Remember the Starfighter (62 page)

“Brace for impact!”

Julian shouted the words, half-expecting death.

It was not a particle beam, but space turned rampant. The enemy fighting fire with fire. It came as a poison rippling through the vacuum, the Overlord wielding its influence at every turn.

Julian saw the effect. The reality warped and weaponized, but this time redirected at the Au-O’sanah and a surrounding group of drones.

It hit with the force of a bomb, the ships violently veering off path and tearing apart. Stumbling to the floor, Julian clung to the bridge’s railing, and heard the Au-O’sanah screech.

At one moment, they were moving in an evasive, but ordered path. In the next, they were spinning out of control. He felt the hit, the defending drones exploding to the impact, and the torrent of fresh debris and fire crashing into the Au-O’sanah. Shields were down, the outer hull exposed. The ship screamed. The Au-O’sanah was being burned alive.

Julian tapped his implant, trying to maneuver the ship away from the onslaught. “Hang on!” he said. But still, the Au-O’sanah was struggling to react to his guidance, the ship knocked into a daze.

Alysdeon was barely standing, her two hands holding the side of the console display, as the bridge continued to sway.

She bit her lip, feeling the ship reel. The Au-O’sanah was falling back, plunging against the tattered remains of so many dead drones, the craft tossed aside like a rag doll.

“Just hold on,” Julian said, reaching for the manual controls. “Activating auxiliaries.”

As the thrusters ignited, the Au-O’sanah began to jerk back into control. Julian then set a course away from the fallout, the ship wounded and barely mustering much engine strength.

He wiped the sweat from his face, relieved that they had finally regained some footing. As for everything else, Julian stood back watching in dread. On the scans, he saw that most of the surrounding drones had been destroyed, the losses rising to over 700 unmanned ships.

But worse yet was the other attack taking place, the Overlord swatting away at anything to come near its path. He witnessed the vessels fall, the machine fleet and the giant battleships crumbling before his eyes.

“Sentinel Mega,” Julian said. “He’s down. So are the Ouryan juggernauts.”

This was pure carnage. A devastation few might survive. Julian could dodge the particle beams, but not this. The gravity magnified, and sent whipping out through space.

It was the Overlord’s own form of power: the rules of reality broken, and remade to serve their new master. Targeting the approaching ships, the enemy had tried to crush them from afar, letting the harnessed gravity choke the Au-O’sanah and throw it violently off course.

Julian felt barely alive, his heart racing.

“Did we do any damage to it? Anything?”

He looked to the scans, hoping to at least find some evidence of change.

Alysdeon said from behind.

Julian then pulled up the visuals, and saw the enemy ship on the main view screen.

“Nothing, not a goddamn thing,” he said, watching as the vessel continued to sprawl forth, unaffected.

He shook his head, feeling like a fool.

Twice they had tried it — hoping to cut down the Overlord, with its own form of power. Escorted by thousands of unmanned ships, Julian had laid the trap, warping the space into an abyss. But no matter what the effort, the enemy was simply immune. It approached re-molding the bounds of reality, before they could pose a danger. Then it retaliated, casting out ruin.

Particle beams erupted from the vessel, followed by concussive strikes, the graveyard around the giant ship expanding. Surging forth, the Overlord continued with its attack, targeting the rest of the armada, and unleashing another bombardment.

“Main power is down,” Julian said. “So are primary engines.”

He was accessing the manual controls, as Alysdeon rushed to make the adjustments.

she said, ordering the commands through her mind.

The hull breach was already being sealed, a force field temporarily in place. But engine speed continued to sag. With no other choice, Julian issued the distress call.

“Negative, no damage to enemy contact,” he reported to command. “We are down.”

He repeated the message, only to hear the emergency alert.

“It’s the Ouryan,” Julian said. “Counterstrike commencing.”

As the Overlord moved to attack, so did the armada. What arrived was the force of over hundred capital ships, spread across the system, but bombarding the Overlord with every arsenal in their possession. It came both far and wide, the ensuing strikes blazing through the space from all directions, and locking on to the single enemy target.

Julian saw the blasts, the long-range torpedoes and plasma beams striking on the enemy surface, as a column of anti-matter charges homed in and went off. The ammunition was enough to shatter a planet, the fire only adding to the encroaching enemy light.

Julian could see nothing now. The view screen was awash in white, the scans just as scrambled, and failing to record the readings. Hundreds of other drones were joining the fight, dropping more anti-matter charges into the Overlord’s path.

The armada was relentless, the Ouryan at command, and doing everything in its power to stop the enemy once and for all. They sought to sally forth and take on the enemy, regardless of any obstacle. But Julian knew it would not be enough. No matter the resistance, the dust would settle, and still the outcome would be the same.

