Remember the Starfighter (63 page)

She had sealed it, the gateway gone.

Rising from Haven’s surface, Arendi had taken the risk and pushed her systems to the volatile extreme. The result had turned her machine armor into a catalyst that was drawing in and controlling the chaotic energy surrounding her.

It was the only thing she could think of that might safely collapse the gateway: to siphon off the energy, and redirect it away from the planet. Arendi had pulled so much matter from the Endervar’s realm that the breach could no longer sustain itself.

So it disappeared, the last remnant of the enemy shield finally lifted.

She realized it was gamble. But Arendi trusted the plan, knowing that the armor she wore had been built for the task. Back on Earth, she had done so before, using the armor to pilot a prototype Endervar ship. To not only tap into the enemy’s power, but to control it, Arendi attempted it again. But this time on a scale beyond anything imagined.

Her own systems were struggling to measure the amount of energy, as it poured out from the planet like a fountain. And yet, the armor was keeping pace, the nano-machines moving beyond the design limits. Amplifying the capacity, Arendi continued to draw the energy from the gateway, until there was nothing more to pull. From there, she could have easily released the exotic matter into space, and away from the planet. Instead, she sought to do more.

It seemed only fitting. The very energy that had once powered the Endervar shield would be thrown back at the invaders, and turned into a weapon. Whether it would actually work was another question. She quickly found herself in the unknown, blind, her body submerged inside the energy.

In her view, was nothing but an almost blinding light, the super-heated gases forming an uneven sea of charged matter.  Arendi would have been immediately destroyed if not for barrier of empty space around her. It warded off the dangerous energies, and kept her safe. At least for now.

The armor was showing signs of failure. The nano-machines across her arms starting to rupture and peel off from the stress. Using the Endervar particles, she had propelled herself from Haven, to a distance of over 100,000 kilometers away, and climbing. And still, the particles, continued to pump energy into the armor, even as the containment had begun to buckle. 

She didn’t know how much time she had left. But Arendi wouldn’t stop.

Harnessing the enemy’s power had almost become habit to her, and so she placed herself in the heart of the Endervar matter, hoping to wield it. The armor pressed forth once more, catalyzing the mass of energy. It may have been a haphazard mess. The alien matter contracting back and forth, and still struggling to thrive. But to Arendi, this would be her vessel. A warship of her own design.

Trying to control it, she summoned a small part of the mass, and forced it to move. In response, the enormous sea of matter shook to the reaction. It created a wave, seismic in proportion, which rippled across the area.

The streams of gas continued to cascade, the layers receding, and obeying its new overlord. She sought to make it move. As fast as possible, without pulling it apart.

Incidentally, Arendi began to see an opening, and motioned to let the energy wrap around behind her. She switched through her visuals, and used her own scans; the interference was still there, but her sensors had detected something.

Through the fading screen of gas, Arendi saw them. The beacons in the night gathering together. She knew what they were. Her sights had magnified to confirm their structure and makeup.

Ostensibly, the enemy ships had arrived, surrounding her, and wondering what was in their midst. She counted hundreds of them, cautiously approaching closer, and not firing a single weapon.

Seeing this, Arendi realized that the enemy fleet was exposed. So she seized the moment, and struck back. Tightening her fist, she re-immersed herself inside her makeshift vessel, only to let it run wild.

Moving faster, Arendi and the sea of energy began to rebel, the charged particles jetting out into a broth of lethal matter. She imagined the destruction, and hoped it would do something to stop the Endervar fleet.  

But as Arendi attacked, she came to discover the real threat was out there. The enemy in all its might. Recalling the data, she accessed the last communication, and homed in on the coordinates. The distance was far. Perhaps too far.

In spite of her attempts to control it, the ship — and its entire cluttered mass — was barely holding together as the outer fringes continued to shed away. She would need weeks or longer to reach the destination. The space so vast that Arendi knew she could never make it.

Opening her hands, she looked down and saw the scales of metal shake, the nano-machines starting to melt. It began to burn, her clothes and skin underneath exposed to the vibrating heat.

She needed more time. Or something to bring her closer to the fray. As she floated in the pocket of empty space, Arendi knew she had little else to give. The warnings in her internal systems were going off, the damage starting to register across her body.

