Remember the Starfighter (58 page)

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?

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 outcome 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.

The agent, however, opened the contents and found something else.

Indeed, it was a strategy for the upcoming battle. But it contained unusual and unconventional parameters, in addition to detailed specs of an experimental technology.

Was this simply a theory? Or something real?

Promptly, the Ouryan designed a simulation to incorporate the data, re-arranging the figurative pieces and inserting the spearhead to the strategy.

It had taken longer than expected, but the virtual battlefield was assembled and ready to launch.

“Hmph,” it said, viewing the abrupt outcome.

Nothing shown was conclusive. But the agent realized it was no stranger to the force on display.

Once, not long ago, the agent had been a victim of it. The weapon a new form of devastation.

“Fascinating,” the Ouryan said, coming away satisfied. “You surprise me, yet again, captain.”

The agent found Julian on board the Alliance supply craft, waiting just outside the refit bay.

He was alone and leaning his body over an adjacent window. In the captain’s view was the connecting ship, and the repair net laced over its lacquered ebony skin.

It was a respectable vessel, and bio-mechanical in class. Although perhaps unpredictable and limited in its offensive capabilities, the ship was designed to be fast, and maneuverable. Certainly, not the easiest target to pin down, assuming the pilot was capable enough.

Looking at the specs, the agent also discovered that the ship had a name too. It was always superfluous to bestow such labels, but at least this one felt appropriate.

“Au-O’sanah,” the agent said. “The shadow’s redemption.”

Julian turned around, hearing the Ouryan say the words. What he met was the agent in its human form, the hologram simulating a sneer over the figure’s face.

“Did you look it over?” Julian asked, visibly exhausted, like the man hadn’t slept.

“Indeed.”

“And?”

The Ouryan teetered its head back, and rolled its life-like eyes.

“You don’t approve?” Julian asked, assuming the worst.  

“Oh no, I like this. I like this very much,” the Ouryan said, grinning fiendishly. “However, I do expect you to die.”

Julian shrugged, pretending he didn’t care.

“But it will work. Right?”

The Ouryan grew serious, and clasped its two hands together, pressing the fingers against its holographic lips.

“I’ve been running simulations. And every time, it shows an error. It simply can’t predict what will happen.”

Julian nodded. He had run his own simulations and found the same problem; the current mathematical models were stumped by the phenomena he was trying to tap.

“But I’ve seen what it can do, haven’t I?” The Ouryan asked. “It destroyed my vessel. An Ouryan battlecruiser. Just like that.”

Snapping its fingers, the agent shook its head with a smile, before locking its gaze on the bio-ship outside.

“You have something very special there, don’t you? But do you know how to wield it?”

“That’s what I’ve been working on,” Julian said. “I’ve done a few small-scale tests. Now I’m just trying to improve it. I want to make it as lethal as I can.”

The captain wasn’t simply repairing the bio-ship. He was transferring over quantum amplifiers and power converters to the vessel, the repair bots moving the cargo over through the docking bridge.

“I want to pump as much energy I can into those Endervar particles,” he explained. “It’s what the prototypes… it’s what she was working on, before she left.”

“To weaponize it even further,” the Ouryan surmised. “Impressive.”

The agent could imagine it now. The destruction and all the carnage they could bring. It was a very enticing prospect, although still just an idea, and perhaps a risky one at that.  

“What do you think Destroyer?” Julian asked. “Do we have a shot?”

The agent thought about that. Alterations would be required. More testing done. And perhaps the other fleet commanders would need to be convinced as well. But the Ouryan was unequivocal.

“Oh, we have more than a shot. The enemy will remember this.”

The remark brought out a small smile from the captain’s all-too tired face.

“Still,” the Ouryan added. “I hope you don’t have a death wish.”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t pretend captain. Let me take the lead. You needn’t put yourself in such danger.”

Julian shook his head.

“No. You need the right pilot.”

“Please, I can control your ship with a drone. Or we can—”

“No. This is personal,” the captain said, barely masking his anger. “No offense, but I need to make sure this is done right.”

The Ouryan raised its head, and examined Julian’s determined face.

“I understand,” the agent remarked, happy to see the resolve. “Yet I must say, I don’t really agree with your choice.”

“Why? Aren’t we warriors. Isn’t this what we were trained to do?”

The captain remembered, the remark eliciting a dry smirk from the Ouryan. 

“I’ve had a long life, and perhaps lived for far too long,” the agent answered back. “So I’m more than ready to face the oblivion, and answer for what I’ve done.”

“But as for you,” the agent added. “Although I’m not human, even I know you deserve more.”

The captain, at first, said nothing. The human was probably surprised at the sentiment.

So was the Ouryan.

Are these my words, or are they in some way yours
, the agent wondered.

“This is personal,” the captain repeated again. “I need to do this.”

He wanted to destroy the Endervars, and annihilate every one of them. It was a desire the human would not relinquish, the hatred too much to ignore.

“Very well,” the Ouryan replied, somewhat pleased.

The preparations were already underway. To keep the organics at ease, the old Arcenian admiral would act as the supreme commander of the assembled armada. But only in name. Even the Arcenian battlemaster could not deny the Ouryan’s experience and talent. So the agent would secretly pull the strings, and issue the real orders to the different fleet divisions.

Already, it had summoned its own army. The total ships had numbered at over 40,000.

“I will be your eyes captain. And you will be the sword.”

The captain nodded, the gaze in his face stiffening. The man was ready for war.

“Starfighter,” the Ouryan added. “Show me what you can do.”