Read Remember the Starfighter Online
Authors: Michael Kan
Remember the Starfighter (54 page)
Alysdeon had only personally met the elite commander once before. And even then, it had been a brief encounter, long ago, when she had been a different person. Perhaps a happier person.
There was no such designation pulled from scans, the view screens on board the bridge displaying the fleet, but the sensors failing to find any Alliance classification, or public ID.
It simply showed a defending force now active, and coiling around the collapser in a swarm of movement. Scans counted 601 vessels exactly, spiraling in a cataract of needles against the yellow sun.
“Are you sure, this is the one?” asked Julian, who was at the helm of the Au-O’sanah’s main controls. “I’m not even reading a sentinel ID from the ships.”
Alysdeon understood the skepticism. To many, the machine fleets were more like nameless weapons — vast, but soul-less, and ultimately expendable.
Alysdeon, however, knew better. Behind every machine fleet was a sentient A.I. in command, and one that had sworn to protect the galaxy.
This one, in particular, was something special, and considered a hero within the Sentinel Guard.
She looked back at the view screen, and studied the fleet. Within the black mass was the glimmer of blue, the crackle of watery light veining across the sheen of every ship.
Walking back to the bridge’s main control system, she looked at Julian, and reluctantly ordered him to proceed.
She then expressed a regretful gaze, her ruby eyes weighted with worry.
“Agreed,” Julian said, finalizing the prepared maneuver. “It doesn’t sit well with me either. I just hope you can pull it away from the collapser. Otherwise, this will get very messy.”
It was a dangerous proposition. Very likely, they would have to engage the machine fleet, in order to destroy the Ouryan collapser.
What that meant was confronting 601 ships, each deadly, and equipped with all the manner of cutting-edge weaponry. Julian had devised several viable flight patterns to counter the potential obstacles. But even so, the situation was certainly less than ideal; the machine fleet was so large it would be impossible to predict its actions. They just needed an opening — a way in to bomb the collapser into oblivion.
After accelerating toward the star, the Au-O’sanah slowed its advance, and waited at a safe distance for the machine fleet to make its move.
It did so, quite quickly.
“Looks like they’ve spotted us,” Julian said, the defending fleet bursting from its tight grip around the collapser.
“They’re charging weapons,” he added. “But still holding position.”
As Julian read the scans, he also noticed the message. It was a foreboding warning, and he displayed it to the main view screen.
HALT. APPROACH ANY FURTHER AND YOU WILL BE FIRED UPON. LEAVE THIS STAR SYSTEM IMMEDIATELY OR RISK YOUR DESTRUCTION.
It was only more evidence that their time was running out. Tapping into the Au-O’sanah’s communications, Alysdeon sent off her own message, hoping that it couldn’t be ignored.
She said the words, but saw no change in the fleet, and only heard silence on the other end of the communication stream.
Alysdeon continued.
It took a moment, but the elite commander she had once known finally responded, the military code transmitting to the view screen.
NOR HAVE I FORGOTTEN THEE. HOW COULD I? YOU ARE THE ONE AND TRUE SOVEREIGN.
Alysdeon smiled in relief, although what comfort she found immediately was stripped away.
WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE? THIS IS NO PLACE TO BE. THE COLLAPSER’S DEPLOYMENT IS IMMINENT. THIS STAR SYSTEM IS SCHEDULED FOR DESTRUCTION.
ANOTHER WAY?
In the next minute, she heard nothing. The files on the Endervar-based technology had been transmitted, but the response was met with another round of silence.
Anxious, Alysdeon paced around the bridge, thinking what else she could say to convince the old commander.
With no other choice, she went back into the past, and drew upon the one person that had brought them together, all those years ago.
“My son.” The words alone were enough to catch Julian’s attention, as he stood behind the window of holograms, listening.
Alysdeon, incidentally, began to reminisce. Taking a deep breath, she recalled that day long ago and the ceremony that had taken place: the sentient A.I. honored, along with the other man, at the machine’s side.
She smiled at the memory, even as there was still no immediate reply. So Alysdeon continued, the implants on her cheeks speaking in a steady, albeit impassioned tone.
Walking closer to the view screen, she gazed at the machine fleet on display, and wondered if the commander understood. Or even possessed the same kind of attachment as she did.
Alysdeon stopped, afraid that her statements had fallen upon deaf ears. But as she suspected, the old commander was not just a machine. The sentient A.I. behind the defending fleet had heard Alysdeon’s plea.
Like her, the machine known as “Mega” found itself reminiscing; the attachment was real, and etched across its very being.
KINNISON. I WILL NEVER FORGET HIM.
THE HONOR IS MINE. HE WAS A TRUE SENTINEL. EVEN GREATER THAN I. BUT HE WAS ALSO MY FRIEND. WHEN I HAD NO NAME, HE GAVE ME ONE. NOW I AM AND ALWAYS SHALL BE MEGA.
The words were just text on a screen, but the affection was apparent.
What followed was another drawn-out pause — the delay smacking of indecision. She kept her eyes locked on the view screen, when she noticed the abrupt movement.
The machine fleet went into action, the field of ships scattering apart. The path to the collapser clear.
She was about to message the commander once again, when the final statement from the sentient A.I. appeared alongside the view screen.
I APOLOGIZE SOVEREIGN. BUT THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM.
I HAVE MY ORDERS. AND YOU ARE A FUGITIVE. I DO THIS ONLY BECAUSE OF MY NEW ALLEGIANCE.
But there was no need. The scans had picked up the sudden change.
“It’s going off,” Julian shouted. “I’m reading an energy surge!”
The machine fleet continued to retreat, forming a distant ring around the ignited Ouryan collapser. She saw the weapon blaze in a glow of white, the six spires lost in the emerging glare.
