.

  The liberation of Haven, however, had not just ignited a call to action. It had also disrupted the Endervar expansion, and sent the enemy into a large-scale retreat.

  It was a development the Alliance had never encountered before; the sudden fallibility of the Endervar shield could be seen across the sector. The tide turning.

  So for the first time in ages, the free galaxy would seize the moment. Assembling every willing ship in the sector, what was left of the Alliance would take the offensive and strike at its sworn adversary.

  There was just one ship missing.

  “The Davinity,” he said. “Where is it?”

  Walking back and forth, Julian found himself growing anxious inside the control room. Over a day ago, the Alliance diplomatic vessel had arrived to the rally point, and found the rare sight of the unified and growing armada among the stars.

  What had since followed was a hectic flurry of orders. Inside the ship’s control room, Julian could see the other officers all busy, either orchestrating the upcoming fleet formations, or tied down analyzing the enemy’s retreat.

  Julian himself was attending the strategy sessions, and trying to offer any insight that he could. But even with all the distractions, Julian could not ignore the missing piece to their plan.

  On the main display screens beamed the sight of the armada. Like a standing army, it had gathered — the powerful capital ships at the core, and flanked by an expanding number of siege craft, drone fighter squadrons, and numerous specialized bombing divisions.

  But strangely absent was the New Terran battleship Julian had expected to see. For some reason, the Davinity had yet to arrive — its current whereabouts unknown.

 

  Julian heard the footsteps come from behind, the aura of impatience entering his mind. It was Alysdeon, and she was just as worried.

  She stopped at his side, and thought back.

  As ordered, almost a week ago, the accompanying science vessel to the battleship had set course for the New Scientists League. Its task: to begin an in-depth analysis of the recovered Endervar technology.

  The early assessments had been positive. Mass-producing a “nullifier” from the original prototypes could be done in weeks or maybe even less. It would only be a matter of effectively deploying it, and then securing every liberated world from Endervar reprisal.

  For the past two days, the other fleet commanders had been discussing the best course of action, and whether to divide the armada, or remain as one.

  Alysdeon, however, would much rather postpone that debate. Instead, she was more concerned with the battle that had already taken place.

  She looked again at the data, her armband displaying the vessel’s most recent communication.

  It had come from deep within the Haven star system half a day ago, and near the orbit of Julian’s homeworld, the message from the Davinity cut off and jumbled

  Alysdeon said, walking toward Julian. It was a new batch of scans from the Haven system, but cross-referenced and verified.

  Using her armband, she projected the hologram into the air.

 

  Julian examined the data, and saw the energy spike.

  “A battle. Did it make it?”

  She slowly nodded, checking the scans.

 

  Alysdeon felt the telepathy. It came from an officer in the control room. The Arcenian admiral signaled with a glance, and whipped its tail.

  She squinted, and accessed her implants to connect with the local networks.

 

  The hologram at her wrist morphed into a windowed view. The borders became a hard white, while the image inside softened into transparent film. Appearing was the Davinity’s captain, the woman apparently Alysdeon’s niece.

  She had long braided hair, and eyes as blue as crystal. Brightening her face in a smile, the captain was relieved.

  “The heavens keep you safe Sovereign. I am glad to see you have returned. And with allies no less.”

 

  “We did as you hoped, and released the footage as soon as we could.”

  Alysdeon said, looking at the sight of Julian unharmed.

  The captain paused, still stunned at the sight of so many ships. She counted over 15,000 in the vicinity, with apparently many more slated to come.

  “It was just as you imagined,” the woman finally said. “I only wish everything else had gone as planned.”

  Julian was on the other side of the hologram, watching through the layers of light. He then noticed her discomfort, the woman’s face jerking into a wince.

 

  “I apologize Sovereign, but we had no choice but to retreat. Endervar ships have begun surrounding Haven and the rest of the system in large numbers.”

 

  Alysdeon expressed her ease with a smile. But still, the New Terran captain was not consoled. The woman, looking oddly older and more mature than her distant relative, gritted her teeth.

  “I’m sorry. We failed to retrieve her,” she said.

 

  Startled, the woman’s wounded gaze lifted.

  “Did you not receive our last messages?” she asked.

 

  “The enemy interference...”

 

  “Again, I apologize, but your friend,” she explained. “Arendi Soldanas. She’s not with us. She’s on Haven, as we speak.”

 

  “The shield. It may be gone, but the source of the barrier, it’s still active.”

