Remember the Starfighter (60 page)

It was no doubt an alarming sight. Enough to make one think twice.

Even before Julian’s attack, the Endervars had completely surrounded the Haven system, choking the space with legion after legion of ships. Vessels, over a mile in size, patrolled on by. Their weapons cold, but the ships ever watchful and scanning for any sign of aberration. They glacially stirred across the area — from the outermost planet to the central star — and moved in scattered throngs of shimmering light.

The result was an area subsumed in their influence; the Endervars had scrambled to find the source of their invulnerable shield’s demise. Enemy force fields had been extended across Haven, disrupting any communication with the naked planet. And even now, more ships were entering the vicinity, the stragglers assuming position and joining their kin in one ominous wave after another.

5,000 enemy ships. All together, and now provoked into action. The change was stark. The vessels stopping in mid-flight, and then shifting in alignment, to coalesce. An aberration had been detected. The sudden disappearance of 46 ships putting the fleet on alert.

Preparations had begun. The Endervar vessels acting like automatons, and carrying out the formations set forth by their creators in a near unified march. Haven would be encircled and protected. But as for the rest, they would move to act.

How many worlds had these ships already conquered? One could only guess. But regardless, they were ready to attack. The Endervar fleet had assembled into a giant mass of warmongering ships. 

The Ouryan saw all this and could only laugh.

Finally
, it thought.
My turn.

This was the moment. So it would not hold back. Summoning the resources to its will, the agent unleashed what would be the first wave against its sworn enemy. Dropping out from hyperspace, the vessels poured on to the battlefield, and moved to make the ambush.

Conventional tactics be damned. The Ouryan sought to engage in close-range combat. Over 30,000 ships under the agent’s command would do so. Stabbing at the enemy head-on.

The collisions were immediate. The Ouryan’s drone fighters slamming into the oncoming Endervar fleet. The agent was there, in glee. Ships exploded on impact. Others careened off course, only to crash into more ships. Destruction and more destruction. The bursts of phase canons, particle beams, and the sizzle of fusion bombs adding to the chaos.

2,000 drone fighters had fallen. Then 6,000.

Just as the simulations had predicted. But this wasn’t simply an attempt at waging war.

This was a dance.

The Ouryan would not let the Endervars scatter and engage in any cumbersome long-range combat. It would goad them even more, the drone fighters withstanding the damage, before lurching back for another run.

Come to me
, the Ouryan beseeched.
This is what you want, is it not?

11,000 drones had already fallen in the first minutes, the enemy still strong and ready to dance again. But the Ouryan had no need to worry. Reinforcements had just arrived. It was a large force, of almost equal size. The machine fleet and the surge of ships bolting from outside the system to join the Ouryan in battle.

Sentinel Mega would embark on the same strategy, in an effort to keep the Endervars on the defensive and contained. The concentrated weapons fire was blinding. The ships smashing against the Endervar lines, as one side tried to overtake the other. Mangled parts and the fog of dead vessels began to fill the battlefield; the drones still fell by the thousands, but clawed at the giant enemy disks in their midst.  

The Endervars had the advantage, and fought back with brute force. They dug in, slowing their speeds, but strengthening their force fields, and amplifying their attack beams, to take down the waves of fast-moving ships.

The dance was quickening — the enemy seeking to do away with this nuisance and banish any pretense that this battle could be won. The Ouryan could see it: the opponent still blind to their plan.

Excellent
, the Ouryan thought.
Now for your end.

The battle was unfolding right before the agent’s eyes. The Ouryan then tapped into the thousands of different drones that had been deployed. Using their sensors, the agent had calculated the projected paths, before uploading the data to the central command network.

The enemy’s comm interference would pose a challenge. But even if the coordinates failed to transmit, the captain would know what to do.

This would be a piercing maneuver. Right into the heart of the Endervar fleet.

“Godspeed captain”, the Ouryan said. “Give them hell.”

Julian could feel it start to come. The light sting in his sinus, followed by the trickle.

He was bleeding. The drops of scarlet falling to the bridge of his lip. He was not put off at all. Only slightly inconvenienced. Taking the back of his hand, Julian wiped his mouth, accidentally smearing the nosebleed across his cheek. He could smell the iron, and feel the cold touch of it. The blood wet, but drying over his skin.

He didn’t care.

Gritting his teeth, Julian opened his mind. Everything was in place; the attack patterns were set and ready to adapt. Blasting the engines, the Au-O’sanah was on course, and raising its speed to the next threshold. In another minute, they would be there, and in thick of it.

Julian could hear the broken bits of chatter over the comm, as the holograms beamed into his eyes. Navigation status, enemy movements, and a virtual map of the battlefield all fluttering through his vision. The list of data was cycling; the messages were trying to penetrate the interference, and update the suggested path.

“Szzkrr…danger at…” the command networks hounded. “Srraassss… approach at risk.”

