Remember the Starfighter by Michael Kan Page A

The damage from a single anti-matter bomb could decimate an area spanning a thousand miles or more. A vessel unshielded from the blast would surely be destroyed. But getting the bomb to hit was another matter. The weapon was so dangerous it was always fired at long-ranges, making it all too easy for the enemy to dodge or shoot down.
    Due to the weapon’s size, only one anti-matter bomb was equipped on each fighter craft. Julian would have to make sure he did not miss.
    He went to access the ship’s navigational computer. Layers of new data refreshed across his helmet and the electronic display screens. Maps, speeds, and feasible trajectories, formed a nebula of virtual images in front of his view. To an outsider, it would seem indecipherable. But for Julian, it took only a glance to find the meaning behind it. “Right there,” he said. “Got it.”
    The image showed it. Across the back side of the enemy ship, sensors detected a large gap, about half a mile in diameter, within the already weakened force fields. It was just the opening he needed.
    Julian inputted the controls, igniting the maneuver with the voice commands. “Initiating vector path delta-6,” he said. “Readying weapons. Engage!”
    The fighter craft answered his call, the engines firing in a long burn that spiraled the vessel. Julian’s fighter craft was approaching the speed of light, zooming past the sentry drones and angling his ship down toward the enemy vessel.
    It all must have happened in less than a second. But in that very moment, time stood still for Julian.
    He could feel the cloud of war bearing down on him, the weapons and the ship, a giant blur in his field of view. Even the engines were close to breaking, the kinetic charge overclocked and sent to the brink. 
    It was a danger and an uncertainty that left him breathless, the odds of his survival grim.
    Julian didn’t care. Deep down, it was just a simple feeling guiding his every move.
    Nalia , he thought. Nalia Kynestar.
    If he had to die to protect her, then let it be. Julian just had one thing left to do.
    Fire.
    The Endervar ship shattered like glass as the weapon hit. The vessel the size of a city fell into a torrent of debris. In millions upon millions of pieces, the enemy collapsed, brought down by the exponential annihilation of one particle destroying another. For a whole minute, the explosion shined in a shell of flame. Then it waned, growing dimmer and finally dissipating into nothing.
    Julian had not missed. The enemy was dead, the remnants of the Endervar ship vanishing from sight.
     

Chapter 10
     
    The Abenon had found his fighter craft near the edge of the star system, floating in the deepness of space. Miraculously, it had survived, avoiding any form of crash.
    The ship’s engine had been left burnt out and malfunctioning, a casualty of its maneuver to destroy the enemy. Aside from that, the vessel and its pilot had come away largely unscathed. If not for its homing beacon, the fighter craft would have been lost without a trace. But ultimately, the gambit had paid off, the ship flying on a random path out, just a second before the bomb hit.
    Julian lay there now, inside the Abenon’s medical bay, diagnosed with severe fatigue. Finding himself in a white gown, he sat up in his bed, his face unshaven. Across the room, he could see Nalia, staring down at the display console.
    “How are you feeling?” she asked, walking over to his bed.
    Rising from the blankets, Julian scratched his scalp, and wiped his eyes. He had been recovered over a day ago, but still he felt tired. 
    “Haven’t slept too well,” he groaned, feeling the bags under his eyes.
    Julian wetted his dry lips, and rubbed his arms and hands, like he was cold. 
    “Do you want a sedative?”
    “No. It’s okay.”
    He tried to think nothing of it. But Nalia suspected it was more than just a lack of sleep. The medicals scans showed minute signs of abnormal brain patterns, along with a high heart