Remember the Starfighter (57 page)

The agent watched from every location it could access. The consciousness moving through ship, planet, and even into the heart of the Union to bear witness.

“The upheaval,” the Ouryan said. “It grows.”

As expected, the footage of the liberated world had generated an outpouring of support. The sudden response potentially culminating into its own galactic movement.

However, the sentiment had not been lost to the Union. Even members of the various collectives had been affected. Perhaps moved by the plight of their former brethren. 

The “inferior masses” were rising. The billions upon billions of the recently converted no longer wishing to remain silent. In a flood, they had thrown their backing to the Sovereign and her cause, forgetting the collapser and all that the Unity had sought to accomplish.

The shift was in the air, the Ouryan masses equally in awe. No doubt it would continue, the festering support demanding the Union take action.

But in spite of all this, none of it would matter.

Not today. Not ever.

The Unity was the one to have true dominion over the Union. And so in all its infinite wisdom, the great hive mind had made its decision and sent out the decree.

The war could not be won, it had declared. To think otherwise, would be futile. No other action would be tolerated. Only silence and obedience were necessary.

The agent was not in the least surprised. Its masters would not stray from the conclusion they had made over two centuries ago — that the Endervars were too vast and simply unstoppable. That to fight them would only delay the inevitable.

The agent recalled it all, and scoffed, the derision entering the cold recesses of where its masters lay. 

-- You oppose us?

The audience asked the question, very aware of the agent’s presence, and its indecision to complete the previous task.

The Ouryan, in its own way, looked back in disgust.

“Hmph,” the agent said. “Will we simply become a shadow to the Endervars?”

The audience was listening and very displeased with the response.

-- Why do you protest? Our aims are greater than this war. 

“Your aims... You seek godhood, and yet you act like a coward.”

-- SILENCE! Do not let your weakness cloud your judgment.

The words arrived like a boom, piercing the hushed and near breathless surroundings.

The agent sighed, wanting to roll its eyes.

“I merely seek to fight. To do what I was born for.”

-- You were born to serve us. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The agent could sense the biting disdain from the audience; the Ouryan and its masters were clearly at odds. 

--
You grow insolent and wayward. Devolving...Undefined...

But it was more than just that, the remarks hiding the true concern. Even the Ouryan could feel it. In fact, it had felt this sensation many times before. The hunter closing in on its prey.

“Do you fear me?” the agent asked. “Fear my power?”

The scoff from the audience was just as derisive as its own. The accompanying chatter like a cackle within the shadows.

The Unity knew its champion well. And so they responded in kind, offering their own, thinly-veiled insult.

-- Why do you defy us now? Like you did before? Have you learned nothing? Nothing from your failure...

The Ouryan felt the contempt. The frigid words trying to prick at its will.

“That again?” the agent replied, sarcastically. “My most glorious moment.”

-- Or your most humiliating defeat...

The agent felt the sting, the figurative wounds from that age-old failure still fresh.

It had been why the Ouryan had been reduced to its current position; the battle had been stricken from the records, but not forgotten by its masters.

-- You did the unthinkable. Sacrificing seven fleets, all in a vain attempt to destroy it.

“The Overlord,” the agent replied. “I will not run from it...Never.”

The isolated conflict had taken place almost three centuries ago — the Endervar mothership smashing through a star system home to 8 billion lives.

The order had been clear, the concession made. Retreat on sight, and stand down, the Union had declared. There would be no action this time. The order final.

-- So why did you disobey us? What did you seek to accomplish?
 

“I could not let the indignity continue...”

And so, at the cost of seven fleets, the agent had tried to do the impossible. It had sought to destroy the Overlord vessel, with every resource available, only to leave the fray defeated and disgraced.

-- Tens of thousands of ships lost, and for what? The Overlord still survives...

“I regret nothing,” the agent said. “I only wish I did more.”

-- Yet you paid a heavy price...

“Indeed. To teach me obedience, was it not?”

Following the incident, not only had the agent been stripped of its duties, but the Union had ordered a “re-processing” to rectify the alleged flaws within its mind.

-- Perhaps another re-processing is in order. Or maybe a full eradication is required.

It was another threat. The Unity once more disappointed with its creation.

The desire was obviously there. That need to cleanse the Union of its “organic proclivities” and begin anew. Other enforcers were ready to be deployed, all bred with far more loyalty, and empty of any gall.

Although the Unity was tempted, it could not so easily discard its champion. One more chance would be given. One more mission to prove its worth.

The agent read the order. 

“Interrogate and then dispose of Captain Nverson, along with Sovereign Davinity...”

-- It has been decided. The Union will have no part in this wasteful crusade. They represent a threat to our plans.

“So you will not even entertain the notion. The thought of a true alliance?”

--The organics are inferior and weak. We wish to lay claim to Arendi Soldanas.

“Yes, and perfect your precious collapser. Even as the Endervar shield can already be lifted.”

-- Do not question us. Follow your orders. That is all.

The audience had turned silent, but impatiently it waited, expecting an imminent and swift execution.

