Remember the Starfighter (14 page)

“Sadly, I have to go.”

Nalia rose from the bed inside Julian’s quarters, her naked body reaching for her officer’s uniform on the floor.

“Duty calls,” she said.

Julian lay on the bed unclothed, watching as Nalia tied the back of her auburn hair into a ponytail.

“I guess we can’t skip school forever,” he said, reluctantly rising from the bed in his quarters.

Nalia grinned, fitting the communication band around her wrist with a click. “We have to save the world,” she said.

She slipped back into her clothes, tightening the belt around her pants.

“But then who will save us?” he asked.

Julian reached toward Nalia, hugging her around her waist.

“Hah,” she flinched. “Next time, I’ll be saving you all night.”

She sat next to him on his bed, and kissed him.

“What’s this?” he asked. Julian touched the back of her neck. He had noticed the tattoo moments earlier, but only now had the chance to ask. It was an orange flower, the petals drawn like a painting.

“The flower of faith,” she said. “That all we need to do is believe.”

Julian kissed it.

“Are you late for duty?” he asked.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a covert mission. A mission to rescue you.”

“Mission accomplished.”

“What about you?” she then asked. “Or is there a battle you’re about to miss?”

Julian looked off at his own communication band, and found it sitting silently on the bed’s nightstand, the display across it dim as a dead bulb.

“No blinking red lights. Looks like I’m in the clear.”

Nalia put her arm around Julian’s back, and leaned into him.

“When can I see you again?” she asked.

“I’ll still be around for another day. Probably in the hanger bay with the Lightning. You should come by.”

“And then we can start our bounty hunting careers?”

“I’d go AWOL for you.”

“Naughty,” she teased. “I wonder what you were like as a child?”

Julian furrowed his brow.

“Well, you obviously were a troublemaker,” he replied.

“You have such a low opinion of me,” Nalia laughed. “No, it was quite the opposite actually. People thought I was a perfect child. My academy scores were in the top 3 percentile. Everyone thought I was a prodigy.”

“An elite?”

“Just the first two years at academy. Then I sagged off. Later on, it just occurred to me I should just do what I want. And that’s when the trouble began.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“Actually, I don’t remember,” Julian said.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Yeah, I don’t. Not after, well, I had the operation. The accident and all.”

“I’m sorry. I know,” she said, recalling Julian’s military record. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No. It’s nothing. I guess I was a sad kid. Now, I’m just walking around like an animated corpse. A ghost.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not true. You’re fine. You’re perfect.”

“No.”

“You’re special.”

Julian wanted to shake his head, but hesitated upon feeling Nalia’s hand over his own. He looked into her eyes, and felt a warmth.

“You really are beautiful,” he said, kissing her on the lips.

“Don’t hold back, Julian,” she replied. “Just live. Live your life to the fullest.”

Nalia then left, giving him a wink before exiting his quarters. Julian lay in bed, surprised. Already, he missed her, and wondered when he would see Nalia again. Down at his bedside, he reached for his uniform, and saw the silver captain’s insignia on its collar.

“Thanks Nalia,” he whispered. “Thanks for being there.”

Fitting on his clothes, Julian then reached for his communication band, expecting the bracelet to still be asleep. 

It wasn’t. Before he could place it on, Julian felt the vibration in his hand, the pulse going off.

He looked over at the device, and saw that it was no longer dormant. Ominously, the red lights across its display began to flash. He snapped on the device, and read the orders. “Yellow alert,” it said. “Battle stations.”

Moving in the images before his eyes, Julian could see the data displayed on the holo-emitter in his hand. Anxiously, he cycled through the information, checking for any possible misreading in the data flow.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Julian said as he spoke through the comm. “Are you sure?”

But as the data refreshed, the reality became stark. Enemy ships had entered the Bydandia systems, their numbers growing by the minute.

“We’re counting seven Endervar vessels, closing in on our location,” Drayden said remotely through his communication link. “Scans also show more enemy warp signatures emerging from the edge, near Bydandia VII.”

“But I thought we were in the clear,” Julian said. “They shouldn’t be here. They were last spotted over 80 light-years away. And that was weeks ago.”                           

