Star Cruiser Titan

by C. G. Mosley

  “Starboard cannons took a direct hit,” Hogie called out in response.

  “Same for the port side,” Bull said.

  “Alright,” Banshee said, pleased. “Now we focus our attention on the fighters. We stay together, and we fight together. I want each of you to follow my lead—and communicate, but let’s keep the chatter to a minimum. Understood?”

  As Echo squad radioed their affirmations, Banshee again pulled the stick toward her. The stars against the backdrop of the vast blackness of space streaked by outside her canopy. Her Comet fighter did an inverted loop and then began a sharp dive straight toward the ensuing dogfight below. She saw streaks of purple bursts, along with streaks of orange cannon fire directly below. It quickly became apparent how advanced the weaponry was on the diamond-shaped Kaloian fighters.

  Banshee smiled as she continued her dive toward the chaos, and Echo squad remained tight on her six. She’d been waiting her whole life for a moment like this.

  Chapter 16

  Captain Malcolm Steiger’s order had come just seconds too late. The gunner for the Pinnacle responded to his captain’s order to fire the cannons as soon as he’d heard the word pass Steiger’s lips. Unfortunately, the plasma cannons did not respond.

  “Something’s wrong, sir,” Tago Mari said with disgust.

  He turned to Malcolm. His mouth had become a straight line, his brow furrowed. “Some of their fighters seem to have disabled our cannons,” he added.

  Malcolm glared at him with an icy stare. “Disabled or destroyed?” he snapped.

  Tago Mari picked up a small microphone in front of him and barked instructions to the engineering department. As he did so, Malcolm stood and looked on through the viewport as the SC Titan continued streaking toward them in a downward trajectory.

  “Lieutenant Eskar,” Malcolm said, turning to his helmsman. “Prepare to pursue the Titan. We’ll pursue them until we can either blast them out of the sky, or reinforcements arrive.”

  “Very well Captain,” Makot Eskar replied.

  Suddenly, there was a thunderous sound above them and the entire bridge rocked so hard that Malcolm fell hard to the ground. Tago Mari quickly appeared at his side and helped him to his feet as an alarm wailed loudly around them.

  “What happened?” Malcolm asked. His forehead was bleeding and he had to close his right eye to keep the blood out of it.

  “It seems one of their fighters just attacked the top of our ship,” Tago replied. “We were lucky…it just missed the bridge.”

  “The enemy ship is firing on us!” Makot Eskar yelled. “It’s going to—”

  Eskar’s words were cut off as the Pinnacle once again took a direct hit. This time, the blast seemed to have originated from the bottom of the ship and Malcolm knew immediately that it had come from the Titan’s laser cannons.

  So much for repairing our plasma cannons, he thought with disgust.

  ***

  Christian “Sabre” Smith and Bravo squad made quick work of the cannons on their respective target, but not before the smaller Kaloian ship managed to get off a shot. Sabre rolled his Comet fighter and managed to avoid the glowing ball of blue plasma as it darted by. He immediately checked on the rest of his squad and was pleased to see that they too had managed to avoid disaster.

  “Can anyone see if that shot hit anything friendly?” Sabre asked, as he instinctively looked over his shoulder in desperation to see for himself.

  “It looks like it cleared all the other Comets and the Titan too,” a female voice called out. It was Charity Price, call-sign Covergirl.

  “Great!” Sabre replied. “Now let’s go to work on these enemy fighters.”

  Due to the fact that, aside from Alpha squad, Hotel squad had no ship to target, they were immediately under serious duress from the attacking Kaloian fighters. Sabre noticed their squad leader, a nine-year S.A.M.A. veteran named Harlan “Howler” Wolfe, taking fire from a pursuing diamond fighter. His squad members were unable to assist him since they too were under fire.

  “Hotel squad needs help,” Sabre said. “Break off and let’s get our guys out of trouble!”

  No sooner had the words passed his lips, a bright flash of light illuminated Sabre’s cockpit. The unfortunate source of the bright light came from an exploding Comet fighter. It was one of Hotel squad’s, and it seemed that the Titan had suffered its first casualty.

  “Oh my god,” Morgan “Moose” Cross said with an unmistakable sadness.

  “Who was it?” Covergirl shouted.