While the armor still held form, beneath it, her limbs were tarnishing — the heat nearly enough to melt synthetic alloy. She felt the pain shoot into her, and almost screamed, as her body continued to crumple under the stress.

If Arendi didn’t stop soon, then she would be no more. She looked at her fingers and the decaying armor. She was so tempted to pull it all way.

“No,” she mouthed in the vacuum. “Not yet.”

Clutching her chest in pain, Arendi raised her head, and tried to move past it. She was dying. But still, she wanted to fight. 

In the end, all Arendi had to do was simply wait.

The enemy was not satisfied to just stand by and watch. The mothership was coming. The so-called Overlord inbound, and eager to subdue this abomination. When the impact came, Arendi felt the entire area around her shake. Her scans had noticed it: the gravitational pull exponentially rising.

What control she had over the Endervar matter was disappearing, the unknown force reasserting its authority over the delinquent energy. She was losing it, the heated gases slipping away, and revealing another opening. 

On the other end was no longer empty space, but a pure and menacing light. It was then she saw it. The Endervar mothership was there, not only colliding with her vessel, but absorbing its very power.

She needed only a glance, and already Arendi could sense the enemy trying to leech away at her every effort.

Arendi would not let it.

Although this had never been her original plan, she thought that perhaps it was her one and only option. The gravity was pulling her in, making escape impossible. Feeling the downward spiral, she opened her hands one more time, and saw the dead nano-machines begin to drift.

The armor was failing; the Endervar particles at her wrist were degrading even more. She would not survive this. And yet, Arendi wasn’t afraid.

If she succeeded, then that was all that mattered. So Arendi smiled, the pocket of empty space around her about to collapse.

“I want this…” she said, imagining her own voice.

The heat was escalating, digging into her skin and into the structural bones. She could have cried out in pain, and almost did. But in looking at her hands, she found herself distracted.

From her fingers, the tiny pieces of metal sparkled past her, and became a gust of glitter. They hovered along, illuminating the path she sought to take. 

In that moment, she realized, deep down, she wanted to live. Perhaps more than ever.  After all this time, she wondered what might have been. Or what could be.

Even though her time was short, at least she had lived. If not for long. To move beyond Earth, and visit the stars. To not just be isolated, but to be among them. Among people. Among friends.

“Julian…”

The comm was still down, the interference stifling any hope of one last message. It wasn’t fair. But nothing ever was. She just wished she could see him. Speak with him. One last time.

What she would say, Arendi didn’t know. Maybe there was nothing that needed to be said. Just a simple look, or a touch would do.

She felt no more pain. Even as it was all about to end.

“Remember,” Arendi said. “Remember…”

She closed her eyes, and smiled, brushing back her locks of black hair, as her hands were startling to break apart. Harnessing the Endervar particles for the final time, she sent the order, the command akin to a self-destruct sequence.

Then she was gone. Arendi and the surrounding energy had moved away from Haven, but on toward the enemy, for one finishing blow.

The explosion came, sinking into the Overlord, and splintering the ship open.

Already unstable, the energized matter would not simply fade away and let reality or the enemy lay claim to it. So it retaliated, the fuel of the Endervar shield combusting into a nova.

From afar, the armada witnessed the destruction. The Overlord choking on the power it sought to ingest. The sight was jarring. The enemy mothership merging with the renegade energy, right as it was about to implode.

What was mountains of alien mass, began separating off into shards. The entire surface blistering away. It was whole, and then it was not, the invincible structure cracking apart. Diminishing into debris and then into dust, the mighty vessel could do nothing to withstand the attack. The geysers that poured forth, ripped away at the Overlord’s hide, and anything else in its path, as the surrounding Endervar ships began to flee.

The galaxy had never seen anything like it before. The sudden force enough to do the unthinkable. But as the rest of the armada stood in awe at the Overlord’s imminent demise, Julian looked on in complete despair.

He had not just seen the destruction of the enemy. It was the death of her.

As the Au-O’sanah accelerated toward Haven, he had tried to do everything to reach out. “Arendi. Talk to me,” he had said through the comm. “Can you read this? Come in!”

But even as he had failed to penetrate the interference, Julian had known what she was attempting to do. Watching the devastation envelop the Overlord, Julian turned his head away from the main view screen.

“No…”

He clawed his hand through his hair, and stared at the scans, finding only energized wreckage among the widening debris field. Through the comm, he heard the chatter. None of it from Arendi.