“I know. We took proper precautions, and shielded the captured enemy ship as best as we could. But somehow, they just zeroed-in on our position. Regardless, is your ship ready?”

Standing in the hanger bay, Julian looked off at the Lightning, seeing it powered down and encircled by equipment and automated machines.

“I’m still midway in a refit, I can—”

“Cancel whatever you were doing. You’ll no longer be performing support. Instead, you are the transport. Get your ship flight ready ASAP. The Endervar specimen is already headed to you.”

Julian turned toward the ceiling as the alarms on the station went off. All remaining civilians and non-essential personnel were to evacuate the facility immediately.

“How much longer before the enemy gets here?” 

“We’re hoping our defenses can hold them off,” Drayden said. “But if that fails, weapons fire might start hitting us in twenty minutes. In the meantime, prepare the Lightning for takeoff.”

“Understood, the ship should be ready in minutes.”

“Good. We’ll be mustering whatever we can to cover your escape. I think we can handle this with what remaining man power we have. But the Endervar body is your top priority. Get it to Alliance Command at whatever the cost.”

“But Drayden, what about you—”

“Top priority Julian. I repeat, do not let anything happen to that body. Don’t worry about us. Drayden out.”

The communication link then cut off.

The station alarms continued to blare as Julian began remotely tapping through the Lightning’s systems, ordering it to start take off procedures. One by one, the neon blue lights on the vessel flashed on, the churn of its power systems echoing through the air.

20 minutes. Maybe less. That’s all they had. In the midst of it, Julian could hear the rush of footsteps entering the hanger bay. Officers and support crew were streaming through the facility, yelling out orders and running to a freighter vessel still under repair.

Julian shook his head as he could feel the urgency wash over him. Again, SpaceCore would face off against the Endervars.

The entrance to the hanger bay door opened, a group of staff members standing on the other side. Looming behind them was something large and pod-like.

Julian ran to them, knowing what had to be inside.

“This is the best we could do under the circumstances,” one of the officers said, pointing to the cryogenic chamber. “But the body is secure.”

Julian glanced at the capsule’s glass window. In it, he could see the being — the faceless features, the metal glinting inside. Seemingly, the body was unconscious, submerged in the freezing cold liquid.

Julian then realized this battle would be different. Perhaps, for the first time the free galaxy had stolen something from the enemy. Now, the Endervars had returned. This time, to take back what was theirs.               

Drayden cringed as he watched vessel after vessel disappear from the grid. 

“We’re counting twelve enemy contacts— Too many of them” a voice screamed on the comm link. “Hull breaches— everywhere. All hands abandon—”

“Goddamit,” Drayden said, as he stood in the center of the battle room. Holographic maps and sensor readings surrounded him, as nearby officers manned the different stations. “The Defiance is reporting heavy damage,” a commander behind him shouted. Drayden could only look away in anger, fuming at the lives being lost.

For weeks, they had prepared for the possibility of attack, laying an intricate network of weapon batteries and space mines across the system. But in just minutes, the Endervars had laid waste to the majority of their defenses, the enemy sacrificing their own ships to break through.

“There’s too many of them. And more keep coming admiral.”

He saw the scans. Like a noose, the Endervar ships were circling the inner system, and closing in on their base’s position at the moon. Enemy bombardment continued to escalate, civilian ships even coming under attack.

“Tell alpha and beta fleet to regroup at coordinates one-point-two eight!” Drayden ordered. “Hold this position as long as we can.”

He then motioned his staff to prepare Bydandia’s next defensive plan. Already, satellites around the moon were moving into position. Once fully activated, they’d emit an orbital shield, protecting the base from weapons fire.

“How much longer before we get that salvaged Endervar ship out of here?” he asked.

“Five, maybe ten minutes. We’re still trying to prep it for launch,” an officer said.

“Get that ship off the base now. And make sure all non-essential personnel get to their shuttles.”

There was little time left, as more enemy ships appeared on the scans. Somehow he would have to stop them with what few resources he had. To at least stave off their advance, and buy time. Drayden fully knew what was at stake. But as he groped for a new strategy, he came to discover that this was no random enemy raid.

