by C. G. Mosley
Hightower nodded. “There is a very good possibility of that, yes,” he admitted. “But if we are going to get home, this is what will have to happen.”
Roger bit his lip and leaned back in his chair. “Captain, I don’t understand why we need to get involved with freeing a prisoner. Why can’t we just acquire the star chart and get out of there?”
“Because your captain made a promise,” Drago growled.
Roger stared at the Bothian and did his best to give him the impression that he was unfazed by the alien’s overbearing demeanor. “I understand that,” he snapped. “But why?”
“Because acquiring the star chart is not enough,” Hightower said. “Once we get it we will have no idea how to read it and we will also be unable to understand any instructions we find on how to operate the hyperspace gate. We return Ralu to President Dala, she will be more than willing to assist us with whatever we need.”
Drago eyed the captain suspiciously but said nothing.
“Okay,” Madigan said, seemingly ready to accept the difficult situation and move forward. “How do we find the Polaris starship?”
“Amus is in contact with the Federation and they’ve got all of their operatives looking for it,” Hightower explained. “When they find it, they will radio his shuttle and let him know. At that point, we will need to strike fast before we lose it again.”
“Alright, so we find it,” Roger said. “Then what? How do we get on it?”
“Amus is a spy for the Federation. He’s got several different Supreme Regency uniforms to choose from—although they’re only in his size. This will mean the men that go on board will have to be his same build.” The captain paused and glanced at Roger.
The commander sighed. “I guess that means me,” he said, realizing he and Amus were the same height.
Hightower nodded. “Yes, and the Polaris starship is the same class as the Pinnacle…the very ship you boarded. No one else here is as familiar with the inside of that ship as you,” he explained, then paused. “And I’m roughly the same build as Amus too,” he said after a moment.
Colonel Madigan slapped the table and turned toward his friend and captain. “Harry, absolutely not. Now I went along with your ploy to go and meet with the Federation president…but that was only because I’d put my faith and trust in Amus. This is far different. There is no doubt that you’re stepping into the lion’s den and as executive officer I have to insist that—”
“That’s enough Merrill,” Hightower said. He reached over and patted his old friend on the back. “I’m the captain and it’s ultimately my responsibility to get everyone home. I’m going to do what is required to make that happen, no matter the risk.”
Madigan stared into the captain’s eyes and shook his head. It was blatantly obvious that he was holding back and wanted to say much more. Hightower could see it too but chose not to acknowledge it.
“I’ll be boarding the ship too,” Drago said suddenly.
Everyone in the room looked over at him.
“How?” Roger asked. “You’re much too large to fit into anything that Amus could wear.”
“True,” the Bothian agreed. “I’ll have to kill a fat Kaloian once we get on board the Polaris. Many of their guards wear helmets. I’d have to kill one of them, so I may conceal my face.”
Roger exhaled deeply through his nose and laughed. “Though it’s true about the guards and their helmets,” he began. “Drago, no offense but I don’t see your head fitting into any of those helmets no matter how fat the guard may be.”
Drago bared his teeth and pounded his fist on the table. “That will be my problem to overcome,” he growled. “You will need me as you Earthlings are much too puny and weak to fight off the Kaloians.”
Roger glanced over at the captain and scratched at the side of his head.
“Drago is very…opinionated,” Hightower said with a smirk. “His being involved in this operation is non-negotiable.”
Roger rolled his eyes. “Okay, so how do we get on board undetected?”
The captain sighed. “I’m still trying to figure that part out,” he admitted.
“I have an idea,” Drago said with a sneer.
There were more sighs.
“Let’s hear it,” Colonel Madigan urged.
Drago stood from his stool. “You need to send some of those fighters of yours to attack the ship…it’ll create a diversion.”
Hightower cleared his throat and ran a hand over his head. “Please elaborate,” he said.
“The Voyager star ship has a lot of scanning equipment outside its hull, however almost none of it is used or paid attention to when under attack,” he explained.
“That’s true,” Roger chimed in. “Captain Steiger told me that Kaloians don’t take chances and are more dependent on their crewmembers monitoring the surroundings of the ship from the observatories located on the bottom and top of the ship.”
“Exactly,” Drago said. “But don’t interrupt me again.”
Roger’s jaw dropped open and as he prepared to express his displeasure, Hightower gestured for him to remain silent.
“As I was saying,” Drago continued. “During a combat scenario, all the attention—both from the ship scanners, and the observing crew members—is fully directed on whatever is attacking them. If some of your fighters make a surprise attack, it should give us a window of opportunity to sneak aboard in a small shuttle.”
Hightower looked around the room. “Thoughts?” he asked no one in particular.
“I have to admit,” Madigan said, “it sounds like a legitimate plan.”
Drago’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, it’s legitimate,” he quipped. “Once on board, we find a large, plump Kaloian, and then I get in disguise.”
Roger again rolled his eyes. “Captain, it all sounds feasible. It’s true that I’ve been on board a Voyager starship, but that doesn’t mean I have any idea where to find one of these star charts.”
“That’s where I come in,” Amus said. “I’ve got plenty of intel to guide us.”
“And I assume you know where to find this Ralu character?”
“I do, Commander Stellick,” Amus replied. “If it’s intel you need, I have it—and what I don’t have, I can get.”
“So, it’s settled,” Drago said, happily. He glanced around the room looking for support. “Is it settled?”
“As far as I’m concerned, it is,” Hightower said. He turned to Roger. “Stellick, I want the five best pilots out of all the squads assembled and briefed on what we’re planning. Do what you must to prepare them, but when the moment arrives, I need them sharp and ready to fight.”
