The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (49 page)

As she did this, Arendi searched. The mother ship and its sensor readings were partially mangled, but there was enough data coming in to notice it. Of all the ships on display, she was looking for one vessel in particular.

The Au-O’sanah, Arendi said. I’ve found it.

The craft entered the battle, spinning through the swarm. The ship was relatively small but agile and fast. It was among the forces leading the charge against machine flyers. Arendi was familiar with the vessel. She knew the pilot well.

Julian, are you there?

Her voice spoke through the transmission. The mother ship’s communication array was boosting the power. Arendi brushed the front of her hair, asking again. Seconds passed, each long and pronounced, but someone was listening and wanting to speak.

Arendi. Is that really you?

She heard Julian’s voice. It was cluttered with static and was very surprised. The man asked as he commanded his own vessel to soar toward the mother ship.

Yes. It’s me, Arendi replied. I’m here.

Although she couldn’t see it, the pilot grinned on the other end. I received your message. We all did. We’re moving to intervene. Stand by

The Au-O’sanah daggered forth, blasting its main battery of weapons. It flew, slicing away at the enemy drones with one pass after another as the rest of fleet did the same. The salvos rained down with the force of phase beams, torpedoes, and fusion bombs.

The mother ship drifted, finally free and barely alive. The ten-mile-long craft had practically been beaten to a pulp. Parts of the hull were perforated and breaking; the outer edges and insides were charred and burned away. But in the end, the swarm had been forced to relent. The Enforcer and his remaining drones fell back, desperate to protect their priority. The Alliance was closing in.

For Arendi, the smoke seemed to lift. She could hear the pilot loud and clear.

Focus on the Gateway. The pylons, Arendi said. Maybe we can destabilize it.

Copy, Julian said. The next strike is already under way. We’ll end this.

As the Au-O’sanah moved on, the swarm itself dispersed. The machine flyers were scrambling to intercept. The diminishing fog of drones withdrew to the Gateway, trying to stave off the oncoming assault. But there were simply too many Alliance ships. The strike force was quick to advance and mount its next and final siege.

Capital ships in range, the Destroyer said, watching the scans and chuckling quietly.

Enforcer, he muttered. Prepare to suffer.

The bombardment arrived, ruthless. Hundreds of warships converged, firing their main guns. The resulting barrage was larger, fiercer, and more precise than the last. With the enemy swarm nearly beaten and struggling to keep pace with the assaults, the targets ahead were fully exposed. The repeated volleys struck and massacred the space. The victim: the Enforcer and the containment field protecting his precious prize. Inevitably, the ring of pylons, each a pillar holding the Gateway together, fell.

Forty percent down, Arendi said. Now fifty.

The pylon network crumbled. The containment field sustaining the reaction then unraveled. Its stability staggered. The strike force fired again. The shots struck another segment of pylons before focusing on the Gateway itself. The technology smoldered at the core of the exotic matter. It was on the verge of converting the fuel into the necessary power. The heart inside was nearly ready to beat. But now it was naked and suddenly weak.

Yes, Arendi said. It’s starting to fail. Collapse is imminent.

***

Farcia could do nothing but watch. She had made her choice. The holoscreens reflected that. The intense glare from the Gateway shone over her face. Then it began to die. She saw the bombardment obliterate the technology. Out in space, the gunfire concentrated; beam blasts and artillery strikes intersected and combined, cratering away and slicing. This was the killing blow: an onslaught that was only set to destroy. The Enforcer and his chamber of power wouldn’t survive it. The machinery at the center of the reaction came apart. The assault was tearing it away, piece by piece. The Alliance warships surrounded the Gateway, emptying round after round, leaving nothing to doubt. The forbidden technology and all its potential perished under the attack. The incoming volleys sought to wipe the space clean.

It all came with a cost, however. Farcia was the only one who could sense it. The light from the Gateway faded as the entire mass of exotic matter shriveled. Without the containment field, the dormant energy inside was about to disappear.

My home, Farcia thought.

