Remember the Starfighter (12 page)

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

He remembered those words. A simple gesture spoken in that final exchange.

It had been at the station bar, almost a month ago. The moment Nalia had left his sights, a grin still on her face.

Julian didn’t need to think too much of it, he thought. The words were just a courtesy. Nothing more.

Scratching his beard, he sat there in his uniform, half-distracted and half-fatigued. It had been a long mission. Over three weeks long, his time away from Bydandia spent entirely space-bound and surrounded in ship.

Looking down at his open hands, he was no longer clothed in his cybernetic flight suit. Nor was he secluded in insulated silence, or confined to just one mechanized cockpit.

Julian was free of those things. The mission was done. 

Following the long flight, he had found himself back at Bydandia — the Lightning fully docked, the special cargo in tow.

As expected, his arrival had set off a flurry of activity. The entire station was on alert, trying to understand what he had found.

“Glad to have you back,” Drayden said. “And I see you brought a friend.”

The admiral stood across from him inside the debriefing room. In his hand, was the summary log Julian had prepared — the data on the “anomaly” and the associated scans lit across the display.

“I asked you to track the Endervars, and instead you go out and get me this,” Drayden remarked. He nodded to the adjacent window, the view into the hanger bay containing both the Lightning, and the supposed Endervar craft.

The admiral was ecstatic. He studied the data tablet in his hands, and sat down on top of the briefing table, his face flushed with excitement.

“Goddamn Endervars are finally in our grasps,” the admiral went on. “The Alliance will want to know about this.”

But as Drayden went over the logs, Julian sat forward, still unsettled.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Tapping his knee, Julian then rose to his feet, cautious to make any conclusion.

“Why now?” he asked, stepping toward the window. “Why this ship? Why is it so different from the others?”

He stared out at the salvaged vessel, and saw it under the station lights. The blast damage was even more evident now, the scars gnarling across the mineral-like structure, and etching into the hardened hull.

This shouldn’t exist, Julian thought. It should have expired like all the others.

“You’re right,” the admiral replied. “It is unusual. Very unusual.”

He left the table behind him, and joined Julian at the window.

“I suppose we shouldn’t get our hopes up. But still, the data you gave me. And that design. The clues, they all point to the enemy, don’t they?”

Julian wiped his eyes, not sure what to say.

“I don’t know,” he said again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “If I had to make a guess, then yes. Maybe it’s some sort of variant. A scout. Something we haven’t seen before.”

He was just speculating now, his mind too tired to think of anything else.

The admiral gently patted him on the shoulder.

“Either way. Good work. We’ll get our crews working on this immediately. I’ve already ordered a quarantine.”

Julian nodded, and pressed his knuckle to his chin. He knew he could spend hours more going over the logs, and doing everything to try and solve the puzzle before them.

But instead, Julian was tired, and more than ready to move on.

“If that’s all, I’d like to end the debriefing,” he said.

“Yes, of course,” Drayden replied. The admiral then extended his arm over Julian’s shoulder, and ushered him to the door.

“Take some time off. Get a good meal. You’ve earned it. I’ll be in contact, and let you know the progress.”

Giving a salute, Julian then left the room.

Much of the base had become quiet. The refugees that once sat and slept in the halls had all been evacuated. So many beds, chairs, and cargo boxes, all empty and left out in the open.

Since Julian had been gone, over 80 percent of the civilians in the system had departed for the Isen colony. The rest continued to wait, the new transports coming in by the day.

Thankfully, the evacuation was moving along better than expected. Spare vessels from the Terran Hegemony had begun arriving two weeks ago, the ships tasked to support the cause, and ferry away whatever refugees they could.

Things were obviously winding down. The final exodus close to complete.

Even military operations had begun to migrate. From what he could see, nearly half of the existing crew, or more, had been re-assigned — the destination off in some other sector, where SpaceCore hoped to begin anew.

He walked the vacant hallways, thinking that maybe she was gone.

Logs, however, showed that Nalia was still on board. In fact, her present location was at the base’s bar. The same spot where they had previously left off.

He entered and heard the noise. Unlike the rest of the station, the room was nearly full. The workers were drinking and chatting, the time showing that a duty shift had just ended. Throngs of people, mainly engineering crews, sat at tables, while others stood with beverages in hand, none of any whom he recognized. Walking past the crowds, he searched through the faces, and saw the expressions of joy and excitement, talk of his discovery already in the air.

Growing impatient, Julian finally turned his gaze to a corner of the room, the very place he had sat with Nalia three weeks ago. It was there he found her sitting in the booth. A bright smile appeared across her lips, her long auburn hair let loose down her neck. She looked almost exactly the same as she did before. Only this time, she was not with Julian, but with someone else entirely.