But in that brief moment, despite everything going on, he could only hear one voice. It was the Au-O’sanah. The ship in his mind and speaking to him. Maybe for the last time.

--Guide me. Be me. I’m with you.

The words were soft. Encouraging him. Fueling him.
He felt the warmth over his body; the ship was at his side, and around him. The blood continued to drip. But now, it was all but forgotten.

--Just believe.

And with that, Julian entered the fray.

The Au-O’sanah was but one ship, escorted by an array of unmanned drones at its fore. But even so, the vessel was easy to overlook, what with the thousands of other vessels attacking the bulk of the enemy fleet.

To the Endervars, the Au-O’sanah might have seemed harmless, or even a quirk. It arrived, not firing a single shot. But unbeknownst to the alien invaders, the ship was the real threat.

Flanking the Endervar force from the other end, Julian hoped to fly through the horde of ships, and rip the fleet apart from the inside. It was what he had proposed to the Ouryan over a day ago. The captured Endervar particles would be the weapon that could turn the tactic into reality.

The plan was bold, but not without its catch. The Au-O’sanah would have to pass through the Endervar fleet without being gunned down, or destroyed in a collision.

The latter was more likely, the enemy ships moving so fast and in close proximity, they might run through the Au-O’sanah. Although the risks were obvious, Julian still believed it could work. He needed to only execute, and fly like he had never done before.

“Do it!” he said, nearly shouting the order.

As the Au-O’sanah was about to enter the Endervar fleet, behind the ship, the pocket of warped space had begun to form. Then it expanded, multiplying in size. Fifty fold. A hundred. More and more. Alysdeon sending all the spare energy into the Endervar particles. It had become a giant barrier of nothingness, the Au-O’sanah in front and leading the void into battle.

Instantly, the Endervar vessels began to die.

He could hear Alysdeon announcing the kill count; the enemy targets were hitting the region of collapsed space. But Julian was too distracted to hear the numbers. All he could see was the danger, the Endervar ships appearing as a barrage that wouldn’t stop.

Protecting the Au-O’sanah was the ship’s shields, in addition to the bevy of unmanned drones flying in front. Over 400 had joined the Au-O’sanah, to shelter the vessel from attack.

He hoped they would last, and keep his vessel safe.  But he could only watch, and move out of their way, as the drones fell by the hundreds. Whether deliberate or not, the Endervars were smashing into the defending ships, and turning them into debris.

With each impact, Julian wanted to wince. They were so close to sharing the same fate. He needed to move faster. Keep the enemy away.

“Secondary,” he said, accessing the backup attack pattern.

He was moving the Au-O’sanah in and out of the field of ships. Accelerating and then jerking the craft into another direction. It was his hope to stay alive, but hit as many targets whenever possible. The scans were providing updated positions of the Endervar fleet; the ships were now incoming from the portside, and the holograms in his eyes were predicting the enemy flight paths.

To Julian, it was like threading a needle through cloth. Only that the fabric was moving at an alarming rate, and deadly to touch. The city-sized vessels were maneuvering through as streaks of light. But it was no longer a steady stream of obstacles. The Au-O’sanah had ended that, and sent the neighboring vessels into disarray.

Particle beam fire. The signature weapon of the enemy. It came from almost every direction. The shocks of energy trying to lock on to the bio-ship, and put a stop to the anarchy.

It was something the scans could do less to predict. The weapons fire was starting to hit the shields of the Au-O’sanah.

91 percent. 76 percent. 65 percent. Defending drones down to a few dozen.

Just like that, and the Au-O’sanah’s protective fields were draining — the weapons hitting the vessel at the bow.

“Fuck,” he said.

The burgeoning field of warped space kept Julian and the ship largely protected from the rear. But it was the front of the vessel that left it exposed, and vulnerable to attack. Unless Julian could dodge the enemy’s arsenal, the Au-O’sanah wouldn’t last long.

Reluctantly, he shifted course, and sent it out of the Endervar horde. How many targets they had already taken down, he couldn’t say. But Julian had the feeling it was far from ideal.

The Endervars ships were still everywhere, and so was their particle beam fire. He needed to make another run into enemy fleet, and survive. Or at least long enough to do more damage.

There was no time to think. Only those precious seconds to act. He was trying to compensate. Piloting the Au-O’sanah with his thoughts, and desperate to keep the enemy out of reach.

55 percent. 41 percent. Shields still degrading. Defending drones gone.

His mind was moving fast, and then faster. The blood still dripping down his face and onto his chin. It didn’t matter. Julian simply wanted to call upon them. His training. His instincts. His will. All of it, so he could find a way to fight back.

His experience was there, as it always had been. But so was his aid.

The message was in his sight. “Captain,” it said. “Follow this.”