The final reminder lay as a shadow. The remaining glow and the contours of the dead matter sank away into the true night. Any chance to revive her people was gone. The prospect dwindled like an illusion, never really there.

The promise it’s broken

Farcia heard the echoes. They clattered into her mind. She shook, feeling the machine metal from the Enforcer still at her back, gripping her skin.

We came all this way only to fail.

The cold breath touched and nipped at her neck. The bellow dragged through her ears, scratching. The voice was trying to cling to her and summon that regret.

Everything is lost the last hope

She heard it all racing through her head. The sorrow and the guilt. The self-punishment gnawed, angry. But the torment came from no machine. It was simply she herself, desperate and afraid.

The point of no return from now on, you are the last

Farcia silently nodded to herself. There had been no other choice. Despite her own fears, she had to be strong and forge ahead. She looked back at the holoscreens and the ensuing collapse. For a moment, she tried not to cringe. The vision of her home was wasting away. The glimmers of light forever dimmed.

Farcia told herself that it didn’t matter. That it was already dead. This remnant of her world was simply a corpse, floating in the void. If anything, it had needed to be put to rest. No tears needed to be shed. But Farcia cried anyway. Her eyes welled up with the liquid ash. She then dropped to her knees, holding in her pain.

The Alliance continued to strike blows. The ring of pylons had been reduced to debris. The physical laws of this reality did the rest. The existing universe carried the corpse away. Through her tears, Farcia glanced at the shrinking field of dead matter. It was slipping into the darkness and then blinking out of existence.

The great empire my people

They were gone. There was no turning back. All she could do was watch and remember. As the last remnant finally disappeared, Farcia tried to move on.

Good-bye, she said, closing her eyes, hoping to find solace.

But for now, all Farcia could feel was the tragedy of it and nothing else. The tears drenched her face, leaving it awash in doubt.

Chapter 50

Arendi felt her face. Her softer left hand touched the skin and then the damage. Her fingers crossed over the burns and cuts. The synthetic fibers beneath and maybe even the bone metal opened like boils across her cheeks and forehead. She had no mirror, but she could tell the wounds were visible.

She stretched her right arm, the mechanical claw. It was also maimed and distorted. The surfaces were riddled with scratches and dents each a memento from the fighting. She was tired of the sight and let the arm detach from her shoulder and drop to the floor with a loud clank. She then groaned, staring down at her tattered self.

Alysdeon was nearby and reassured her. She patted Arendi’s shoulders and then her hair.

They waited at the edge of the mother ship, next to the docking port. The Destroyer was there as well, leaning against a wall. The blond-haired man gazed up to the ceiling, imagining the other sight.

To return, he said, thinking past the bulkhead and to the fleet hovering outside, after twenty-one years.

The strike force slowed and gathered around the mother ship. The battle had finally ended. The last of the swarm had retreated, beaten and with nothing left to defend.

The Enforcer and his Gateway lay in the dust, annihilated. The reaction had failed to go off. The energy conversion had ultimately stalled and declined as the entire pylon network had come crashing down.

Victory, the Destroyer whispered to himself, amused. Even he had doubted their chances. Secretly, he had half-expected something closer to a glorious death. Life, however, had chosen to surprise him.

Our reinforcements, the Destroyer remarked. They were practically hiding in plain sight.

The lost fleet. They had all assumed that the strike force had been obliterated all those years ago. The records from the Defector had indicated as much.

The entire crew of officers is believed to be dead, the final messages had shown. 256 core ships destroyed a total loss.

The Destroyer smirked, glad the intel was wrong. The fleet had, in fact, disappeared into the realm of the Endervars. The alien reality had claimed them, leaving the strike force nearly trapped.

Alysdeon said.

Yes, Arendi said. I guess we were never really alone.

It was a comforting thought. They had traveled to the other side of the galaxy, into the unknown, only to find the familiar. In a moment of desperate need, the fleet had come pouring out of the abyss. But even so, the wait had been long. More than two decades long.