  The captain sent over the detailed scans, the data revealing the faint, but growing energy field. It had been found at Haven’s southern hemisphere, right above a largely uninhabited continent. Once thought to be degrading, the energy’s presence had suddenly come back to life.

  “Arendi was worried. She feared that the gateway had grown unstable. We were working to try and contain it, when enemy ships appeared.”

  With little t
ime left, the Davinity had no choice but to leave Haven’s orbit for a safer position.

  “But Arendi,” the captain explained. “She wouldn’t allow us to fail. Knowing that so much was at stake. So against orders, she left the ship and headed down to Haven by herself.”

  Alysdeon fell silent. The captain continued, expressing her regret.

  There had been too many enemy ships. Too much weapons fire. And not enough time.

  “I’m sorry. However, we think she’s safe. She was sending us messages from Haven. Although with the comm interference… eventually we lost her signal.”

  The Sovereign nodded. But other than that, she was slow to give a response. Through the hologram, she peered past the layers of light and saw Julian on the other side. Looking at each other’s eyes, they exchanged a pained, and troubled glance.

  “Arendi,” he said in a whisper. “You didn’t have to do that…”

  He then turned away from the hologram, but could still hear the Davinity’s captain go on.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I had done more.”

 

  “We held our ground as long as we could, but more enemy ships came,” she said. “Eventually, we had to leave the system altogether. At our last count, there were over 100 ships in the system.”

 

  Alysdeon didn’t want to dwell on it for too long, and so quickly she thanked the commander again, before signing off.

 

  But as she closed the comm channel, Alysdeon stared at Julian, and saw that he had pulled up the scans on an adjacent console screen.

  It appeared as a twisted mirror of their own efforts — the enemy responding in kind.

  Indeed, the Davinity had done well and lifted the shield around Haven. But blocking access to the planet now was a force even more fearsome, and growing by the minute.

  “Over 500 vessels,” Julian said, reading the details. “It’ll probably reach over a two thousand by tomorrow. Maybe even more.”

  He then covered his mouth with a hand, and exhaled in a long and exasperated breath.

  “Arendi,” he said, upset. “What the hell are you doing?”

  ***

  Below her feet was grass. Tiny leaves, both green and soft against the earth.

  She had found herself on a field of them. The plant life continuing on for almost as far as the eye could see.

  Trees. Sunlight. And even sounds. The wind swooshing past her and into the vast forest nearby.

  This is Haven, Arendi thought. Julian’s home.

  She had just touched down on the surface, after enduring what had been a trek through the planet’s atmosphere.

  It was an unconventional mode of travel, but effective — the fabric of space bending to her will and ushering Arendi through the trip down.

  There had been no fire upon re-entry, or any trail of heat. In fact, she had arrived without any ship, or any related vehicle. Arendi only needed the technology that she wore, the nano-suit tapping into the enemy’s power.

  She looked at her wrist, and saw the Endevar particles swirl inside the containment chamber. It held tight and secure around the cold exterior of her metal arm and hand. Looking past her nano-suit, Arendi couldn’t help but feel out of place; the different shades of green and yellow were all lush and vibrant in the background.

  Her position had placed her in an area far away from any populated areas. On a large island that seemed untouched by man or any form of technology.

  So far, she could see no sign of civilization. Only more trees, green hills, and the sun rising from the north.

  It was warm. Like it was spring, or even summer — the wildlife perhaps in full bloom.

  She looked at the ground, and knelt down, the nano-suit pulling back from her skin, and letting her fingers touch the grassy floor.

  Smiling, she gazed across the vast field and toward the forest. Pushed by the wind, the native plants gently swayed in the air, feeling both the wind and the sun. Something else, however, was moving among the trees, the scans detecting it. Arendi switched lenses and could see the heat signatures standing out from the vines and branches.

  From the trees arose the other wildlife, the animals ready to take flight.

  Like birds, they flew. Ten, twenty, maybe more, all together, and gliding on spotted wings of white.

  She followed their path, and only saw more hues of green float in the distance. It was just as he had described. The trees everywhere.

  Remington, Arendi wanted to say. I wonder…

  She wanted to indulge herself, and imagine it. But no. She couldn’t. There was no time for such things. Rising from the ground, Arendi focused. As the fauna teemed across the area, she looked at the real reason why she had come.

