The Void

This story is by Miguel A. Zamora and was part of our 2024 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

The annihilation of humanity loomed as the Consortium sought the extinction of the Earth Alliance. The Consortium wanted total control of the Delta Quadrant by taking over the Jump Gate network. The FSF Flynn and Birmingham were the two Defender class starships in the sector that could stop them, but the Flynn sustained major damage in the last attack.

A proximity warning alarm on the bridge of the Flynn caught the crew’s attention. On the viewscreen, three Consortium Dreadnoughts drop out of slipstream.

“Code red! Raise shields and deploy the fighters,” Captain Lopez ordered.

Red light engulfed the bridge. An ion blast struck the Flynn broadside. The navigation control station blew and flung Ensign Burke to the deck by the force of the blast. Electrical burns covered his body.

“Medical to the bridge. XO Transfer navigational controls to your station.”

“Aye, captain.”

“Ensign Fe, weapons free. All batteries,” Lopez ordered.

“Aye, sir.”

“Captain, our shields won’t hold against three ships,” the XO said.

“We only need to give the Birmingham enough time to finish the mission.”

“Captain, four more ships have dropped out of slipstream,” Ensign Fe said.

“Evasive maneuver Echo one,” Captain Lopez ordered.

“Captain, we have power failures throughout the ship and casualties,” the XO said.

Time slowed down for Captain Lopez. His heart raced and sweat beaded on his forehead. His clinched fists shook in anger at the sight of his battered ship and crew.

“Incoming! Brace for impact!”

A quad torpedo headed to the FSF-Flynn and then separated into multiple projectiles.

“Evasive maneuver, One-alpha, now!” Captain Lopez barked.

“Aye, sir, One-alpha engaged.”

Countermeasures were a millisecond too late. The projectiles scored direct hits, obliterating seven port side decks. The steel-shattering explosion flung crewmen out into the nothingness.

As sparks dripped from the ceiling and warning alarms rang out, Captain Lopez helped up an ensign from the bridge deck. “Report.”

“Shields at 40%. Hull breaches on decks 4 thru 11 and the engine room took a direct hit bu—”

The bridge crew looked out the front view screen as bodies of fellow crewmen floated by.

“Winchester!” Captain Lopez yelled. “Mission first. We’ll grieve after. XO, finish your report!”

Executive Officer Abigail Winchester reasserted her professional bearing. “Shields sealed around the breaches, sir!”

“Copy. Get me the Birmingham and recall our fighters.”

“Aye, sir.”

Lieutenant Commander Banks appeared on the screen, scrunching his brow. “Dammit, Captain, we need—”

An ion torpedo struck the Birmingham, knocking Banks off balance. “We have little time, Captain.”

“Activate the gate. I’ve recalled our fighters. We’re good to jump.”

“Captain, life support is 30% and falling fast. Power is 18%. We’re rerouting all available power to the forward shield array. But we’re stuck, sir,” the XO reported.

“The Flynn is dead in space, Banks. Beam my remaining crew aboard forthwith, but I’ll stay to make sure it blows at the precise moment.”

The ship took another hit, knocking Lopez to the deck. He regained his feet and wiped blood from his forehead.

Banks knew it was the only tactical option. He struck his fist across his chest smartly. “Good journey, Captain Lopez.”

Lopez smiled and reciprocated the motion. “Good journey, Commander. FSF- Flynn out.”

Lopez faced his crew and punched the ship-wide comm button. “Crew, it’s been an honor serving with you. Prepare to beam aboard the Birmingham. Lopez out.”

The XO removed her comm badge as the rest of the crew beamed off the ship, leaving just her and Lopez aboard the Flynn.

“That was ill-advised, Winchester.”

“I learned from the best, Cap… I hate it when you call me Winchester.”

An ion blast tore through the Birmingham cargo hold and turret access.

“Commander Banks, you there?”

“Aye, Captain,” Banks answered.

“My crew, Commander.”

“Gone. I’m sorry, Lopez.”

Captain Lopez slammed his fist into the bulkhead. He hung his head and took a moment. “You need to leave, Commander, before we lose both ships.”

“Aye, Captain. Give them hell.”

The Birmingham entered the Jump Gate and jumped. The vortex closed, and Lopez secured the gate.

