Friday Flash Fiction: Shooting Stars

Shooting Stars
By Gareth D Jones


“For eight million credits, it better had be good,” Rufus Balikind snapped at his aide. The translation back to realspace always gave him a bad head and made him feel irritable. Westerly knew to keep quiet until the mood passed. The two were making their way forward from the palatial VIP suite to the bridge of the cruiser. Flitting ahead of them was Damon Ulbrecht, their host and guide, who opened hatches with a wave of his hand and led them swiftly onto the bridge.

The bridge, Rufus knew, was far more grand and impressive than it had any need to be. Most of it was for show, to make rich idiots feel they were getting their money’s worth. Rufus was no idiot, despite the antiquated white hunter garb he wore. It was anachronistic, but it was his trademark. Entrepreneurs the length and breadth of the galaxy knew his reputation as the greatest living hunter and constantly plied him with invitations to patronise their establishments. Westerly was very good at fending off their fawning messages, but also very good at spotting something to tempt his boss.

“Take a seat,” Ulbrecht said, indicating the weapons console. The three crew members on duty nodded welcome at Rufus and his head cleared of its temporary haze as he took the seat. He took a moment to stroke the console, appreciating its elaborate yet efficient design, a fusion of baroque architecture and deadly functionality. Not the same as holding a weapon physically in one’s hands, but then he had never been aiming at a target so huge before. Westerly stood behind him, observing without distracting as Rufus settled down and began setting up the targeting array, a system he had spent plenty of time practicing with as they traversed half the galaxy to this remote location.

At last he confirmed the targeting solution with the computer and fired, then sat back to watch the main screen as it tracked the huge missile on its incredibly fast flight. The missile was quickly lost to sight as the monitor shifted, bringing the star EKL-44927 into view, a broiling mass of deep orange that filled a quarter of the screen. There now came a curious period when everything took twice as long as it should, the missile accelerating away to a distance of light minutes so they had to wait further minutes for the telemetry to return.

Unseen from the ship, the missile plunged into the heart of the star. It was several minutes before the effect could be seen: an explosion vast beyond comprehension. The outer shell of the star seemed to jump outwards and shatter into innumerable points of light that seconds later were obliterated by a rapidly expanding sphere of energy. The cruiser sat watching for several minutes as the tide of destruction rushed towards them, then the crew shifted them back out of realspace in a short hop that took them to a safer distance. There they sat and watched again as the results of Rufus Balikind’s greatest kill sprayed light across the void.


The End