The Starlight Fortress

by Fiona Rawsontile

  “Shut up!” The captain bounced up from his chair, his face blushing. “I’ve sent out the surrender signal and nobody responded!”

  Because you just ravaged their base! Geneva wanted to yell at her enemy. She studied the humongous warship for a few seconds and an idea clicked in her head.

  “You guys see this?” She walked over to the screen and pointed at one of the cylinders. “This missile launcher does not function yet. We can attach our ship to it, which is beyond the range of their batteries, and nobody will shoot us because—”

  “Have you gone nuts, Geneva?” Stella said.

  “Trust me! This one takes the special Wild-Ring missiles ...” She paused and rubbed her head. “Can’t believe I’m doing this! We’re the only country that produces those missiles, and we haven’t finished their order.”

  “Who are you?” the captain asked.

  “I’ll draw you a family tree later. Now just do what I said, please!”

  “Sir, maybe she’s right,” somebody said. “I haven’t seen it fire at all.”

  The captain made a long sigh. “Jesus Christ …”

  * * *

  Inside the Combat Direction Center of the Caparise, Captain Rafael Tait was looking at the blue planet ahead of him. The reflection on the window revealed a muscular man at his late thirties. Beside him, a table monitor displayed the current battle situation, but he didn’t need to see it. A piece of cake—to help their ally and catch a few ships on their way. He’d been through loads of nastier situations during his eighteen-year military life.

  Speaking of his military life, it was once considered a legend. The majority of the Sunpherean commissioned officers graduated from their Space Force Academy, while he didn’t even finish high school. It was Oakley, the then-captain of the Caparise, who discovered his talent and nourished his career development. Honestly, he never understood why he was so adept in battles. His instincts always turned out to be right at critical moments. Next week he would be awarded the Medal of the Sun for the second time. But meanwhile, it seemed his career had reached a plateau. He should’ve been promoted to Rear Admiral long ago, and he was in fact executing a rear admiral’s power. Why should one be judged by his academic performance so many years ago? Education is a means, not an end result. Look at how people treated that lucky young guy who recently became the queen’s assistant! He had barely been through two decent battles …

  “Sir, we got a communication request from that ship,” someone said behind him.

  “Take it in.” Rafael turned to look at the screen beside him. Soon the situation map was replaced by the image of a group of Thypholian soldiers, along with three stylishly dressed girls.

  Rafael smiled dismissively. “Is it a fashion nowadays to bring your girlfriends …” His smile disappeared as he leaned over to the screen. “Is that Her Majesty?”

  “Hi!” Geneva waved her hand.

  Failing to get a definite answer from his dumbfounded officers, Rafael asked his ships to check fire and forwarded the image to headquarters.

  * * *

  Fleet Admiral Wilson turned back and glared at Sterling. “How’d she end up there?” His large gray beard swung up and down as he spoke. “Does that have anything to do with you?”

  “She borrowed my Nebufleet, sir.” Sterling had an ominous feeling about his ship.

  “We need to contact Rainprus,” Oakley interrupted. “I think the other girl is Princess Stella.”

  “Alright, you tell Jonathan to pick up his daughter,” Wilson said to Oakley without looking away from Sterling. “I know that girl, another troublemaker … Why are you still here, Commander Presley? To take more notes? Who’s going to read your notes if you lose your boss? Go downstairs and grab a ship. Now! If you fail to bring her back, there’s no need for you to come back either!”

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Sterling was on his way to Planet RA-4 when he learned that the queen and her friends had been safely transferred to the Caparise. Ribbon Islands’ moon base was seriously damaged, but it could’ve been worse if they hadn’t received the timely warning from Queen Geneva and the help from her fleet. Seven of the eighteen Thypholian warships were destroyed, and the rest were captured. It was now believed that no more disguised enemies were left in the Stony Band.

  Relieved, he headed to the cafeteria. “She’s our lucky queen,” he heard people talking in the hallway. “It’s only been a few months, and we’ve had two victories!”