  Looming above was the enemy — the gateway to their realm no less deformed. It was a giant breach in the sky, the alien energy pouring out, and lingering a distance over three hundred miles wide.

  The fissure was both growing and shrinking, so desperate to cling on to the planet, even as the physical laws of the universe sought to beat it back. From a distance, Arendi could see the struggle. The fringes of the gateway expanding and percolating, only to fall back and evaporate.

  But this tug-of-war could only go on for so long. According to Arendi’s calculations, either the gateway would explode, and send destructive matter across Haven. Or it would reign supreme, and regenerate the shield around the planet’s atmosphere.

  She accessed the scans, and studied the energy patterns, hoping it was neither. There was nothing conclusive, only the specter of danger.

  “Davinity,” Arendi said, tapping into her comm channel. “Do you read? I’m here on Haven.”

  She could hear the static, mixed in with the faint traces of voice. So she went on, hoping that the crew on board was listening.

  “The gateway is still unstable,” Arendi warned. “I’m sending you data. We need to modify the nullifier with a higher-yield and a different dispersion pattern. I think this will work.”

  She then placed the message on repeat, and continued uploading the data, even as there was still no defined response.

  Arendi could wait and hope. However, for all she knew, the Davinity had been forced to flee. Five Endervar ships had been detected inbound for the Haven. And inevitably more would come.

  If so, then Arendi was on her own. Somehow, she needed to put a stop to the gateway, before it could undo everything they had sought to accomplish. She briefly closed her eyes, and wondered if she had acted rashly. Arendi had disobeyed orders, and tried to take matters into her own hands.

  There was no logic behind it, only a feeling. A burning desire.

  Arendi remembered what he had said. Free my people. You’re the only one who can.

  And so here she was now, on Haven, trying to do just that.

  She looked at her hands, and arms, the nano-suit built to fight this war. This would be no fluke. The shield had its weakness. It could be destroyed.

  She had her doubts. Was this what she really wanted?

  Looking away from the suit, she ignored the gateway and turned her gaze up into the orange sky above.

  Arendi expected nothing in return. But still, she wanted to ask.

  Julian, she thought. Where are you?

  Chapter 66

  The agent had been running the simulations. The hundreds of possible scenarios elapsing by the hour.

  Each one was a battlefield, the figurative pieces always aligned in the same way.

  On one end was the armada of the free galaxy, bursting with brave ships from across sector. And at the other, was the enemy, unmoved by the display, and ready to bring war.

  Repeatedly, they had clashed. Over and over again, the simulations trying to find the road to victory.

  But in almost every scenario, the o
utcome was the same: defeat. Whether it be in this battle, or another down the line, the prospects for triumph seemed out of reach.

  The Ouryan was not surprised. The conundrum had been no different from what it had faced centuries ago. The power of the Endervars still unmatched.

  The agent could easily envision other scenarios. Each one more akin to guerrilla warfare. The Alliance striking and retreating, raiding and then falling back. Repeating this “hit-and-run” process an almost countless number of times, to wear down the threat.

  The strategy, although unrefined, was acceptable. But admittedly, it lacked that “oomph” the Ouryan so wished to achieve. That glory it yearned to capture.

  To face the enemy head-on, and crush it where it stood. The opportunity was there. It was only a matter of how to achieve it.

  Very rarely, if ever, had the Endervars grouped together so many ships in one area. The current estimates put there number at over 4,000. The enemy vacating the entire sector, to protect this single star system.

  It was a bizarre move, and one that left them exposed. But clearly, the liberation of Haven had shaken the Endervar’s resolve. Perhaps they were confused, and still reeling from the destruction of their precious shield. It seemed only fitting to deal the killing blow.

  The free galaxy just needed to find some way to exploit the moment, and take out the main Endervar fleet in one fell swoop.

  The Ouryan wanted to belt out a cruel laugh. Was it even conceivable? Or were they just asking for the impossible?

  Regardless, destruction would come. The man that it once was could feel it. The agent only wished the organics would stop with these incessant messages.

  Like the simulations, one after another they came, most of the information useless.

  The agent was mildly annoyed. It was not in the habit of having regular contact with the organics, let alone being actually known. The Ouryan, now a powerful pariah, had sided with them, and so had to adapt.

  This particularly message seemed no different from the rest. Another suggested strategy. Perhaps, from the old Arcenian admiral, the Alliance’s former supreme commander, a man the Ouryan considered barely competent, but still above most of the rest.