The armada had gone into action, the alerts coming in. The command network had confirmed the kill. The Endervars’ proxy was pronounced dead.

With that, the Alliance would resume its assault, targeting the remaining enemy ships, in a system-wide effort to obliterate every last vessel. The ensuing battle would go on for another hour. The armada seeking to weed out Endervar ships, no matter where they might fight.

Barrages would be exchanged. The Endervar ships clashing against plasma fire. The Alliance closing in, at every point. In time, the vacuum became filled with the dead. The corpses of so many fallen ships and drones, left to float in the frozen cold, or to crumble in the dissipating flames.

But even as the enemy sought to fight back, in the end, the Endervars had no choice but to concede. The mothership was gone. The spine of the enemy ripped from its body. Eventually, what remained of the enemy fleet would retreat, abandoning Haven, and any chance to retake the planet.

It was another startling sight. Something almost hard to believe. The enemy fleet defeated. The battle won.

Julian, however, remained on board the Au-O’sanah, desperate and abject. He went to the ear piece, and placed it in, wanting to ignore the rest of the chatter.

“Arendi. Come on. You have to be there.”

The scans still showed nothing alive. The entire blast area devoid of any activity, but evaporating ash. 

“Please… come on…”

He was pressing harder on the console buttons, his fingers jabbing down at the control board, to find a better signal.

“You survived other things before,” he said. “You have to be there.”

Still, there was nothing. The static and the vacuum the only thing left. Behind him, stood Alysdeon, who watched, and even felt his pain.

“I know, I know,” he said in a near stammer. “But… just let me try.”

It was for naught. The explosion had wiped out the Overlord and everything inside the blast radius.

This was not what he wanted. At least, not in this way.

It would not be long before Julian and the Au-O’sanah would rejoin the battle, and banish the enemy back into the darkness. But for now, in those few moments, Julian could only think back, and feel the regret.  He had lost people before. Too many people. So he didn’t want to lose another. Even as, he felt forced to let go.

“Arendi…” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to do that.”

But she did. And Julian knew it.

Five days later, and Julian found himself sitting on a wooden bench of all things; on this rare occasion, his feet were planted down on actual gravel.

He was in a park. One that sat on top of a hill. The area green, and the open air blowing across his face. As he spoke, rubbing his cleanly shaven cheeks, Julian noticed the overcast above. Zipping up his flight jacket, he stopped talking, and looked up at the sky, almost preparing for it.

“Don’t worry,” the woman said, waving her hand. 

She was sitting right next to him, hunched over, and listening to his every word. “It’ll just be a little rain,” she explained in a dulcet tone. “But probably tomorrow.”

The woman smiled, and insisted that he go on. So he did, crossing his legs, almost done. For who knows how long, he had been talking. Recounting the events, and everything that had happened.

Finishing, he vented a long sigh.

“I hope that all makes sense,” he said, rubbing his hands together, and feeling the mild chill. “It’s kind of complicated.”

Julian had never felt that he was much of a story teller. He was always unsure of what to omit, and if his point even came across.

This story, especially. He didn’t know how deep he should go. Or if she would even understand. But suffice it to say, Julian didn’t want to remain so distant or silent. He wanted to talk, and at least say what had always been on his mind.

“I guess I just wanted to apologize. I should have contacted you sooner. Much sooner.”

He turned to her, and looked back, in apology. Shrugging, the woman smiled, not wanting to be so serious. Julian didn’t have to say anything, but she was happy that he did. Placing her hands over his shoulder, she gave Julian a light hug.

“I missed you,” she replied. “We all did.”

He didn’t pretend to actually know her. The distance and the gaps were still there. But the woman next to him, was in fact, his sister. Angela Nverson. A truth he would never deny. Just sometimes forget.

It had been almost two years since Julian had last seen her. The circumstances much different from before. When Julian could barely stand the sight of this place. 

He felt none of that now. The embrace close and comforting.

“Haven,” Julian said. “I’m finally here.”

Although he still remembered little of his family, maybe it didn’t matter. As he let go, he saw her sister wipe a tear from her eye. Not in sadness, but in happiness and relief.

“Julian,” she said. “My little brother, out adventuring in the stars. Just like you always wanted to. I’m so proud.”