Sitting next to her was a man, his arm draped over her shoulders. Julian could see that they were both laughing, the joke obviously lost to him. As he stepped forward through the crowd, he could see they were now getting close. Nalia had her hand on the man’s chest, moving it to feel his muscles. The man responded, taking his head closer and starring into her eyes. He then held her by tip of the chin, and kissed her, almost passionately.

Nalia, however, pulled away. Like it was still soon.

Julian saw it all, wishing that he was mistaken. That maybe it was just a mirage.

But as the crowd around him receded away, he could see that it was indeed her. The same smile, the same eyes, the same demeanor, all of it there, just as he remembered. It was then he could tell that she had seen him as well, the passing glance, only a second, but the awareness oh so clear.

Briefly, their eyes connected, the moment nothing of feeling, but one of understanding. Nalia then returned his attention to the man she had kissed, almost acting as if Julian was but a stranger lost in the background. In return, Julian did the same, moving through the mass of people, and leaving the bar altogether.

It was only a fleeting memory, he told himself as he walked alone. Just a courtesy, nothing more.

The Lightning was a hawk of a starship, aerodynamic in design, with two wings that spread from its dagger-like body. The prototype vessel lay powered down within the secluded hanger bay, its silver structure looming over its four retractable landing arms. Glancing at its exterior, the admiral walked closer, paying little heed to the ship itself. Instead, he had come for its pilot.

Angling his head down closer to the floor, Drayden heard the turn of the metal gears creak from below.  

“You know, we have engineers that can do this for you,” he said.

The admiral eyed the long barrel of the phase canon under the ship, only to see the two legs hiding under the shadow.

Laying down at the floor, Julian rose past the weapon and flicked the sweat away from his face. “Sorry sir,” he said, saluting with a wrench configurator in his hand. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“At ease,” Drayden said, still concerned. “The duty officer told me you’ve been here for the past two days. Is there something wrong with the ship?”

Julian exhaled and scratched the back of his head with the other end of the configurator.

“No, not really,” he replied. “I guess I just wanted something to do.”

He was embarrassed to say it, but Julian didn’t wish to lie.

There had been no other duties to perform, and almost nowhere else to go. Walking back to the tray of tools, Julian put the configurator away, and sealed the container shut.

In truth, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Drayden raised an eyebrow, but he could easily sympathize.

“Is she a good ship?” he asked.

They both looked at the Lightning, and then paced around its footprint.

Julian couldn’t complain. This was the best ship he had ever piloted before. Placing a hand on the cold metal, he pressed his fingers into the surface, and felt the bulkhead flex.

“I’d say she’s Gray Squadron worthy,” he said.

Pleased, the admiral took his hand, and tapped his fist against the ship’s hull.

“You were always good with starships. Damn good I might say.”

Hearing this, Julian backpedaled, and shrugged. 

“No. It’s just luck,” he replied. “Just dumb, stupid luck.”

It was a knee-jerk reaction. Julian’s attempt to dodge any compliment. He didn’t wish to delve into it, but the admiral had more to say. Raising his voice, Drayden tried to pull him back.

“What’s lucky is that one my best pilots has returned to SpaceCore,” he said. “The truth is, when you’re at the helm, I don’t have to worry.”

Julian shook his head, and folded his lips. He didn’t want Drayden to say anymore

Letting his gaze drift from the Lightning, he stared down at the floor, pensive. To him, the praise couldn’t mask the other truth.

“Gray Squadron,” Julian said in a sigh. “We’re all that’s left, aren’t we?”

He looked to the admiral, hoping for a better answer. But there was none. Drayden’s face was just as a vacant. 

“I’m sorry,” Julian said. Not wanting to stir up the past, he tried to change the subject, and glanced at the confines of the hanger bay.

“I just needed to come here,” he said, mustering a smile. “Something to do. A distraction I suppose.”

He didn’t need to apologize or explain. The admiral knew it wouldn’t be easy to let go. Leaning against the ship’s hull, Drayden smirked at Julian, trusting that he was ready to understand.

“Looking after starships is one thing,” the admiral replied. “But have you thought about what you want to do when this is over?”

“Over? You mean once we evacuate to Isen?”

“Yeah.”

He paused and then shook his head. Julian had no idea what to say.

“In all honesty, the thought never occurred to me. What with the war and all.”

The admiral nodded, not surprised, but almost expecting the remark.

“I guess, we’re lucky then. We actually have a future to look forward to,” Drayden said.

Knowing that the admiral was right, Julian looked back at the Lightning, and wondered about his own fate and where it might be.

