by Michael Kan
“Goddamit,” Drayden said, as he stood in the center of the battle room. Holographic maps and sensor readings surrounded him, as nearby officers manned the different stations. “The Defiance is reporting heavy damage,” a commander behind him shouted. Drayden could only look away in anger, fuming at the lives being lost.
For weeks, they had prepared for the possibility of attack, laying an intricate network of weapon batteries and space mines across the system. But in just minutes, the Endervars had laid waste to the majority of their defenses, the enemy sacrificing their own ships to break through.
“There’s too many of them. And more keep coming admiral.”
He saw the scans. Like a noose, the Endervar ships were circling the inner system, and closing in on their base’s position at the moon. Enemy bombardment continued to escalate, civilian ships even coming under attack.
“Tell alpha and beta fleet to regroup at coordinates one-point-two eight!” Drayden ordered. “Hold this position as long as we can.”
He then motioned his staff to prepare Bydandia’s next defensive plan. Already, satellites around the moon were moving into position. Once fully activated, they’d emit an orbital shield, protecting the base from weapons fire.
“How much longer before we get that salvaged Endervar ship out of here?” he asked.
“Five, maybe ten minutes. We’re still trying to prep it for launch,” an officer said.
“Get that ship off the base now. And make sure all non-essential personnel get to their shuttles.”
There was little time left, as more enemy ships appeared on the scans. Somehow he would have to stop them with what few resources he had. To at least stave off their advance, and buy time. Drayden fully knew what was at stake. But as he groped for a new strategy, he came to discover that this was no random enemy raid.
“Beta group is under heavy attack. The Liberty is going down!”
Every defense was falling, and Drayden could feel it. Looking off at his crew, he wondered if this would be their last stand.
“Admiral,” said an officer. “We have incoming signals.”
Drayden went to look at the readings, checking them twice to see if it was true. He then realized he no longer needed to wonder.
“Cancel the previous orders to the fleet,” he commanded. “Tell all ships to evacuate the system immediately.”
Chapter 17
“Lightning,” the comm-link said. “Do you read me?”
Static crackled through Julian’s ears, command’s voice nearly lost to the piercing interference. The enemy bombardment had strangled the communication feeds, weapons fire slashing through space and diffusing on the ship scans.
He charged the Lightning’s defensive systems, his ship gathering speed out past the base’s orbit and into the oncoming war zone. Virtual targeting cross hairs filled the displays shown within his helmet, the tactical computer preparing to engage in evasive maneuver patterns.
Reach the jump point — that was the order. To escape with the Endervar specimen unharmed. The objective appeared on the scans, the ship’s computer leading the way.
“Lightning,” command voiced again. “Hyperspace vector…at zero point 12…”
It was opening, the cosmic gateway growing out of space and time. Acknowledging the order, Julian then sent the Lightning into full-drive. The pulsating weapons fire, the encroaching destruction, none of it mattered now. Emerging was the hyperspace point, its fringes swelling blue and black against the darkness.
“Lightning…vector stable,” command said. “Approach clear.”
He confirmed the order, the vicinity free of enemy activity. But Julian was not alone. Transports, freighters and even military cruisers were all heading to the stable jump point. He counted over fourteen short-range ships, most carrying civilians. At the rear was the heavy battleship, the S.C. Atlas, shields powered and engine speed accelerating.
Make the jump. That was the imperative. In another minute, the convoy would cross on over and into hyperspace. Julian could almost feel the safety at his fingertips, the swirling energies of the gateway in his sights.
“Lightning…azzzrrrrr…kkkkkkrrrrr”
The feed was gargled, scans themselves becoming scrambled.
“Ligtning…aazzddurrrr….ssssskk”
Command continued to fade in and out, the voice barely audible.
“Lightning…Lightning….”
Hearing the urgency in the words, Julian answered back.
“Command,” he said. “Reading you. Respond.”
“Lightning…” the voice warned. “INCOMING!”
The convoy exploded, the darkness bursting into a blistering light. Julian’s ship was knocked off course, the impact sending the vessel into a near tailspin. He felt the force shake and wrench the ship, emergency alarms shrieking inside his helmet. Shields were down at 12 percent, both life support and sensors offline.
Like a scrap of metal, the Lightning flung aimlessly in space, its body spiraling out of control. “Zeta 2, Zeta 3!” he shouted.
Responding to his call, the ship fired off its maneuvering thrusters, the anti-gravity emitter ramping up to full power. Blazing an engine trail, the Lightning slowed its trajectory and corrected course.
“Command, are you there?” he said, sweat dripping down his cheeks. “Took damage. But I’m still here.”
He re-calibrated the sensor array, as static continued to wax and wane over the different bands.
“Command, do you read? I’m blind out here. My sensors are shot.”
“kkrrr….szzzhhh”
“Command, I’m here. Give me eyes. I’ll do my best to calculate.”
With sensors down, he ordered the ship to go into a manual mode. His flight suit reacted, the network of control nodes within the fibers clasping to his arms and hands. The Lightning’s real-time visuals then went online, a 360-degree exterior view enveloping the insides of his helmet.
