Remember the Starfighter

by Michael Kan

  TECHNOLOGY: Endervar ships are built from an exotic form of matter, which has been observed to operate under different physical laws. The matter has been shown capable of warping space for sub-light propulsion and extended periods of faster-than-light travel. The matter can also accelerate particles to create defensive fields, and emit extremely powerful beam blasts as a form of weaponry. All attempts for closer study, however, have failed; the Endervar ships will instantly disintegrate upon critical damage or destruction. (SEE: DETAILED MATTER ANALYSIS)

  METHOD OF OPERATION: Lone Endervar ships have been observed scouting systems for intelligent life, only to summon companion ships to begin a full-scale invasion. Group attacks typically number between 100 and 700 ships, depending on the scale of activity within the system. Endervar vessels will only engage in hostile attack if a threat is perceived, or their approach is impeded.

  SUBJUGATION: Upon securing the targeted world, Endervar ships will generally orbit and emit disruptive force fields above the atmosphere, blocking any attempts to communicate or travel to the planet. The ships will then begin cannibalizing themselves, forming a physical barrier around the planet, enshrouding the world in exotic matter. Once completed, the barrier is impenetrable and immune to all forms of attack, including anti-matter and transphasic weaponry. Conversely, no one has been known to ever escape the barrier. (SEE: ENDERVAR SHIELD)

  EXPANSION: Subjugated worlds have been shown to indefinitely spawn new Endervar ships from the shell of the created barrier. Total Endervar ship numbers are impossible to calculate, but their presence has been found to extend to less than half of the galaxy, primarily in the Sagittarius and Perseus Arms.

  WEAKNESSES: Although subjugated worlds remain impervious to attack, Endervar ships are still susceptible to most forms of energy-based weaponry. The latest class of N-beams have been shown to be particularly effective. In addition, no Endervar ships have ever been observed traveling within hyperspace, a disadvantage that has limited their movement to warping through normal space at FTL-speeds.

  STRATEGY: Militaries from various galactic governments have tried to contain the Endervar threat by intercepting the ships before they can assemble and invade. The most successful attempt was a strategy by the Alliance in 8892 A.F., which deployed what was then the largest machine fleets to patrol around so-called “containment zones.” But subsequent attempts to control the Endervars have failed, due to their rising numbers, and the emergence of the new enemy Overlord ship. (SEE: ERADICTION INTIATIVES, BATTLE OF ZORA)

  CONCLUSIONS: Despite ongoing efforts, much about the Endervars continues to remain a mystery. The Alliance’s containment strategy is also no longer effective, and has essentially failed. Total galactic subjugation by the Endervars is inevitable under current conditions.

  RECOMMENDATIONS: (SEE EXPERIMENTAL WEAPONRY. ULTRA-CLASSIFIED).

  ***

 

  Julian pressed his fingers under his nostrils, and began rubbing the scarlet away. The specialist handed him a cloth from the table.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, dabbing at his face with the napkin. “It’s just from an old injury.”

  As the nosebleed passed, Julian sat there awkwardly. The New Terran commander had invited him to dinner, insisting they get to know each other better.

 

  Julian reached for the glass of water, which he drank from to wash down his food, a meal made out of actual meat. Engineered chicken if he wasn’t mistaken, sautéed in a pink sauce. The specialist sat across from him at the mess hall’s table, presumably enjoying the dinner before them.

 

  “Yes, discharged a few years back with SpaceCore.”

  He paused on the details, the traces of blood still on his nostrils.

  “I was injured,” he said. “Then underwent a rejuvenation, before returning to civilian life.”

 

  Survived, he thought. “I guess,” he added. “Thanks to medical science.”

 

  It was a simple remark, meant to be polite, even optimistic. But Julian wasn’t so sure.

  “I don’t know. Things didn’t end well last time.”

  Julian said it like a self-deprecating joke, as he thought back further to the past. “I was trained, starting since the age of 12 or 13. For a time, it was my life.”

 

  “No, I was just one among the many. Drafted to serve.”

  Julian let out a long gasp, his mind trying to comb through the tattered memories, when he felt his heart jump.

  “What I saw just days prior. Trying to escape the Endervars... It happened so fast, just like before. The combat and the losses. Enemy ships. Particle beam fire. We were there, fighting. And then... ”

  Julian no longer wished to say anymore, feeling the memories curdle. Nor did he have to, the commander reaching across the table to touch his hand.

 

  She let go and brandished a wide smile on her seemingly innocent face.

 

  Julian looked at her, skeptical. To him, he was staring at a young woman just entering the adulthood of her life. But in his mind, he sensed the sophistication.