“We got incoming, Cap.”

“Maximize rear shields! We’re… almost…there…”

“Abby, get to the hangar and fire up my spitfire. I’ll activate the self-destruct and adjust our course and meet you there.”

“Aye, Captain!”

Lopez activated the ship’s self-destruct as the gate opened.

47 meters from the gate, Lopez made it to the hangar and boarded the FSF-17 Spitfire Z, a two-seater attack fighter, and disengaged from the doomed ship.

“Hold on!” Lopez spun the attack ship around back towards the attacking fleet.

“Let’s give ‘em hell, sir!”

The two exchanged a glance, knowing it could be their last…

Lopez checked the monitor as the synchronized self-destruct counter ticked to zero. “Let’s hope those rear shields can—”

The blast lit up the void in blue light and knocked the ship into an end-over-end spin. The blast and shock wave engulfed the attacking enemy fleet a moment before Lopez passed out.

***

Two weeks later, Lopez sat on the nose of the spitfire and stared out into the vast expanses of space in the void between celestial objects.

Lopez stood and smiled as a convoy jumped out of slipstream. “Well, hello, beautiful.”

The Consortium was towing a Jaguar Class light cruiser, which had suffered damage but was salvageable. It was the spoils of war. This was the most advanced ship that the Earth Alliance had in the quadrant.

“Radio silence till it’s done,” Lopez said as he turned and faced Abby. He gave her a salute and pushed off.

“Here we go.”

Abby started up the fighter and made a run at the convoy. She fired a warning shot across the bow of the convoy.

“Tag, you’re it,” Abby yelled as she streaked by.

The two escort ships broke free and gave chase. Avoiding the blasts, she pushed her skills to the limit by throwing the ship from side to side. A dogfight ensued between the ships.

The attacking ships were fast, but they could not keep up with Abby’s maneuvering reflexes. She fired countermeasures to provide cover and create distance from her pursuers.

Abby slammed the front thrusters of the ship, causing it to break, and the two fighters overshot her.

“Too easy.”

She fired two missiles and struck both ships. The pilots ejected as the two-fighter exploded.

“Hooyah… later fellas.”

She went into a barrel roll. She couldn’t help but smile.

Lopez fired his thruster to slow his descent. He approached from the blindside of the transport. He shot an EMP grenade at the transport. The transport went dark, locking the pilots in the bridge. Lopez decoupled the ship and made it to the bridge. He patched into the ship’s computer and powered it up.

Lopez saw the explosions and smiled. “Payload secured. Jumping to the rendezvous.”

“Aye, Skipper.”

***

Lopez sat at a table where they could see the entire bar. The Port Tavern had a crowded and smokey atmosphere. All the conversations and blaring music were a sensory overload for him.

He pulled an old worn pocket watch from his jacket pocket. Abby was four hours late and not answering her communicator. Lopez placed a silver coin on the table and stood as the door opened and Abby walked in.

Lopez made eye contact with Abby and sat.

“You good? I was getting worried,” Lopez said.

“Yes, Skipper.”

“Come on, what’s wrong?”

“I knew the loss I’d endure by staying with you.”

“But?”

“It bothers me that everything has fallen into place this easy. So, either you fill me in, or I go my own way. I’ve had your back for years, and you still don’t trust me? Make a decision, Cap or I’ll make it for you.”

“You’re right. I owe you answers, and I would love nothing more than to give them to you, but events are in motion and I’m late.” Lopez slid two digital slips across the table.

“The red digital slip has the coordinates to a Safehouse. Everything needed for a fresh start anywhere you choose. Red equals restart. The blue digital slip has the answers you think you want,” Lopez said. “Open one, then the other disintegrates, so take your time.”

Lopez stood. “Whatever you decide, it’s been an honor serving with you.” He left her sitting alone.

Abby stared at the digital slips; first the red, then the blue, then back again. Her mind was racing, and she sat there until closing time.

“Hard time deciding?” the bartender asked.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Abby let out a breath. “How pathetic am I? I can’t decide and there are only two choices.”

“That’s not true. There’s always another choice.”

Abby perked up and chuckled at the bartender. “You know, you’re absolutely right.” She threw back her last shot-glass, slammed it upside down and the table, and walked away.