Using the ship’s cameras, he zoomed in on the location of hyperspace jump point, expecting to see the stirring gateway intact. But to his shock, it was no longer there, the cosmic energies disappearing into stolid space.
“Its…..gone,” command whispered over the feed.
“What? Please repeat.”
“Lightning… it’s gone.
“I know, I’m not seeing it anymore—”
“No, no. The convoy,” command said. “It’s been totally destroyed.”
***
It was a collision, he had been told, the impact wiping out the escaping fleet. Three Endervar ships, moving at high speed, had crashed into the convoy just moments before entering the hyperspace portal. The resulting explosion had killed hundreds, and destabilized the fabric of space time itself. The S.C. Atlas, once a stronghold of safety, had been utterly vaporized.
“Lightning, come in. This is Drayden.”
“Admiral,” Julian said as he monitored the ship’s automatic repairs. “What’s your status?”
“Not good. Enemy ships are breaking through defensive lines. Interference everywhere. We can barely read you… Status?”
“Life support damaged, but sensors are coming back online. I’m on course away from Bydandia.”
“Good. Head to coordinates three point five-six. It’s a distance, but you’ve got to get past the enemy fleet. Those gravimetric fields are dampening all hyperspace portals.”
“I can do it. But what about you? Get you and your personnel to your shuttles already. I’m starting to read more Endervar ships.”
“Skkrrr…Too late,” the admiral said. “You gotta get out of here Julian.”
As Drayden finished his words, a priority one message was sent out to the fleet.
All ships, including military vessels, had been ordered to evacuate the system. Defensive formations had been fully dissolved.
“What the hell are you doing Drayden?” he asked. “What about the defense?”
“Julian, we’re reading new warp signatures inbound right at Bydand
ia’s doorstep. Too many to count. Those ships will arrive at any moment.”
“That can’t be. There has to be something wrong with your scans.”
“This battle is lost Julian,” the admiral said. “Listen to me, you have to run. The Endervars have their whole damn fleet invading.”
“Drayden, get to your ships!”
“Don’t worry about us, Julian. Get that cargo to the Alliance. It could change this war.”
“Forget the cargo. You need to evacuate now.”
“You did your best Julian. You always have. We’re going to make sure you get out of here.”
Julian spoke back, pleading with Drayden to stop. But static began to disrupt his message.
“Sorry it had to end like this,” Drayden went on. “You’re the last of Gray Squadron. Do me proud. Godspeed Julian. I’ve sent remaining— Head to— fighter squadrons at—”
Julian spoke again, trying to receive a response. But the static remained, the communications collapsing and then going dead. He shouted, demanding the admiral answer him back.
“Damn you Drayden.”
Julian thought himself prepared for this. Just another battle, he wanted to say, his mind hardened for war. Logic and orders replacing any need to feel.
However, at that very moment, his armor was gone, his psyche naked to the fear. Julian took off his flight mask and threw it off to the side in anger. Sweat dripped down through his hair, as he swore.
Out in the cockpit window, Julian spotted the airless moon that carried Bydandia base. It was nothing but a world born of cement-like rock, a patchwork of military installations it’s only worth. But not to Julian.
He placed his hand on the glass window, trying to touch what was there.
“Nalia,” he said, imagining her face in the reflection.
It shouldn’t have mattered. Not as time was running out. Not when the mission was at stake. But still, he wanted to give in.
Please. Just get off that base!
Julian went on, practically begging for a response.
The comm was still down. The distance between them separated by space and now war. Nothing would come. Julian already knew.
There was only the alarm. The scans disrupted with more interference, and rising enemy activity.
He couldn’t ignore it any longer. Nalia’s face had slipped away from his thoughts. Not only was the danger growing, but a flash of light overran his sight. The sharp glare began flooding in from the cockpit windows, the entity seeking to press through.
Space, and any discernible view, was now gone.
The enemy, he told himself. The enemy was here.
He turned to his sensors, the computer analyzing the scans. The gravity in the area started to dramatically escalate. All the while waves of radiation rippled through the system. Perhaps it was a weapon, a last ditch anti-matter bombardment to fend off the enemy advance.
Julian went to the scans, hoping to find it — some sign of resistance.
He was wrong. The computer could read no traces indicating an explosion. What came in its place, was the presence. An incoming mass close to the size of a minor planet. The trail of spatial distortions was swelling. And now, the entity was moving. The speed accelerating.
He then remembered. Julian had seen this once before.
Grabbing the controls, he diverted all power to the engines. The Lightning beckoned, blasting its accelerators. As he inputted the new coordinates, he could feel it. There had been no time left. Not even a chance to say goodbye. Julian had lost her. He had lost everything.
***
Orbital shields had failed. Damage to the base had been severe. As far as she could tell, most of her fellow officers, if not all, were dead.
Nalia felt the blood trickle down from her scalp and into her left eye. Around her, she could see the ruin, pieces of broken metal and equipment scattered across the floor. Buried beneath them were the bodies of the other officers. Unconscious or dead, she did not know. A fog-like gas had spilled across the floor, clouding her view. Nalia felt her own body, aching at the pain at her abdomen. More blood then spilt on her hands, her uniform smeared in red.