 

  “I have to ask, how old are you really?” he said.

  She was not at all surprised by the question.

 

  ***

  Julian had known other New Terrans before. They were humans like him. Only different. Very different.

  Haven was not the only colony mankind had settled following the fall of Old Earth. Historical records claim there were six seed ships that had escaped. Each one traveled in different directions to ensure humanity’s survival.

  One of those seed ships had founded the colony that would be known as New Terra. Unlike Haven, its history would follow a different path. The New Terrans would be the first to initiate contact with the powerful Ula race, and then with the Alliance itself. Early on, the New Terrans would involve themselves with the Endervar wars years before the people of Haven had even found their new home.

  That involvement had led to many technological breakthroughs for the New Terrans, some of it to extremes the people of Haven had only dabbled in. Not only could they build living bio-ships, but they had even genetically altered themselves to include alien DNA along with their techno-organic implants. People like the specialist Alysdeon were practically immortal and could speak to anyone solely using their mind. They used those abilities to communicate with alien races, as well as their own starships.

  Julian toured the commander’s vessel, expecting to find other crew members. But he saw none, the grand hallways all eerily vacant.

  The commander explained that there was really no need for any personnel to operate the ship. Like any organism, the vessel could sustain itself. Specialist Alysdeon, however, was constantly linked to the ship’s so-called consciousness. This allowed her to “guide” the vessel with her every thought.

 

  She had taken Julian to the ship’s central core, and half-expected to find a standard energy reactor, built from machinery and quantum particles. But instead, he confronted what was a living organ, contained within a vat of liquid.

  He peered at it through a crystalline wall, the so-called brain housed inside the large tank. Julian could hear the organ rumble, and noted the thick veins and tentacles across i
ts shimmering white shell.

 

  The commander fondly touched the crystalline wall. Julian initially thought nothing of it, only to see that her hand had begun to fall into the wall. Eventually, her whole arm sank through. In another step, she was on the other side, immersed in the chamber of alien fluid.

 

  The commander swam through the liquid, and waved back at Julian. Not once did she gasp for air.

  Julian was about to place his own hand on the crystalline wall, before he pulled back, afraid of what might happen.

  “I envy you,” he said, unsure if she could hear him. “I always wished I had my own ship, to travel the stars.”

  The commander nodded, her hair lifted in the lagoon-like water.

 

  She placed her hand on the vital core, and caressed it. The vessel responded, the echo of an alien child cooing throughout the ship.

  ***

  Waking up in his quarters, Julian saw blackness outside the window — the ship had returned to normal space.

  Orbiting nearby trolled a gas giant, streams of cumulous white streaking across its vapor shell. The vessel’s destination was the fourth moon, a globular crumb of rock in the face of its mammoth companion.

  A fleet had stationed themselves around it, forming a churning moving mass of ships. As they flew closer, Julian could see vessels of all kinds, dotting the space in different shapes and colors. Military cruisers lurked in the cold open as giant shadows standing watch. Floating about were the dozens of cargo craft and transport ships, blazing in the night with a rainbow of electronic lights. The outpost itself was entrenched on an airless low gravity planetoid, pocketed by meteors and sheets of ice that looked like lesions. The vessel carrying Julian gradually ascended down, flying toward the camouflaged base, its color granite like the moon itself. Bydandia military base is what it had been called. The structure was divided among five different wings, with a central spherical core. Like a mechanical spider clamped to the ground, the base opened a hanger bay door at its abdomen, with the bio-ship swooping in and then landing.

  He stepped off the landing bridge protruding out from the underbelly of the vessel. While the walkway itself was a mechanical construction, built out of metal, Julian could look and see the outer hull of the ship was not. It was entirely black, and seemed to be made out of space itself, the surface like a liquid ooze filled with the glitter of stars. He marveled at it, and thought for a moment that he saw a towering dragon. The head of the vessel was shaped like a pointed beast, with a long neck connecting to the rest of its body. Two wings drooped from the side, the craft both fierce and imposing as it perched above Julian.

  The hanger bay he now found himself in was a vast dome, the sounds of machinery echoing within the airy structure. Smaller and tightly-built cargo vessels surrounded him, each one unloaded by human dock workers.

  The New Terran commander walked down, still behind him.

 

  Placing his two feet on the outpost base, Julian turned around and stared at the specialist, her unnaturally young face smiling once again.

 

  “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks again for saving us.”

 

  He could see the sincerity in her face. Strange, he thought, to be looking at someone who was more than three centuries older than him, yet had not aged in skin and body. There were others like her, those who had lived one lifetime after another, even among his own people. But she had never technically ever said a word to him. The New Terrans had always been so different. He saw her gaze, in awe at how supremely calm she was.