  Victories? Sterling shook his head. The Battle of the Stony Band was only a preparation, and now the enemy had achieved its goal. It would take Ribbon Islands at least a year to recover from the trauma. What would be next, and when? As he walked, he saw the sun of the Renaisun-B system in the distance, the sun that shined Emperor Pompey’s world. It didn’t look bright due to the automatic adjustment of the filtration system embedded in the windows, but it must be bright enough to nurture that large empire with its eleven colonies.

  What was Pompey thinking at the moment? Was he done with foreplay?

  When Sterling arrived at the Caparise, he was told that the queen was in the dining hall. A familiar smell of warm metal and air freshener surrounded him as he walked downstairs to the mess deck. This was the oldest carrier model in the country. The paint and grains on the stairs for adding friction had long been erased by footsteps. For four years, this was his home, and God knew how much he missed it!

  “I must’ve known you were coming!” said the chef of the Caparise, when Sterling briefly dropped by the kitchen. “I haven’t made your favorite onion soup since you left, and I don’t know what got me into making it just for tonight … Oh, the queen likes it!”

  The queen likes any food, Sterling said to himself.

  Normally at this time of the day, everybody would have gone to bed, but soldiers were hungry after battles, and who wanted to miss the rare opportunity to eat with the queen? Sterling was still full. He just wanted the soup. He was in front of the food trays at the entrance when he heard a familiar voice, “Commander Presley, how have you been?”

  He turned around and saw Rafael holding a bottle of beer, several of his favorite pilots following behind as usual.

  “Congratulations, sir,” Sterling said. “I heard you’re awarded another Medal of the Sun.”

  “Thank you, but I should be the one to say congratulations. Look at you, role model of every soldier in our fleet.”

  “Absolutely,” said one of the pilots. “Inches away from the center of power. Millions of miles away from where the real danger is.”

  “Don’t be so mean,” Rafael said. “The fact that one quits battles doesn’t mean one quits sacrifice.”

  “That’s true. Keep an eye on your health, Commander Presley. I heard you work hard for your boss—around the clock.”

  Rafael and his men all burst out laughing. Sterling grabbed a tray quickly and entered the dining hall. His hands still shook slightly when he sat down with his soup, two rows away from the long table where Geneva was sitting with a dozen soldiers. There were wisps of loose hair dangling away from her bon. The ruffles on her dress were half torn around the neck. Her left temple must be hurting judged by the frequency she rubbed it with her fingers. But she seemed to be in a good mood.

  “How do you like the food here?” he heard her asking.

  “Not bad, ma’am,” someone said. “But it used to be better. They took away the cheese platters last year … and the clam chowder.”

  Geneva was quiet for a while. Then she leaned forward and scrutinized something on the table. “Sir,” she stood up and said to the Executive Officer who was standing aside. “What’s this?”

  “These tables are donations from a furniture company. Their only request was to have a line here.”

  “Are we so short of budget?” She sighed softly. “We can’t open that gate, or one day we’ll find our soldiers wearing slogans on their backs. Scrape off the words and pay them at market price.”

  After she s
at down again, Rafael came over and said something to her. She nodded briefly and walked to the front of the hall. The noise and chatters quickly subsided as people’s attention was drawn to her.

  “It’s a great pleasure to meet everyone here on this … unexpected occasion.” She rubbed her temple again. “Since the beginning of this war, I’ve heard lots of stories from my father about you, the Sunpherean Second Fleet, one of the most famous troops in the world. About how you held your ground at the battlefront long after our allies had quit. How our heroes created one miracle after another with their courage and wisdom. And I’m sure this is what I’m going to experience in the upcoming years.”

  How could she talk to people like that without fear? Sterling wondered. Every time he stood in front of a crowd he’d immediately feel his body immobilized.