“Beta group is under heavy attack. The Liberty is going down!”

Every defense was falling, and Drayden could feel it. Looking off at his crew, he wondered if this would be their last stand.

“Admiral,” said an officer. “We have incoming signals.”

Drayden went to look at the readings, checking them twice to see if it was true. He then realized he no longer needed to wonder.

“Cancel the previous orders to the fleet,” he commanded. “Tell all ships to evacuate the system immediately.”

“Lightning,” the comm-link said. “Do you read me?”

Static crackled through Julian’s ears, command’s voice nearly lost to the piercing interference. The enemy bombardment had strangled the communication feeds, weapons fire slashing through space and diffusing on the ship scans.

He charged the Lightning’s defensive systems, his ship gathering speed out past the base’s orbit and into the oncoming war zone. Virtual targeting cross hairs filled the displays shown within his helmet, the tactical computer preparing to engage in evasive maneuver patterns.

Reach the jump point — that was the order. To escape with the Endervar specimen unharmed. The objective appeared on the scans, the ship’s computer leading the way.

“Lightning,” command voiced again. “Hyperspace vector…at zero point 12…”

It was opening, the cosmic gateway growing out of space and time. Acknowledging the order, Julian then sent the Lightning into full-drive. The pulsating weapons fire, the encroaching destruction, none of it mattered now. Emerging was the hyperspace point, its fringes swelling blue and black against the darkness.

“Lightning…vector stable,” command said. “Approach clear.”

He confirmed the order, the vicinity free of enemy activity. But Julian was not alone. Transports, freighters and even military cruisers were all heading to the stable jump point. He counted over fourteen short-range ships, most carrying civilians. At the rear was the heavy battleship, the S.C. Atlas, shields powered and engine speed accelerating.

Make the jump. That was the imperative. In another minute, the convoy would cross on over and into hyperspace. Julian could almost feel the safety at his fingertips, the swirling energies of the gateway in his sights.

“Lightning…azzzrrrrr…kkkkkkrrrrr”

The feed was gargled, scans themselves becoming scrambled.

“Ligtning…aazzddurrrr….ssssskk”

Command continued to fade in and out, the voice barely audible.

“Lightning…Lightning….”

Hearing the urgency in the words, Julian answered back.

“Command,” he said. “Reading you. Respond.”

“Lightning…” the voice warned. “INCOMING!”

The convoy exploded, the darkness bursting into a blistering light. Julian’s ship was knocked off course, the impact sending the vessel into a near tailspin. He felt the force shake and wrench the ship, emergency alarms shrieking inside his helmet. Shields were down at 12 percent, both life support and sensors offline.

Like a scrap of metal, the Lightning flung aimlessly in space, its body spiraling out of control. “Zeta 2, Zeta 3!” he shouted.

Responding to his call, the ship fired off its maneuvering thrusters, the anti-gravity emitter ramping up to full power. Blazing an engine trail, the Lightning slowed its trajectory and corrected course.

“Command, are you there?” he said, sweat dripping down his cheeks. “Took damage. But I’m still here.”

He re-calibrated the sensor array, as static continued to wax and wane over the different bands.

“Command, do you read? I’m blind out here. My sensors are shot.”

“kkrrr….szzzhhh”

“Command, I’m here. Give me eyes. I’ll do my best to calculate.”

With sensors down, he ordered the ship to go into a manual mode. His flight suit reacted, the network of control nodes within the fibers clasping to his arms and hands. The Lightning’s real-time visuals then went online, a 360-degree exterior view enveloping the insides of his helmet.

Using the ship’s cameras, he zoomed in on the location of hyperspace jump point, expecting to see the stirring gateway intact. But to his shock, it was no longer there, the cosmic energies disappearing into stolid space.

“Its…..gone,” command whispered over the feed.

“What? Please repeat.”

“Lightning… it’s gone.

“I know, I’m not seeing it anymore—”

“No, no. The convoy,” command said. “It’s been totally destroyed.”