“While you think about that, I’ve got quite a bit of news regarding your discovery.”

The admiral took the data tablet from his waist, and accessed the confidential files, before handing it over to Julian.

He quickly skimmed through the contents, looking for the conclusion. After four days of analysis, Bydandia’s research crew had only come up with scraps.

“As far as we can tell, it is an Endervar ship,” Drayden explained. “Although a very peculiar one. I wish we had more research equipment to work with, but the few scientists we have are doing the best they can. ”

“Do they have any idea how it was disabled?” Julian asked. “How it remained intact? My guess was the Arcenians were testing new weapons tech out there.”

“Not from what we can tell. It seems like the battle damage on the ship was caused by an explosion, perhaps from a standard tri-kendium plasma beam. Strange I know. But for now, we’re still investigating.”

“Then, I’m just glad I could pick up the pieces.”

The admiral grinned and waved his hand to Julian.

“Come with me,” he said. “I’ve got a few things I want to show you.”

The Endervar craft hovered before him, no longer dormant, but completely active. It glowed like a star, the once glassy husk subsumed entirely in light.

Drayden had taken him to the quarantined hanger bay where the recovered ship had been housed. They now stood in the secure room, overlooking the vessel through a large window.

“The ship’s been like this for the last three days,” Drayden said. “We’re not sure what set it off, but we speculate it was the scanning equipment. For all we know, the ship can feed off of certain kinds of energy.”

“Is it a threat?” Julian asked.

“Except for the intense radiation, no, we don’t think so,” Drayden replied. “We’ve been using our robots to try and shut the damn thing off. So far no luck. At least the hanger bay is shielded. But the radiation is interfering with everything.”

Julian looked at the craft, and felt the intense glare. It was the same as all the other Endervar ships: bright and nearly blinding, the aftereffect almost washing out everything else in white.

“Funny thing is, the ship contains actual machinery. We’ve read a skeletal framework of metal inside. Totally different from any other Endervar craft we’ve encountered. It might explain why the vessel didn’t disintegrate.”

Drayden activated the holo-emitter in the room, and pointed to the floating image. The scans showed a craft ribbed with advanced, but familiar metals. 

Julian walked toward the hologram, alarmed.

“Maybe the enemy is trying to assimilate our technology,” Drayden said. “Obviously, that can’t be good.”

“You told me there was something else.”

“That’s the next thing I wanted to show you.”

Using the data tablet, the admiral accessed the next batch of files, and sent them to the holo-emitter. Appearing before Julian was a live video feed linked to the station’s “Laboratory 1.” The camera panned downward and overlooked what appeared to be a group of scientists, clad in quarantine suits. He peered closer and saw that they were working on something, the object lying still on an operating table. 

“What is this?” he asked.

Julian thought he saw a machine, the outer shell coated entirely in silver. But it was more than that, the construct built with arms and legs, the features undeniably humanoid. At its shoulders, lay a faceless head, a scar of black etched across the metal skin.

“It’s what we found inside the Endervar ship, just hours ago.”

Julian looked back at the commander in disbelief.

“I know,” Drayden said. “Our first look at the enemy.”

The being lay lifeless on the operating table, as the scientists continued to surround it. He could further see that its body had taken extensive damage, pieces of metal bent and misshapen across the torso and chest.             

“I always thought the Endervars would be more alien.” Julian said.

“Well, from what we can tell in our preliminary scans, the being is artificial. We’re reading some kind of nano-technology. Nothing organic. As we speak, the tiny machines are repairing the damage.”

“This must be the pilot then,” Julian said. “Do we know anything else?”             

“No, not with what few scientists we have left here. This Endervar body has just created a lot more questions. But unfortunately, we won’t be able to answer them. Not now at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Alliance is demanding to see our captive, and the Endervar ship. It’s an Omega Priority.”

“This is about a mission, then?”

Drayden nodded.

“You’ll provide support for a task force we’re assembling to transport both the body and the recovered Endervar ship. Standard stuff. You’ll leave in two days.

A routine escort mission, Drayden explained. But for Julian, it was perhaps his last. Once the cargo was deposited, Julian would not return to the enemy lines. Rather, he would depart with the rest of the SpaceCore and leave behind Bydandia for good.

“Next time I see you, we’ll be light-years away from all of this,” Drayden said.

Julian understood and the two men saluted. But as he left the room, the admiral still had one more thought he wished to convey.

“Don’t forget,” he added. “Remember about what I said.”

Although Julian’s mind was still on the mission, Drayden pushed him to think beyond it.

“When we arrive on Isen, it’ll be a new start for everyone,” the admiral said. “Maybe for once we can all just live like normal people.”