  “Will I see you again?” he asked.

  The commander paused.

 

  War. No one could escape it. And for all he knew, this might be last time Julian would see this woman.

  “Hopefully our luck doesn’t run out. So far, you and me both have been hard to kill,” he said.

 

  Her right hand then rose.

 

  They shook, a firm grip from both their hands.

  As the commander left to return to her vessel, Julian walked onward. Nearby in the hanger, he saw a man not much older than him, dressed in a brown military uniform.

  “Hey,” Julian said to the officer, carrying nothing but the clothes he wore. “I guess I’m a refugee.”

  Chapter 7

  Julian sat on the ground, huddled against a wall. He had just woken up, another blood-stained nightmare, another piece of his broken past, disturbing his sleep. He felt the side of his head, only to relinquish his hold, and notice the bleeding was gone.

  Just the same memory, he thought. Pulling the blanket away, he looked around and found that nothing had changed. He was still here, inside this cold and dim storage space — his new, albeit temporary home.

  The auditorium-like room had been taken over two days ago, the smell of metal freight lingering in the air. Now, more than a hundred refugees laid across it, stripped of all the daily comforts they once had and instead given a hard floor to sleep on. He felt alone in that first week on the base, just another vague figure in a mass of lost people.

  The authorities in the form of flustered officers had simply directed him to where the civilian populace of Haven had been told to stay. Display screens across the base broadcasted a repeating list of where to go for certain services, such as for food or clothing. But most of the facility was still off-limits, including the medical wings, where Nalia was likely to be. He had heard nothing about what happened to her, and could only assume that she was being cared for.

  Official information had been made short and concise: Haven had been invaded, but contingency plans were in place. What that entailed was left up to speculation. For now, all Haven citizens across the sector had been ordered to retreat to Bydandia, a star system the government had colonized decades ago.

  Julian had found himself in a military facility located on this little moon. He did not know how many, but he saw hundreds maybe thousands of civilians crowded throughout the base’s confines. Many of the refugees had come from other star systems that had neighbored Haven and had been forced to evacuate. Now each day, more refugees came pouring in, taking up every available space the authorities could find for them.

  Julian looked through the crowds and checked the public databases to see if anyone he had known from Haven had made it out alive. So far, however, there was no one. He sat in the storage room, feeling the gloom in the air.

  Across from him was a large window, the sunset of the star bleeding through. The crimson sun fell back behind the rising gas giant, the white fog of its surface tinted red as the glare declined into total darkness. He sat there staring, wondering where he was going.

  Next to him, empty expressions weighed on people’s faces. Parents held their children, hugging them in their arms. Then came the murmurs of doom.

  Julian could hear the sudden shuffling of footsteps. Rows of people were moving toward a pair of large display screens installed across a wall in the room. He could see and listen to them whisper; some were voicing disbelief, others venting curses. Julian moved in behind them to watch what was happening.

  The display screen showed footage of Haven, taken from probes left in the system. He expected to see
the same view he had days ago, one of a blue world spiraling in the darkness.

  It was not there. In its place was the remnants of a habitable planet, but this time surrounded by a structure stretching across its periphery. To Julian, it was like an alien skin had grown over the blue skies of Haven. Eventually, the shell would cover the entire planet as it had so many others.

  “The Endervar shield,” Julian said to himself. “They’ve started building it.”

  The shield: it was the greatest technology the enemy possessed, and the core reason the threat could never be vanquished. No one understood what it was made of, or how such a thing could be constructed so quickly. But once completed, the barrier was invincible, immune to even the most powerful weapons ever devised. An entire world would be lost, the fate of its inhabitants a mystery. Soon Haven and whatever people that remained on it would be barred from salvation. The enemy would claim them for all eternity.

  ***

  The holographic screens splayed across the steel table at the center of the room, cluttering its surface in layers of light. Sitting behind them was a man who had resorted to taking stimulant packs in the last week to stay awake. He looked at Julian with blood-shot eyes.

  “You’re the best thing to come to me this whole damn week,” he said, in a low grumble.

  His name was Balans Righton, a SpaceCore colonel, who had been charged with managing fleet staff. He had taken off the white uniform and sat behind his desk with the sleeves of his gray undershirt pulled back at the elbow. A stubble of silver and black flecks grew in patches along his cheeks and chin, adding extra age on to his 58 years. He seemed grim, except for the smile now hanging on his dry lips. Julian sat across from him, wanting to explain his case.