  “I wish we were in better shape—more industrial resources, more budgets, and more support from our people. I just heard some of you complaining about the food. Yes, you do have the right to complain. When I started my job I also complained: why didn’t I get to choose a different career? Today, when I was with you here, far away from my well-protected office, I got to experience what it is to face the enemy up front …”

  You weren’t “facing” the enemy, Sterling thought with amusement.

  “… to be outnumbered, to be aimed at. And I suddenly realized that I don’t have the right to complain. Some of you may consider me as a symbol, but I don’t confine myself to that! I believe my effort will count, everyone’s effort will count, will make a difference. However small and insignificant it appears to be, that’s how we human beings achieve our goals as a group, as a family.”

  Her gaze searched the audience and fell on the Executive Officer. “Sir, when I go back I will talk to Sir Lloyd about adding more choices to the meals. Meanwhile, you can go ahead and put the cheese platters back. We are an agricultural country. We are proud of being able to provide quality food to a whole planetary system, under the condition that our own soldiers do not suffer from malnutrition. Maybe we don’t need to import those fancy cars and ships each year, but we can’t live without a strong barrier between home and our enemy. Our allies have just learned their lesson. Let’s try not to make similar mistakes. That’s all I want to say today.”

  * * *

  By the time people gradually left the dining hall, the ship was not far from their home planet. Sterling caught up with Geneva when she headed outside, and his ominous feeling was confirmed by the panic and guilt on her face.

  “Oh, hi! Thanks for coming!” She avoided eye contact with him, a tote bag tightly held in her hands. “I … your ship … I told them to retrieve it, but they said it’s not worth it. They saved the painting, though.” She raised the bag.

  Sterling sighed and took the bag. “I should’ve seen this coming, given the history that you once bumped your Nebufleet into a Pathway Escort—”

  “You knew about my accident?” She looked at him with those awfully large eyes. “And you still lent me your ship?”

  “Geneva!” Princess Stella and another pretty girl appeared at the end of the corridor.

  “We’re going home,” said the other girl.

  “Actually, I’m not,” said Stella. “Not in the same ship with Swinburne.”

  A few minutes later, they were all standing in front of an exit. Through a window, Sterling saw a crystal blue ship edging closer to the Caparise. The hull around the stern was made of one giant piece of glass, revealing an elevator that connected the ship’s five floors. On the highest floor, faint lights flashed and zigzagged on the glass. There must be a swimming pool, Sterling thought. One of his roommates at the Academy was crazy about boats. Sterling remembered borrowing his magazines a couple of times and being stunned by some of these luxuries.

  After a passage was formed between the two ships, Geneva and the pretty girl stepped forward and pressed their faces against the round window on the hatch. “He’s looking at me!” “No, he’s looking at me!”

  “Stupid girls!” Stella hit a button beside the hatch. The two girls jumped back as the hatch slid away. A young officer in Rainprian uniform was standing at the other end, completely undisturbed by the jarring passage as the two ships made their final adjustments.

  That was Charlie Swinburne? Sterling couldn’t believe his eyes.

  The Royal Fleets of Rainprus had a number of officers from wealthy and noble families, including Prince Anthony. Sterling didn’t think highly of them in general, given their mediocre performance at battlefields. But an exception was Charlie Swinburne, grandson of King Jonathan’s aunt. His squadron was quick, resolute, and all-conquering. A blade that always aimed at the enemy’s heart, and Sunphere’s most reliable ally. Based on his commanding style, Sterling had unconsciously pictured him as a fierce-looking guy. But now even seen from a distance, Charlie was unmistakably a gentleman. With his silky blond hair bound into a ponytail, his hands casually laid behind his waist, a humble smile nearly undetectable on his face, he looked like a prince who had just stepped out of a middle-age legend.

  Not everyone present seemed to like Charlie, though. As Geneva was hugging the other girl, Princess Stella plunged through the passage and turned a blind eye to the greeting from her remote cousin.

  “Stella! I haven’t hugged you yet!” Geneva called out in disappointment.

  “Why don’t you come over for a cup of tea, Geneva?” An enchanting voice, even to a man like Sterling.