He heard it over the comm: “Enemy shields holding.”

From the cloud of devastation, arose the Overlord, intact and undeterred. No damage. None at all. The armada had only briefly slowed the ship’s advance.

As the giant vessel overshadowed and pushed past the incoming explosions, Julian reluctantly watched the images, almost ready to concede. The Alliance had assembled one of the largest fleets in history, and still the mission was in jeopardy. The Overlord simply could not be matched.

Julian examined the scans, and saw the danger. Not only was the enemy mothership attacking, but so was the rest of the Endervar fleet. It would only be a matter of time, before more Alliance ships would fall, the enemy cutting past the unmanned drones to attack the central vessels.

They were losing the battle. If not now, then soon.

Fuming, Julian pinched his lips, about to say it. Retreat — although he hated the very idea, what else could be done?

Pressing his tired face into his hand, Julian thought he had nothing more to give, his mind, and even the ship, spent. He looked into his hand, and saw all the dried blood splattered against his inner palm.

“No. No. No, no…” he heard over the comm. “Come now, are you really done?”

Julian flinched, thinking that perhaps it was his own imagination. The playful tease cutting through the fear. But to his surprise, it was real. His doubts met with a jarring, but whimsical laugh.

Through the comm came the chuckle, the Ouryan on the other end, infinitely amused. The agent had answered the Au-O’sanah’s distress signal, and arrived with a group of combat drones. Moving in a net of machines, they quickly surrounded the ship with a fresh force field.

“You’re missing out on all the fun,” the Ouryan said in delight, the tone in complete contrast to Julian. The man then laughed again, as the armada launched another round of anti-matter bombs.

“Fight on,” the agent told him. “Don’t tell me you’ve run out of tricks.”

The words were meant only in jest, the cackle over the comm becoming chronic. Julian, however, knew that the Ouryan was right. Indeed, he was holding something back.

“You’re right,” he replied. “This is it.”

If there was any hope of destroying the Overlord, it would be with the Au-O’sanah. Turning around, Julian looked at the arch in the bridge, and walked toward the chamber of Endervar particles.

They were still there, dormant and degraded, but with more than enough capacity for one more run.

“How are we doing on repairs?” he asked.

Julian saw Alysdeon, working diligently to restore the ship. Floating in the air next to her was a hologram of the vessel’s interior, the starboard side still lit in emergency red. She wrapped her hair into a ponytail, her implants flickering in gold, and then pointed to the damage.

“But can we fly?”

Alysdeon was about to answer, when she saw the expression on Julian’s face. It was a simple question, but followed with a grim look.

Julian was actually asking for much more. She felt it through his thoughts, the plan starting to take shape.

Julian nodded, about to explain.

Alysdeon shook her head, and raised her open hand to stop him. He didn’t need to. She already knew.

The Au-O’sanah echoed the very same sentiment.

--To the end.

He scratched the back of his head, still unsettled.

“I’m not even sure it will work… You don’t have to do this.”

Holding her head up high, Alysdeon stood confidently. She wasn’t afraid and nor was the ship. In fact, she was proud. It was what Julian needed to hear and see: the support absolute.

He knew he was asking for too much. But ultimately, the mission was all that mattered, and nothing else. In his mind was the tactic: to send the Au-O’sanah flying into the enemy target.

It was a last-ditch maneuver, but one that all starfighters knew.

Julian, however, wouldn’t just simply send his ship on to a collision course. He sought to use the Endervar particles one last time.

“We’ll warp the space ahead of us,” he said, preparing the course.

The effect would place the abyss of distorted space in front of the ship, and inevitably destroy the Au-O’sanah as it approached the target. Julian and the ship would be ripped apart. But if everything went as hoped, so would the Overlord.

“Just give me as much as power you can. All we need is one shot.”

Alysdeon went to the arch at the bridge and accessed the mechanism containing the Endervar particles.

He then signaled the Ouryan, and the rest of the fleet. Julian did not want to go in details. All he needed was an opening.

“This isn’t over,” he said. “Moving to engage enemy contact. Can you give me another bombardment?”

Hearing the request, the Ouryan obliged.

“Consider it done.”

This was not what he wanted. But it would have to do.

“Duty calls,” Julian whispered, touching the winged insignia on his collar. He breathed out and gave a sad smile. Reluctantly, he let his finger fall away from the feathered metal. 

He didn’t have to think much about, even as his death right was around the corner. No matter the outcome, the galaxy would fight on. Julian just needed to do his part.

The chatter over the comm continued, the chaos distilled in frantic words and computerized orders. Targeting the Overlord, the armada had just fired the heavy salvo against the enemy mothership, the impacts cutting through space.