  “Doesn’t matter now!” Sabre quipped. “Let’s make sure they don’t get another one from Hotel squad…now shut up and fight!”

  He guided his own fighter toward the relentless pursuing diamond fighter behind Howler. Sabre used his target guidance system to engage the pursing Kaloian fighter with ease. He squeezed the trigger on the stick in front of him and quickly disposed of the enemy ship. “Hell yeah!” he shouted, victoriously.

  “I owe you one!” Howler said, after flipping over to Bravo squad’s frequency.

  “Did you take any hits?” Sabre asked.

  “Yes, they’ve got plasma cannons,” Howler replied. “One of their bolts glanced off my right wing…it’s making my bird pull hard to the right…I’ve gotta constantly pull the stick toward the left to keep her straight.”

  “You should get back to the Titan,” Sabre urged.

  “No,” Howler replied immediately, and there was a hint of anger in his tone. “They just took out Cyclops…and now we’ve got to make them pay.”

  The revelation that the doomed Comet pilot was Cooper Jenkins was a hard pill to swallow. Sabre was very much aware that Covergirl knew him well and had received her pilot training alongside him. He knew the news must have been tough for her to hear, but she somehow remained silent.

  “I can’t order you to do anything,” Sabre said. “But I think you should head back,” he urged.

  “I’m going to switch back to my squad’s frequency now…but I’m not heading back until I take one of these bastards out,” he said with determination.

  Sabre shook his head and considered switching over to Hotel squad’s frequency to argue the matter further, but thought better of it. He had no right or authority to tell Howler what to do. The best he could do was stay with him and do what he could to keep him alive.

  “Bravo squad,” he said, addressing his team. “We are going to stick with the remaining members of Hotel squad until this is over.”

  “Roger that,” Covergirl said, seemingly pleased with the orders.

  She then applied a burst of thrust and pulled alongside another female pilot, Georgia Clarke. “I’m going to cover Peach,” she said.

  “I’m going to switch our frequency over to Hotel squad,” Sabre said. “Let’s communicate and make sure the rest of them get back to Titan alive.”

  He flipped a switch and proceeded to explain Bravo squad’s intentions. Howler then extended his thanks and took off in pursuit of a nearby diamond fighter. Sabre was tight on his tail and looked on as his fellow squad leader fired his cannons and took out the enemy space craft with ease.

  “That was too easy,” Sabre said with amazement.

  As soon as the words left his lips, a pair of purple plasma bolts flashed by his cockpit, narrowly missing the right wing. Unfortunately, Howler wasn’t as lucky. Though the shot struck the rear of his Comet, the impact wasn’t clean. It seemed to be another glancing blow much like the one that had damaged his wing. Sabre could only look on as the ion afterburner on Howler’s engine began to flicker.

  “I’m hit,” he said, sounding remarkably calm.

  “Yeah…get back to the Titan right now!” Sabre replied, unable to match his calmness.

  “Alright,” he said, defeated. “I’ll limp back…look after my squad.”

  “I’m looking after you, first,” Sabre protested. “Once you’re safely on board, I’ll get back in the fight.”

  “No!” Howler said, a little louder than
he expected. “I’ll make it back. Stay with the squads.”

  “This isn’t up for debate,” Sabre continued to argue.

  Howler pounded his fist on the control panel next to him in frustration. He wanted to continue arguing, but he was fully aware that no one had ever won an argument with Christian Smith. He returned his attention back to the control stick and steered the injured craft toward the launch bay of the fleeing Titan. The large ship had swooped in low under the badly damaged Pinnacle and was making its way toward the asteroid field for cover.

  Howler attempted to give his Comet more throttle since at his current pace, he’d never catch the ship. He felt the engine lurch and cough as it struggled to comply. It made a sickening grinding noise and seemed unable to accelerate.

  “What’s the problem?” Sabre asked as he noticed the damaged craft struggle to keep up.

  “The engine…it’s gone,” Howler grumbled. “I told you, get back to the squad. I’ll keep trying to catch up.”

  “Cut the engine,” Sabre said, ignoring his plea.

  “What? Why?” Howler asked.

  “Just do it!”

  As Howler flipped the switch that cut the power to his ion engine, he glanced upward and noticed one of the diamond-shaped Kaloian fighters bearing down over him.