Reluctantly, the agent accessed the sensory data, and saw the Alliance vessel, still well within Ouryan territory.

The ship was lightly armed, and had been tasked to help advise the Union on the collapser’s deployment. Moreover, it was surrounded by Ouryan ships, drones and defensive systems of every kind.

To cripple it would be easy. And if the agent would not complete the task, then someone else would. Already, it could feel the other ships from the Union activating in the vicinity, presumably ready to target the Alliance vessel, and gut it dry.

No, there would be no need for that.

“There is an alternative,” the agent said. “Another way...”

-- And what is that?

“Hmph...” it replied, taking a moment to try and explain. But what came instead was a long, and almost diabolical laugh.

Its masters would not understand. Nor should they. The irony a human concept. 

It had happened a moment ago, the message arriving from the sentinel on board the Alliance ship.

The agent expected to read a request for action. And so it was. But not from the individual it imagined, the sentient A.I. mysteriously absent from the projection.

On the other end, was the human captain of all people, standing among a gathering of other organics.

He extended out an open hand.

“Destroyer,” he said confidently. “The galaxy calls upon you to fight the Endervars. Will you join us?”

It was an amusing plea. The captain pointing back. His face was largely composed and resolute, but his eyes still displayed that hint of doubt.

The Ouryan laughed some more.

The irony. Of all the beings in the galaxy, it was these humans who understood what the Ouryan really desired.

Again, the captain had made an incorrect, albeit flattering, assumption.

No, the agent did not care for the organics. Or for its own people, or for the Unity. It would not fight for the galaxy. Or for any just and moral cause.

No, it would fight for itself. To the agent, only the glory mattered.

“I tire of this Union...” the Ouryan finally said. “I will have my satisfaction.”

It could already envision it, the preliminary scans showing the movement across the galactic sectors. Endervars ships of every class, were converging and moving back to the one location. The very place where liberation had begun.

The Ouryan relished it. The idea of going there as well.

-- You dare? You dare oppose us?

“I do.”

-- Then die!

It masters made the attempt. An act that should have further enslaved its creation, and destroyed it in that very moment. The order from the Unity came. The surge of doctrine plunging down to crush its very being.

The Ouryan felt the sensation. A deathly sensation that soon evaporated into nothing.

The agent remained. The order mysteriously annulled.

The Unity sent it again. And again. Not knowing why the order had failed, only to witness everything wither away.

-- How? This cannot be?

The agent stood tall, unaffected. Even the Ouryan was slightly surprised. The man’s secret had actually worked.

“Richard…” the Ouryan said. “You knew I could not resist.”

It thought back to that package. The one the former human had sent off in his final demise.

Inside was a highly encrypted code. A code that the human had failed to fully understand, but which he knew could disrupt the very foundations to the Union.

The Ouryan, however, had managed to decrypt it. Only those who had touched the Unity could. 

-- What have you done? Our authority…

“Yes. You have lost it…”

By equipping and deploying the secret code, the Ouryan had gained access to the Unity’s root infrastructure. The agent could feel it all. An entire empire in its hands.

Maybe it would not last. But at least for now, the Ouryan had taken almost complete control.

-- No. Have you gone mad? What will you do?

“I think you know.” 
 

The upheaval would become an insurrection, the agent displaying its influence and using its vast presence to assert command. 

“I am taking what is mine.”

The bid for power immediately extended to the surrounding territory, affecting every Ouryan construct present. Warships that had once been loyal to the Unity had been purged clean, and brought into the fold of the agent’s will.  

But the subversion would also gone far beyond. Into thousands of other vessels, drone armies, and supply ships, to even entire facilities residing throughout the Union.

The ripple effect was jarring — the networks under the agent’s control dwarfing what any had imagined. Few from the Union had ever sown such turmoil, the heretical action amounting to mutiny.

-- This will not last, deviant. We will hunt you down, and annihilate you. We do not fear you.

The Ouryan chuckled. The threat merely added to its sense of euphoria.

“Then you will learn to fear me,” it replied. “For I am the Destroyer.”

Appalled, the audience then vanished, lurching back into the shadows. The Ouryan was pleased, and returned itself to its new domain.

In another display of its power, the agent sanctioned it, and initiated the self-destruct sequence.

It set off a blaze of destruction, the adjacent field of Ouryan collapsers exploding into debris.

Although it was unnecessary, the agent could not resist the temptation, nor the shock value. To bathe the stars with the remains of its masters’ plans, the resulting satisfaction could only be described as “liberating.”

The agent laughed. But the Ouryan was still hungry for more. The man that it once was had not even begun.

It sent the orders to star systems far and wide, and instructed the sentinel on board the Alliance vessel to act as its emissary. 

Fleets would need to be organized, and strategies for every situation would have to be devised. But to this, the Ouryan could only sense the approaching glory at hand.

Accessing the comm, the agent then finally replied to the human’s plea.

“Prepare yourself captain,” it said. “What is to come may be the greatest battle the galaxy has ever seen.”

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 time 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.

<
Please dock with us and let the crew know, we intend to go back to Haven. And soon.>

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?”