Julian did so, and sent the Au-O’sanah on the path, the vessel racing toward the star.
It was a straight shot, the distance closing, and coming within firing range. Alysdeon expected heavy resistance, although so far, there was none. The machine fleet and its army of ships had all slowly pulled away.
She went to the weapons console.
“Good,” he said. “We’ll release everything we have. Phase cannons and all. Standby.”
Julian was tense, the next minute passing by as the Au-O’sanah sounded off in high wail. The engine speed was being pushed to its limit, the field integrity around the ship beginning to buckle to the escalating velocity.
But as the acceleration mounted, Alysdeon was more concerned by what she had just read. It was not only a statement from the sentient A.I., but another ill-fated sign.
Things are not what they seem—
She recounted the words, and looked back at the machine fleet; the ships were still present, and yet strangely, slowing their retreat.
When the realization came to her, it was too late.
“Almost there,” Julian said. “Ten more sec—”
Before the Au-O’sanah could even fire upon it, the Ouryan collapser had done the unforeseen. Exploding, the weapon of destruction, had prematurely expired, flooding the encompassing area in a miasma of vagrant energy.
“It’s gone. Destroyed.” Julian said. “Was that you?”
In fact, the Au-O’sanah had done nothing, only to pursue its target, and find itself shrouded in a rare form of radiation.
“I can’t see anything,” he said. “Sensors are only picking up something called radical particles. Shields are gone, and we can’t form any energy or kinetic fields.”
As Julian continued to cycle through the scans, Alysdeon had only one conclusion to make.
The Au-O’sanah was blind, the radiation like a dense fog around the still-cruising ship. Unbeknownst to it, the machine fleet was waiting on the fringes, ready to strike, as more of its brood appeared from hyperspace, the ships numbering in the thousands.
The Au-O’sanah screamed.
,
feeling bio-ship’s pain. The invading vessels were raking into the organic hull.
Grimacing to the damage, she clenched her hand and clapped it down on a nearby console.
In moments, the entire ship would be overwhelmed, the machine fleet locking together and clasping around its target.
Julian scrambled, still lost as to what was happening. But Alysdeon could already feel the movement within the Au-O’sanah, the heavy footsteps so close, they were just outside the bridge.
She acquiesced, and let the door to the room open, wanting the damage to stop.
Still confident, she straightened her uniform, as the organic wall across from her receded. What came was not the machine she remembered, but a proxy attack bot ready to fire.
Moving in a quick rush with its tri-pedal body, the drone sounded a loud shriek, as it charged its weapons.
Not at all least perturbed, Alysdeon raised her head.
Glancing at the attack bot’s body, Alysdeon then noted the blue pinstripe across the machine’s armored chest. It was all too visible, alongside the energy blaster now pointed at her.
MY APOLOGIES SOVEREIGN. BUT I NOW SERVE THE UNION.
The machine moved closer, and locked its red targeting lasers on both Alysdeon and Julian.
BY ORDER OF THE OURYAN COLLECTIVE, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST. COOPERATE AND YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED.
He was sedated and left unconsciousness. Over a day ago, the machine commander had lodged the device into his body and sent the shock through his brain.
“Fuck,” Julian said, stumbling up from the floor and feeling it protrude; the metallic node was still attached to the back of his neck.
He touched its cold surface, the device hammered in like a nail on top of his spine. Pulling at the surrounding skin before letting go, Julian breathed a depressive sigh.
Where am I?
How long have I been out?
It was a small room draped in near darkness, the black walls circular and windowless. Julian saw nothing else, but an empty floor, and the dull red light at the ceiling. Clearly, this was not a place to be lived in, but a cell designed to contain a prisoner.
Julian guessed he was probably on board a ship within the machine fleet. Or worse yet, he was already under the care of the Ouryan Union.
Perhaps that was why he was suddenly awake. His captors were close by and ready to begin the interrogation.
He patted his clothes and unruffled his flight jacket when he felt it again: the control node lodged against his neck reacting. But this time, it was with a release, the microscopic metal screws unhinging. Peeling the device from his skin, Julian cupped it in his hand.
“Are you here?” he asked. “Can you hear me?”
The machine commander was there, watching this whole time.
WE HAVE ARRIVED.
It was a high-pitched, but emotionless voice, the old commander inhabiting the hull itself and speaking into the room.
YOU WILL SOON BE TRANSFERRED TO THE OURYAN AUTHORITY FOR PROCESSING.
“Where is Sovereign?” he asked.
SHE IS SAFE. THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW.
He looked up at the ceiling, and squinted. “At least that’s something,” Julian said, his gaze falling back to the floor.
He clenched his teeth.
“It really was a trap, wasn’t it?” he whispered to himself. He was surprised, and maybe even pleased. The collapser, in all its power, had temporarily abandoned its main purpose. All in an effort to lure him into a trap.
Julian raised his voice and asked out loud. “How did you know?”
I DIDN’T. IT WAS THE WORK OF ANOTHER.
The door to the room then opened, the wall around him rotating and sliding back. At the entrance, he saw the same attack bot that had boarded the Au-O’sanah, followed by a long darkened path lit by a trail of more red light.
PREPARE YOURSELF. OURYAN INTERROGATIONS CAN BE SHORT, BUT EXTREMELY PAINFUL.
Julian opened his palm, and looked down at the metallic device that had once been lodged in his neck. It was a silver disc, thick, but nearly weightless. He guessed it was capable of both sedation and perhaps even bodily control. Breaking the device in his hand, he threw it down to the floor.
Julian straightened his jacket.
“I’m not afraid,” he said.
They were the same last words Julian had said to the Sovereign, before the machine commander had taken him away from her.
In her response, Alysdeon had smiled.
she had said in that final thought.