It was a path. A defined course back into the Endervar fleet, the approach deep, but viable.  Julian followed, the Au-O’sanah pushing the engines to the near limit. It dove back into the enemy fire, dragging the void with it. The course was like following a maze. The turns at times sharp, and the maneuvers forcing the ship to spiral and loop past masses of Endervar ships.

Shields continued to fall. Down to 25 percent. And then 12. Suddenly, however, the particle beam fire began to abate. Not only was his plan working, but Julian’s support was trying to pave the way.

The drones of the Ouryan and the sentinel commander had plunged themselves deeper into the enemy force, and past the front lines. They swarmed ahead, sacrificing themselves to attack enemy targets that might pose a threat. But along with them, came the Alliance’s own arsenal of firepower.

The armada had arrived, separating itself into four divisions to rain death upon the enemy. They encircled their foe from a far-off distance, and began pummeling the cornered target. N-canons. Quantum torpedoes. And every form of long-range weaponry fired down on the Endervar fleet.

It was a salvo of power that nearly shattered the battlefield. The explosions and tightened beams toppling the enemy behemoths, and leaving them to burn. Guiding the bombardment was the Ouryan, the strikes massive in scale, but controlled and precise. Julian could see it through the visuals: the Endervar ships caught off guard and falling.

The area was opening. The approach still dangerous, but ripe for the taking. He wiped the remaining blood from his face on to the back of his arm. Then he charged.

The Au-O’sanah lunged through the trench, as the Endervars lines had all but collapsed. The explosions outside the ship crackled, the weapons fire booming across space. The enemy fleet was in chaos, trying to retreat from the area and regroup at another.

Julian, however, wouldn’t let them. He sought to let the void consume. All around the Au-O’sanah was devastation, the trail of desiccated enemy ships becoming endless. He was no longer running. This was an all-out assault.

The Au-O’sanah was dauntless in its attack, destroying the enemy in a mammoth swipe. And with every maneuver, Julian felt like he was fighting. Striking out at the enemy, and making them pay.

In that moment, he could remember why he was here. It came as a glimpse into his past. The memories real, the faces vivid. Time seemed to stop. The moments, not marked by pain or regret, but out of nostalgia and tenderness.

Maybe he was about to die. His life flashing before him. The blood still coming.

But at least he could see them again. Gray Squadron. Drayden. Nalia. And so many others.

He was on his path now. Although the Endervars wanted to flee and disperse, Julian wouldn’t let them.

He gave chase, hungry to crush them.

Spotting the crowd of enemy ships, Julian targeted them, and flew the Au-O’sanah pass by. There were 20 or 30 of them. Each ship a colossus in the night, and devoted to bringing the galaxy to its knees.

Julian ended that, the void swallowing the targets whole. He wanted to fight on, his mind thirsting for more. But the battle had taken its toll. 

Almost about to stumble, he steadied himself, placing his hand down on the nearby railing. The drops of blood hit the floor, his flight jacket stained in red.

Let it bleed
, he thought.
I won’t stop.
  

He would finish this. Even with the shields gone. He would fight. All the way to the bitter end. He was about to find his next target, when he felt the touch at his side. The hand wrapped around his arm, and helped pull Julian to his feet.

It was Alysdeon, wiping his face with her other hand.

She pulled the implant from his temple, and took control of the ship. Shaking his head, Julian was about to protest.

she said.

He was exhausted, and light-headed, his adrenaline running high. Julian had been so locked into the battle, he had forgotten that Alysdeon was even there. Clearing his eyes, he looked at the main view screen, and found the space ahead clear of enemy ships.

Behind him, the Endervar particles had curdled back into dormancy, the Au-O’sanah slowing to a near halt.

she asked, examining his face.

He gathered himself, and wet his lips. “The enemy…how did we do?” he said, almost gasping for air.

Even she wasn’t sure. She had lost count, and so had the ship’s computer.

Julian slowly walked over to a seat, and sat down. Meanwhile, Alysdeon began reconfiguring the scans, as she spoke with the other Alliance commanders over the comm. The channels were clearer now, the command network flooded with the different reports.

“Targets neutralized,” it said. “Cease fire.”

The holograms were still floating in his vision, but he looked past them, and found himself fixated on the bridge’s main view screen. The virtual map confirmed it: the Endervars had been forced to pull back. They now moved to regroup with their remaining kin at Haven, as the Alliance continued to follow.

But that wasn’t all. Alysdeon showed it to him, sending the data to the view screen.

It was the kill count, the number staggering.

“Is this right?” he asked, in disbelief.

Julian rose from his seat, and looked back at the data.

“Over 2,000 ships destroyed…”

Julian glanced at his arm and hand, and saw all the dry blood.

He didn’t care. Julian may have been battered, but the nosebleed had finally stopped. Blowing out the air from his lungs, he patted his jacket, ready to make the next run.

“Signal the fleet,” he said. “Tell them we’re just getting started.”