  “Sabre!” Howler shouted.

  “I see it!”

  Without another word, Sabre moved in on the rear of Howler’s Comet. He pushed the blunt nose of his own craft hard into the exhaust cone of Howler’s. Though the contact was much harder than he’d wanted it to be, once he’d planted the nose, Sabre then throttled up his own engine. The two Comets darted forward just as the diving diamond fighter fired off a couple of plasma bolts.

  Howler was relieved, but didn’t have an opportunity to reflect. He had no idea that Sabre was planning such a bold maneuver to get him caught up with the Titan and it took all the skill he could muster to keep his own ship steady and pointed the right direction.

  “Just keep her straight,” Sabre said as they closed in on the Titan. “When I get you close I’m going to pull back…you fire your engine and apply full thrust to get in that bay.”

  “Alright, just get back to the squads,” Howler snapped back. “This was foolish, Christian.”

  Sabre smirked as he became satisfied that he’d gotten Howler close enough. “No need to thank me, Harlan,” he said as he pulled away and then sped back toward the fight.

  ***

  When Banshee entered the chaotic dogfight, she immediately engaged a diamond fighter she spotted pursuing a Foxtrot squad pilot, evidenced by the gold stripes on the crafts wings. She was unable to tell exactly who the pilot was, but whomever they were, their skill level was one of the best she’d ever seen. The pursuing Kaloian repeatedly fired plasma bolts at the Foxtrot Comet, and the skilled pilot continuously responded with numerous barrel rolls before finally making a Split S maneuver.

  Banshee took this to mean that the Comet pilot noticed her approach and he or she was seemingly baiting the pursuing Kaloian into a trap by abruptly turning back into her direction. The Comet streaked by her and as the unsuspecting diamond fighter approached, Banshee pulled the trigger on the stick and unleashed a barrage of lead into the enemy craft. Both wings tore off the Kaloian ship at almost the same time and the disabled vehicle spiraled wildly downward toward the infinite blackness below it.

  “Thanks!” the Foxtrot pilot said—he’d apparently flipped over to Echo frequency. “Who just saved my ass?”

  “Merissa Voight,” she answered.

  “Banshee!” the pilot replied, obviously familiar with her. “I know all about you! I’m Nathan Carmichael.”

  “Moon Dog,” Banshee replied as she pulled on the stick to re-enter the battle. “I’ve heard of you too,” she quipped. “Let’s kiss each other’s ass later, right now we need to get back in the fight!”

  “Roger that,” Moon Dog replied, and rolled over to chase after her.

  ***

  “I need a report!” Captain Hightower’s voice thundered across the bridge.

  “The Pinnacle seems incapacitated for the moment,” Colonel Madigan replied. “It seems the two of the smaller ships are badly damaged, though the other two are still in reasonably good shape. All of them are currently unable to fire their weapons. It looks like your plan worked Harry,” he added thoughtfully.

  “Yeah, but I never dreamed they’d have this many fighters tucked away,” the Captain replied somberly. “How many of ours have we lost?”

  “Two,” Madigan replied with a regretful sigh.

  Hightower closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “Call our birds back…let’s not add to that number.” He then glanced over at Rowena Walker. Her forehead glistened from the illumination the numerous monitors and controls in front of her produced. She’d apparently been sweating profusely. “Are you alright, Rowena?”

  She looked over at him, her mouth was a straight line and her brown eyes seemed darker than usual behind her glasses. “Yessir,” she said nervously.

  “Do you have a safe course charted through this asteroid field yet?” Hightower asked.

  She nodded. “Awaiting your command sir,” she said as she moved her hand toward the lightspeed control.

  “Merrill, as soon as the last Comet is back on board, give the order directly to Rowena to engage lightspeed.”

  Madigan nodded and pulled the phone to his ear to call the launch bay.

  ***

  Commander Roger Stellick and Alpha squad had been in the launch bay for a mere five minutes when he received the command to call the Comets back. He’d been given stern instructions to make sure every surviving fighter returned to the Titan before he reported to the bridge that all had been accounted for. As the fighters returned one by one, he checked the pilot names off on a checklist. He instructed Cowboy (Gentry McNevin) to do the same on another checklist to ensure that no one was missed. Regretfully, before the first fighter returned, he had already checked two names off in addition to those of his own squad when he became aware of the deaths of Cyclops (Cooper Jenkins) and Ruffles (Peyton Kelly).