A lot has probably changed, Arendi said, thinking of those years and then of herself. She touched her face again and wondered about that. Her artificial mind was flipping through the eras. The memories, stretching back to thirty years ago, churned in her machine sights. Then her gaze shifted. Her eyes focused on the now.

Alysdeon walked the floor, moving closer to the docking port door. The implants across the woman’s cheeks flashed gold. Her telepathy was reaching past the hull into nearby space. Through the void, she felt the longing and smiled with a warm blush.

she said. To her, and to them all, this was a rare reunion.

The vessel from the strike force was preparing to dock. The Au-O’sanah a living and thinking bioship approached. The craft also felt Alysdeon; it was eager to meet, and so was the pilot in command.

The gears in the bulkhead wall cranked. The landing bridge outside attached. The docking port door then opened as a man appeared at the other end. He awkwardly wobbled, entering the lighter gravity. His eyes, however, were searching for them.

It’s confirmed, the pilot said. Yes. They’re here.

Julian spoke the words into the comm-link at his collar. The fleet listened as other vessels began to dock. His voice, however, rose past formality and into pleasant disbelief. He looked at Arendi from afar and then glanced at Alysdeon and the Destroyer. The three figures were out the open, gathered together inside the corridor.

I never expected this, he said with a grin.

As Julian stepped on board the mother ship, Arendi came closer, thinking the same thing. She watched him, somewhat cautious.

He was only a few feet away now, dressed in a black Alliance uniform. He slung the plasma rifle over his back, and pulled off the combat visor that was covering his eyes. Yes, it was him, in the flesh. It was obvious the moment he arrived. The look and the voice, even his gait it was all there. This was no simulation. This was reality.

Arendi heard his step and then his breath. For a moment, she was even tempted to scan him to verify it. He seemed so oddly identical to her memories of him. The sudden familiarity seemed unreal. Ironically, she was also a bit afraid. To remember was one thing but to see and meet the truth was another.

Julian, she said, tense.

It’s been a long time, he replied, relaxed and elated. Despite the bruises and cuts over her face, Julian still recognized her.

He was in high spirits and came to hug her. The embrace was casual and light. In turn, Arendi patted his back with her left arm and then touched his hair. It was real and not a memory. She felt the strands of hair in her fingers and then his heartbeat against her chest. His presence made her hold on tight. She sniffed and smiled. He was finally here.

Julian, however, pulled away. He gazed over her again, unsettled. He had to ask, squinting: Are you OK?

His eyes darted up and down her body, alarmed. Julian saw her partially broken face and then touched her right shoulder, feeling where the arm had come off. The cybernetic armor over her body and all the damage to her made her appear more machine than woman.

What happened? he asked, clearly concerned.

She glanced down at herself and then back to Julian, realizing that he was completely unaware. The man had returned after two decades without any idea of all that had occurred. The Gateway and the Enforcer and so much else. Julian would have aged.

Arendi took a step back, noticing his confused face. I’m fine, she said tersely. Don’t worry. I’m fine.

She forced a smile, but both of them could tell something was off. Julian, on the other hand, appeared perfectly fine, almost unchanged.

He then went to hug Alysdeon. The Destroyer, meanwhile, merely waved. The blond-haired man was too proud to do much more. He let his holographic appearance slowly recede as the drone projecting it walked off.

Julian glanced at the man and at his friends, thankful. All of you are here, he said. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see any of you again.

Alysdeon said.

We almost were, he replied.

He blew the air out from his cheeks, relieved. For him, the whole experience was just as surreal and sudden. Julian scratched his beard and thought back to the fleet. Before his reemergence, the strike force had nearly been crushed. He stared at the floor, remembering it.

Our contact with the Unity told us about the target here. We knew it was vital, so we attacked, Julian said. But we didn’t quite understand what was happening to the surrounding space. By then, it was all starting to warp.

The experiment had effectively pulled the entire strike force into another realm. The forces at work had quickly plunged the area into a cosmic whirlpool. He recalled the chaos and all the fighting. The battle was almost over, but then it was too late, Julian said.