  Geneva glanced at her watch, and her shoulders drooped. “It’s really late. Those poor guys are still waiting for me at headquarters.”

  “And they’ll meet you after they have waited. When would be my turn?”

  She chuckled briefly. “When our enemy makes another attack, maybe?”

  “Is Sunphere running out of people so the queen has to be enlisted?”

  She chuckled again and waved at him. Before she closed the passage, Charlie’s voice flew over again. “My intelligence said the enemy’s contriving an attack on my house during the Harmony Day weekend. I’ll be anticipating my ally’s assistance.”

  Chapter 5

  Geneva had planned to go on a diet for the few weeks before Harmony Day. It might be too late, after gaining fourteen pounds in the past two years. A plate of salad was all she could have for dinner. Then she would wake up at midnight with a whining tummy and treat herself with cookies. After all, nobody in the world was truly worth starving herself. Besides, there were always pretty women in Charlie’s life. Knowing what her strengths and weaknesses were, she seldom stretched herself to meet others’ standard.

  Anyhow, when Charlie’s ship arrived on the Saturday morning of that weekend, she did manage to present the best of herself. She had loosened her curly hair and added stripes of highlights—a trick to elongate her face. The crinkles that ran down through her silver gray dress had a similar purpose. And of course, the dress was long enough to cover her plump legs.

  “What a lovely ship!” Geneva said as she embarked. Compared with the ones she owned, Charlie’s ship was more of a business style. The cream carpets with faint floral patterns, the contemporary sofas, everything appeared ordinary, yet it didn’t take long for one to become addicted to their uniqueness. Any need that may occur to the occupant must have already been considered by the designer. Not a single item clamored for attention; not a single existed without a practical purpose.

  “A gift from my father.”

  No wonder, she thought. The ship was made in Artorna, the large kingdom located in the Renaisun-C solar system, a highly developed society built on business, a territory even Emperor Pompey did not dare to touch—at least not yet. She knew Charlie’s father was a businessman from Artorna. His marriage with Charlie’s mother had once caused a storm of objections in the Rainprain royal family, but people’s attitude changed dramatically as his father’s business quickly spread into energy, transportation, and electronics. She sat down with him on a sofa and looked around, trying to imagine how those
businessmen and women, who lived in another solar system, far from this world and this war, were currently monitoring stock markets, selling real estate, and managing products that were unrelated to mass killings.

  “Do you visit your parents often?” she asked, looking through the window at the ocean outside. Water streamed sideways as the ship sailed along. Occasionally seagulls and dolphins would come into sight. She knew it was a fake image; she should be staring at the plain sky, but she enjoyed it.

  “Twice a year, usually. Every time I see them, they’d ask me to move there. Once I stayed there for a few months …”

  Sensing a slight change of his tone, Geneva turned to look at him. His face was still tranquil and charming, but some shadows emerged in his ocean-blue eyes. Did something happen to him at that time?

  “I realized I don’t belong there. Maybe when I get older …” He bent forward and fetched out a box of chocolate from beneath the sofa.

  “Oh, thanks!” Geneva smiled and untied the ribbons. Then she started talking about her passion for food, knowing the previous conversation had hit a dead end.

  * * *

  It was dinnertime when they arrived at Rainprus’s capital, although they had only traveled for three hours. In the past, Geneva’s trips had always been confined to the king’s palace. So when Charlie asked her whether she wanted to eat out or go directly to his place, she said she’d be happy to take a look at the city. Compared with Sunphere, the streets were better oriented and the buildings were newer and taller, even though the two countries were born around the same time. Trees flourished everywhere due to abundant rain. Long glass shelters covered all the sidewalks to free people from carrying umbrellas in the evenings.

  “What’s going on there?” Sitting in the back of the car, she leaned over to the window and pointed to the plaza with a big crowd and lots of slogans. Failing to get an immediate answer, she turned to him with an inquiring look.

  Charlie said rather cautiously, “The Ragged Wealth, I believe.”