  Howler had somehow made it back onto the Titan, though Roger had a hard time understanding how he’d managed to do it. The right wing was almost completely torn loose, and the engine was barely sputtering when he came hard onto the metal landing deck. Shortly after he’d exited his Comet, the others began pouring in, many with significant damage. As Roger and Cowboy continued to check off names, Howler and Peach (Georgia Clarke) ran up to him. They both looked distraught. When Roger locked eyes with Howler’s, the Hotel squad leader’s eyes began to well up.

  “Ben Foster won’t be returning either,” he muttered. “Peach just told me he was shot down too.”

  Roger put a firm hand on Howler’s shoulder. “Get to the infirmary and let them look you over,” he said.

  “I’m fine,” Howler grumbled, fighting back tears.

  “Well that Comet you rode in on looks like hell,” Roger countered. “And that was a hard landing you made…go get checked out. That’s an order.”

  Howler appeared to clench his jaw, but he stood straight and offered a salute before heading for the infirmary. Sadly, Roger checked the box next to Ben “Bones” Foster’s name.

  ***

  Colonel Madigan slammed the phone down and turned toward Rowena Walker. “Engage lightspeed!” In mere seconds, the SC Titan zipped way and seemed to simply vanish. Almost immediately after it was gone, a small shuttle launched off the surface of one of the nearby asteroids. The space craft was boxy in shape with a slanted nose. It was gray in color and blended in nicely with the hue of the asteroid on which it had been parked. The occupant of the mysterious shuttle watched in awe as a foreign ship had somehow engaged in battle with four Supreme Regency Vindicator ships and one Star Voyager battleship—and then miraculously beaten them! Without hesitation, the small shuttle darted away at lightspeed in chase of the foreign ship.

  Chapter 17


  Captain Malcolm Steiger did not like to refer to what had happened to his ship, the Pinnacle, as a defeat. In his mind, a defeat meant that one must surrender or be destroyed. He had done neither. Alas, he was also very cognizant of the fact that Potentate Romulus Shade would have a very different take on the events that unfolded soon after he’d led the Earthlings through the H.T.G. and into the Vega solar system.

  The Pinnacle was towed into the Kalo orbit where it would spend the next week obtaining the necessary repairs to make it worthy of space flight and battle once again. During that time, Malcolm knew he’d have to spend almost all of it convincing the potentate that what had happened was a terrible mistake that he’d make sure would never happen again. He’d hitched a ride on a shuttle down to the Kaloian capital city of Clona and now found himself gazing upward at the tall gemstone encrusted steps that led to the entry of Potentate Shade’s palace.

  The palace was a marvel, not just on Kalo, but throughout the entire galaxy. It was rectangular, with large turrets on each corner. Atop each turret, tall cone-shaped roofs extended upward to a point and beyond that, a steeple with the Kaloian symbol—a diamond with an ‘X’ in the center—reached ever higher toward the sky. The four-story structure was built with bricks of pure silver, all of which had been mined from the Kalo moon, Japra. The light that shone brightly from the sun, Vega, gleamed a piercing reflection of blinding light off the metallic bricks. In the middle of the day, it was nearly impossible to approach the palace without some sort of protection for one’s eyes. Malcolm was forced to squint as he moved closer and as he did so, he felt the nagging pain behind his bandaged forehead. The injury he’d received when the Pinnacle’s bridge narrowly escaped disaster was minor, but still required stitches.

  Each story of the palace was well equipped with a generous and beautiful array of windows. Every other window contained a stained-glass painting that depicted major events throughout the history of the planet. Most of the events illustrated were of conquered planets and enslaved peoples throughout the galaxy. Due to the reflective nature of the palace’s bricks, the interior of the structure was naturally cool, so much so that the potentate and all of his security and staff could always be found adorned in heavy robes of various colors. Each color depicted the individual’s role in the palace. For instance, black was reserved for the palace guards. White was for the various politicians and advisors to the potentate, and red was reserved only for Romulus Shade himself.