“Still no effect. Enemy shields holding,” the command network sounded.

Julian, however, could hear almost nothing. His mind had moved past the chatter, and instead focused solely on the rhythm of the ship.

They were moving: the intercept course set, the tertiary shields in place. Tapping his implant with his two fingers, he sent the next order with a thought.

“Accelerate. Just give me everything you have,” he said.

Julian closed his eyes, and felt the engines burn; the kinetic charge was sending the ship faster and faster through the battlefield, as the defending drones followed.

He exhaled softly, blowing out the air, and cherishing what he thought to be those final breaths.

“Yes,” he whispered, clenching his teeth in a grin. In a few minutes, they would be there, facing the enemy, for what would be the last time.

Opening his eyes, he found the Overlord in full view, looming over a fog of gas, and flames. Firing off another round of particle beams, the enemy was closing in on several Alliance carriers. But not for long.

Julian was ready. Taking a glance over his shoulder, he looked at Alysdeon. She was standing next to the containment chamber, and enshrouded in the yellow light of the surrounding holographic scans.

Unfazed by all that they had endured, Alysdeon placed her hands firmly on the control pad. She was determined, and blinked back with her violet eyes.

“Ready?” Julian asked.

He then felt the warmth over his skin, the ship embracing the moment. The Au-O’sanah may have been crippled, but it would not go down. Not yet.

Cobbling what power they had left, Julian pressed the implant on his temple, about to execute the maneuver. In a penetrating path, the Au-O’sanah would fly through the trailing explosions and attack the Overlord from behind. If anything, the leftover weapon discharges would mask the ship’s presence in the seconds right before the final strike.

Julian thought it close to done, the course seemingly set.

“If this doesn’t work, order the retreat,” he told command, as the comm began to crack with interference. He then signaled the surrounding drones, the projected shield cementing around the Au-O’sanah.

Alysdeon said, inputting the sequence.

In the corner of his eyes, Julian saw the shadow from the captured particles begin to emerge.

“Not yet,” he said. “Standby. Enemy ships incoming.”

Lost among the initial scans, and the approaching carnage, was the emergence of the new contacts. Moments ago, the Overlord had released close to a dozen enemy vessels from the rear. They came like obstacles, the city-sized ships passing by the Au-O’sanah in smears of light, and crying out with a burst of particle beams.

The weapons fire throttled around the Au-O’sanah, as the vessel tunneled through, protected by an army of drones.

Accessing the conventional weaponry, Alysdeon began firing off a score of torpedoes and anti-matter charges from the ship’s stern. It arrived as a trail of bombs that ruptured through space, and left a line of inferno. 

“Hold steady,” he said, urging the Au-O’sanah to push forth. They were passing through wreckage, plasma smoke, and breaking past more particle beam fire to reach it: the Overlord coming closer by the second.

“Just a little more,” he said, feeling the ship quake. “Closing in on target, calculating path.”

As the ship’s sensors analyzed the enemy’s shield strength, Julian went to the visual readings, and took another glance.

The Overlord was as large as ever, and glaring through the image in a screen of white. Julian suddenly felt like he was battling a planet, rather than a ship, as the coming gravity began to spike.

It was now or never. With what time they had left, Julian looked over the scans, and made the choice.

“Locking on,” he said, plotting the adjusted course through the chaos. A few moments left, and that would be it. “Standby. On my mark.”

Julian was about to issue a countdown, the words on the tip of his tongue, as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. No more running, he told himself. Julian aimed to stab at the Overlord, and take it down, with his one last act.

“Got it,” he said, expecting to make the final statement.

3. 2. 1. Engage. All he needed to do was say it.

It would not come. In spite of all his efforts, Julian would never have the chance to say the words.

“Wait… Standby.”

The readings were changing, the proximity alert going off. “Recalculating,” he said, trying to compensate.

Julian sought to correct the course, thinking that this was his chance. The Overlord, however, was veering away, the speed of the vessel changing.

He felt a lump in his throat, as he saw the scans. The approach vector was off, the Au-O’sanah nowhere close to reaching its predicted destination. For some reason, the Overlord in that moment had suddenly shifted course, the path no longer set. It had stopped its attack against the Alliance battleships, and was lunging toward another direction.

The Au-O’sanah was trying to compensate and chase, but Julian was left confused.

“Are you reading this?” he asked. “I don’t understand.”

The view screen was attempting to track, although the giant enemy vessel was still shrinking away.

Alysdeon said.

“Checking,” he replied. But he saw nothing in its immediate path. Only clear space.