She fell back into the bench, thinking over everything he had just said. The war. The battles. And so many other things that went beyond what she knew. But before she could comment, Julian’s sister needed to get something straight. Pausing, she focused with her hazel eyes, and looked across the park. 

“Wait, wait,” she said, pointing to the figure. “So you’re telling me, that she’s the Sovereign?
The
Sovereign?”

Julian looked over, and saw the sight.

“Yeah,” he said in nod. “Hard to believe.”

Not far, at the center of the park, was Alysdeon, standing within the playground, above a pool of wooden mulch. She had come to rendezvous with Julian, but had found herself occupied with the unlikeliest of subjects within her midst.

Julian heard the excited plea. “Higher, higher!” the little girl shouted. He briefly watched, as his 4-year-old niece happily moved back and forth on the swing set. The hands of the Sovereign launching the girl into the air. 

“Me too!” his other niece asked, the older sibling jumping on the adjacent swing, and waiting for a push.

Julian scratched the back of his head, somewhat embarrassed. The two children were a handful, and brimming with energy, their tiny arms and legs always moving. Even so, it was clear that Alysdeon was happy to serve. Her face was radiating in a constant smile.

“The Sovereign,” his sister said, amazed. “She’s still so young...I feel like I’m under dressed.”

Angela wiped her face, and pressed down the sides of her hair, before straightening the rest of her plain utilitarian lab uniform.

“You should have told me sooner,” she complained, nudging him in the chest. 

Julian laughed.

“It’s okay. You look fine. Great even.”

She blushed. “Ah, always so nice. My brother the starfighter.”

Grinning, Angela looked on at her children, and felt happy watching them toss up with each swing. He glanced at her, and felt the same. She was a few years older than him, and different. A civilian, and confined more to the sciences. But also more extroverted, and outwardly kind.

She chuckled.

“This reminds me,” she said. “You know, you and I used to play here as kids. We would swing here too.”

He gazed out at the park, the premises relatively small. Aside from them, there was no one else nearby, not even a drone. Only street lights, and an old fountain dry of any water. 

“Really?” he asked, looking over his shoulder, but not remembering anything. Angela, nodded pointing to her children.

“You would always swing as high as you could, and then jump off at the right moment, to see how far you could land.”

He looked off to the swing set, clueless. To Julian, this was the first time he had ever set foot at the park, the entire area still a stranger to him.

“Jump off?”

“Yeah, you know. Jump out of the swing, in mid-air,” she said.

He had no idea what she was talking, but still he listened.

“I remember just watching, and expecting you to break a leg, or something,” she laughed. “You would always plummet forth, like an ancient cannonball. And then you would flash some dumb pose as you came off the ground.”

She put her arms at her waist akimbo, and puffed up her chest, mimicking what he had once done before: pretending to stand tall, and unaffected by his oafish tumble to the ground. Angela kept laughing, slapping her knee.

“I kept asking, why does he have to jump? Can’t he just swing like the rest of us?”

Julian laughed as well, although not to the same degree. He understood the sentiment, and so wanted to say something in response. Rubbing his chin, he could think of nothing. He merely envisioned himself as a small child. With his sister, innocently swinging back and forth, before jumping off and crashing into the wooden bark. It elicited a smile from his worn face. 

While Julian would never be able to recall the memory, he didn’t have to.

“But I suppose that’s what made you happy,” she added. “That’s all that matters.”

Angela placed her hands down on the bench, and looked up at the sky. The overcast was still there, but the yellow light from the sun was beginning to show, and pour through.

Julian placed his hand on top of hers.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thanks for always being there.”

She shook her head, too modest to accept.

“No,” she replied. “We should be thanking you. You saved us. You saved all of us.”

They would sit under the emerging the sun for a little longer, and talk more about the past, present, and what might come. It wouldn’t be easy for him to explain everything. The loss still on his mind. But ultimately, he enjoyed every moment, and was happy that he was here.

“Anyways,” Angela continued. “I’m just glad I could see you again. And so are the kids.”

She was excited, and ready to rejoin her two children on the playground.

“Maybe you can teach them how to jump,” she said, rising from the park bench.

Angela then grabbed his two hands, and eagerly pulled him up from his seat. 

“I guess I didn’t have to worry,” she added. “In the end, you didn’t forget about us, did you?”