In the distance, rumbled the enemy bombardment, echoing through what was left of the base. Much of the structure had collapsed, with whole sections destroyed by the falling weapons fire. The station would not hold much longer. This was clear. Even as the pain was almost too much to bear, Nalia could still recall it. She had seen the scans. Out in space was the enemy in all its power, an Endervar Overlord vessel looming above. As the enemy approached, the vessel had begun warping the space around it, targeting anything to come in its way. The admiral had ordered her and the rest of the crew to evacuate. But even then, she knew it was for naught. In what felt like seconds, the enemy had stripped the moon of its orbital shields. Then suddenly, the base itself began to rumble.
Nalia looked down at herself now, seeing her own blood paint itself across her uniform. Rubble splayed on her legs, an explosion having ripped through the hallway. She tried to move, but could no longer feel her legs. Wanting to speak, Nalia could only cough, her eyes nearly in tears. With each movement, she felt dazed, her body growing lifeless, as she lay on her side staring at the floor. Only minutes, maybe seconds more, she thought. Then she would be dead.
Nalia laughed.
It was a painful laugh, but still a laugh.
Death — it was finally here, and yet it didn’t at all matter. She was happy. Happy to have given those last orders.
She would not go down without a fight. As part of her final mission, Nalia had been assigned control of the system’s remote defenses. A small army of automated drones had come under her command, the ships numbering at only over a hundred, but still enough to make her mark.
Protect the Lightning — that had been the order. So she did so, sending every last drone to surround the ship, and fend off any would-be attackers.
Nalia didn’t know if it had worked. The enemy had drowned the scans with interference, her follow-up commands to the drones cut off.
Dying on the floor, she looked up to the ceiling, and thought of him.
“Fly,” she said with her last breaths. “Fly for me.”
As the life left her, the Overlord ship reached closer to the moon. Soon it appeared as if the massive vessel was on the verge of colliding with it. But as it came, the moon that carried Bydandia base began to fall apart. Gravity was cleaving away at its cracked surface, as boulders of land then broke from the shell, its body crumbling against the Overlord’s mass.
Finally, it shattered, torn to pieces by the Endervar mothership. The enemy now passed through the broken world, or what had now simply become a cloud of rock. The Overlord did so, blind to all the lives it had just ended. To the vessel, nothing else mattered. Only the annihilation.
PART II: ARENDI SOLDANAS
Chapter 18
She awoke with what seemed to be frost in her eyes. All around her, she felt the thick and soupy liquid pull at her armored frame. It was cold, freezing cold, her exterior temperature systems verifying that it was 200 degrees below Celsius.
This was not her ship.
The woman’s memory, a rush of half-second images, dithered in her mind. Containment had been lost, reactor core overload imminent, an explosion thereafter. It was then she remembered, the sensation gnarling itself inside. She wanted to scream.
A fire of agony seared inside her, the chest consumed in pain. But try as she may, she could do nothing to relieve it; her body was still reeling from the near system failure. In total, she had been shutdown for more than two weeks, only to finally become conscious again. The cause: an energy surge had struck through her body, penetrating its adaptable armor, and cutting into her processor cores.
She tried to move, wanting to grab at her chest, and claw away at the pain. But instead, her body rammed up against what felt like a metallic wall. From head to toe, she had been contained. Inside of what, she did not know.
Beyond
the pain and the coldness, she could feel something else. Something that was lost. Her connection absent. This was not her ship, its presence gone. “Control, report,” she said, hearing her voice echo in the confines. “Are you there?”
There was no response, only the eeriness of the liquid sloshing back and forth.
Basic systems were coming back online, her fingers, vision, smell and even taste all operating within normal parameters. However, stability to the primary power core was still under repair, the shard of unique energy it housed barely stable. Looking at her arms, she saw the traces of the damage, a scar-like depression etched down into her armor’s chest area.
Taking her right hand, she felt the hard surface around her, realizing that she had been sealed shut.
She pushed again, this time much harder — about thirty-times her normal strength. As the force hit the surface, the wall became unhinged. She then clenched the surface, the once rigid metal bending and twisting against her fingers. The woman pushed, this time shoving the metallic wall to the side as the compartment’s liquid flowed out.
She sat up, feeling a rush of air leave as further darkness surrounded her. Clouds of steam began to rise from her confines, but still, she could see, switching her optics to penetrate the gloom.
What seemed to be a corridor, suddenly felt more like a mechanical structure, the hum of machinery vibrating in the chamber. Temperatures around her were still low, reaching freezing levels. Immediately, she detected trace amounts of water vapor. Ice it had become, the particles both in the air and condensed in thin layers against the metal walls. What was this, she wondered, the room absent of any oxygen, with nothing to suggest a life-support system.
It was then she realized it. This was not simply a room, but a starship, a violet backdrop of streaming stars beaming through a large window up ahead. Scanning, she noticed what seemed to be a seat below the window.
The woman stepped down from the container, hearing an almost eerie silence within the confines. Her armored suit then clanked on the ground, the presence of artificial gravity registering through her scans.