That wasn’t all. The chatter was starting to come in, the sightings confirmed. The entire Endervar fleet was pulling back.

He could see it on the overarching scans — the mass contracting, and drifting away from the different armada groups. Mysteriously, the battlefield had turned cold, the enemy halting its advance. Hundreds of Endervar ships were circling back, and moving toward the inner system. For whatever reason, the enemy was ignoring the Au-O’sanah and the Alliance.

“This doesn’t make sense.”

“Not likely,” he said. “They have the advantage. Why pull back?”

Even the rest of the armada was startled. The fleet wondering whether or not to pursue. Shaking his head, Julian ordered the Au-O’sanah to decelerate and abort the intercept approach.

They had lost their chance, the Overlord retreating, and escorted by dozens of Endervar craft.

“Damn,” he said, knocking his knuckle against the ship’s railing. “Command. Do you know what the hell is happening?”

Alysdeon said, sending the images to the main view screen.

It was what the fleet teams had begun to notice: the enemy converging, and falling back toward Haven, his homeworld. While Julian expected to see more Endervar ships, he had not been prepared to witness this — the light rupturing forth from the planet.

Watching the glow stretch and arc, Julian stood aghast.

“It’s massive.”

The new contact had appeared just outside the orbit of Haven, and rose from the planet in a mist of curls. The force was monstrous, eclipsing almost everything else in view. Born from Endervar energy, it began to stutter in motion and vent a plume of charged particles. 

Julian could see the anomaly violently shake, like the cloud of matter was on the verge of erupting.

“Is this another Overlord?”

He heard it over the comm, the fleet admirals asking the same.

Checking the data, he examined the readings as best as he could. “Nothing,” he said, standing next to Alysdeon. “Just interference, and more Endervar signatures.”

He then heard the command network, the high alert sounding.

If it was another Overlord, then they stood no chance. “Goddamn,” Julian said, wondering what to do. He placed his hand against his head, furious.

At the cost of his own life, Julian had sought to destroy the Overlord. He knew he was asking for the impossible, and in return, he had been served with another disappointment.

Or at least, so he thought.

Watching the view screen, Julian saw the anomaly explode in size. Whatever it was, the object was clearly gathering in power, turning into an expansive nebula of matter. For a moment, their suspicions seemed all but confirmed, the energy swelling, and shimmering like a malevolent sun. 

<1,700 kilometers. It’s not stopping.>

But even as it continued grow, Julian began to see something else.

He walked closer to the view screen, the orange and yellow light beating upon him, and thought back.

“Wait,” he said.

Julian wasn’t sure at first, but the more he watched, the more he had to think that this was no foe.

“It came from Haven…” he whispered. “Could it be?”

Hearing his thoughts, Alysdeon pulled her eyes away from the sensor data, and looked at the bridge’s main view screen. The cloud began to move, although slowly at first; the mass of energy was still shaking, and waxing away from the planet.

Then it did the unexpected, and moved fast to attack, targeting the surrounding Endervar ships. Sending out the arms of energy, the cloud of matter began to unravel in a whip of fiery flares. One swipe alone seemed to knock back a group of vessels, the anomaly unleashing a wave of power that clapped across space.

It came again, another swipe consuming tens of different Endervar craft. Fleets of enemy ships were trying to approach, and encircle the disturbance. But still, the energy lashed out, almost wildly, the cloud twisting and turning in a whirlwind of movement. 

Julian then realized that he was right.

“Arendi,” he said. “It has to be her.”

He had no idea how, or what she was doing, only that it was working. In another shockwave, the arms of fire roared out, forcing the enemy to back away.

“Signaling command,” he said. “Do not retreat. I repeat do not retreat. It’s on our side.”

Julian didn’t expect the armada to understand. He just needed to provide whatever backup he could.

“All able ships, offensive formations.”

But as the armada prepared for the next assault, Julian heard the murmur in his mind. It was Alysdeon, her violet eyes dimming amidst the holographic scans nearby.

She waved her hand to Julian and pointed down to the data.

He saw the bleak look on her face, and then watched as the scans confirmed it. The enemy mothership was not retreating, as he once thought. But instead, it was on course toward Haven, intent on dealing with the new threat.

Tapping his implant, Julian then powered up the Au-O’sanah’s engines.

“Open all comm channels,” he said. “Try to message Arendi. We have to reach her if we can.”

He then went to plot the course, and sent the vessel back into overdrive. The Au-O’sanah could sense the urgency, and rumbled in a thunderous boom.

“Just hang on Arendi,” he whispered in worry. “We’re coming with everything we have.”

He recalled every strategy he could think of, and sent the requested formations to command.

It would not matter. As Julian would soon find out, this was no longer his battle to fight.