Roger nodded. “I’ll handle it,” he said.
“Amus, gather all the intel you can on the Voyager starship—specifically the Polaris if you can get it,” Hightower said as he rose from his chair. “Obviously we are pressed for time and our moment to strike will be unpredictable. Let’s use the time we have wisely and prepare.”
“Agreed,” Drago said. “Now can someone tell me where the drinking establishment is?”
Hightower shook his head and looked to Madigan. “Show him,” he said.
***
“So, did you get plenty of rest like I prescribed?” Dr. Phoebe Holtz asked.
She could tell by looking at him that he probably did not take the medication she’d given him to help him sleep. His eyes were red and outlined with dark circles.
“Some,” Howler replied dryly.
“How much is some?” she asked as she scribbled something onto the pad in her lap.
Howler shrugged. “I don’t know…maybe a couple of four—no five-hour stints.”
Phoebe pulled her glasses off and tossed them onto the counter beside her. “Oh Harlan,” she groaned.
“I know, I know,” he said apologetically. “Doc I want you to know I feel a lot better though.”
“Well feeling better isn’t quite enough,” she replied. “I specifically told you to take the pil
ls and get some rest. All I wanted was forty-eight hours, Harlan.”
“I had to go to the memorial service,” he countered.
“So, did I. And that lasted a grand total of twenty-five minutes,” Phoebe snapped at him.
Howler leaned forward and rested his face into the palms of his hands. “I’m sorry, doc,” he said.
“Well I am too,” she replied. “I’m sorry because I cannot clear you to return to duty. At least not yet.”
“What?” he asked, his voice rising. “Because I didn’t sleep as much as you wanted me to?”
“Your life is not worth the gamble, and quite frankly losing another Comet is not worth it either,” she said firmly.
“Doc…I’m fine, really,” he said, and his eyes pleaded with her to clear him.
“I’ve made my decision,” she said. “Emotionally, you’re not where you need to be, and I will not endanger your life and the lives of your fellow pilots. We’ll meet back here again in another forty-eight hours. This time try taking the pills and getting some rest.”
Howler stared at her and considered begging. Ultimately, he stood up, glaring at her before storming out.
***
When Roger returned to his office, he spent a great deal of time looking down his roster of pilots. Captain Hightower demanded the best he had to offer, and he whole-heartedly felt the same way. If they were going to successfully complete the mission, everyone involved would have to be on the top of their game. The five pilots would come under serious duress from not only the Polaris’ cannons, but possibly from a barrage of diamond fighters as well. There was one name on the list that was a no-brainer. Merissa Voight showed incredible skill and bravery during battle. However, she was brash, and he’d seen that before in other pilots that had ended up dead. If he could somehow get her to reign that in, she’d be nearly unbeatable.
Christian Smith would be another easy choice. In his opinion, Sabre was second only to Banshee in sheer talent. One thing that he had that she didn’t, was experience. Unfortunately, recent events between he and Harlan Wolfe seemed to have affected his confidence. Nevertheless, Roger felt certain that Sabre would be able to rise to the occasion. The third choice would have to be Gentry McNevin, a member of his own Alpha squad. Gentry, call-sign Cowboy, reminded Roger a lot of himself when he was younger. The pilot was smart and calculated with every decision he made while in the cockpit.
With three relatively easy choices made, Roger still had two more pilots to assign and the decisions got far harder. In his mind, the rest of the pilots were for the most part mirror images of each other—at least in regard to talent. One pilot that did slightly outshine the others was Harlan Wolfe. Howler, much like Sabre, had a wealth of experience that would serve him well in just this sort of mission. Roger knew there was a conflict going on between the two men but believed when it came to the mission, and their execution of it, it would be a non-issue. There was also the matter of Howler’s medical clearance. That would depend on Dr. Phoebe Holtz.
He snatched up the phone and pressed a button to contact the infirmary in hopes she would be there. She picked up almost immediately.
“Wow, that was quick,” he said. “Do you have a minute?”
“Yes,” she replied. “As a matter of fact, I was just getting ready to call you.”
“Alright, what’s up?”
“It’s about Harlan,” she said.
Roger chuckled. “That’s amazing…I was calling you about him. Is he clear?”
There was a pause and then she said, “I’m afraid not.”
Roger was taken aback. It was not the answer he expected. “Oh,” he said. “Why not?”
“I think he’s still struggling…emotionally,” she answered.
“Okay…what’s he saying?”
“Oh, he’s saying he’s just fine,” she replied with a chuckle. “But it’s clear to me that he’s not. He seems distant and emotionally drained.”
Roger leaned forward and again looked down his list. “How is he physically?”
“Fine,” she answered. “But he’s exhausted. He needs rest.”
“So, if he was rested up, you’d clear him?” he asked hopefully.
Phoebe sighed. “Roger, don’t do this. You’re the one that told me not to clear him if he wasn’t ready.”
Roger smiled, despite himself. “I’m not doing anything,” he said. “I just asked a question.”
“Then the answer is no, I would not,” she replied. “Not until his emotional state is in a better place.”
“Phoebe, I think that the best way to get him out of this dark place he’s in is to get him back in a Comet,” Roger said, pleading his case. “Pilots are like that. Moping around this ship isn’t doing him any good, but you get him back in the air…I’m telling you, he’ll be back to his old self in no time.”
“You’re making a lot of assumptions,” she quipped.
“Yes, based off my experience as a pilot myself,” he countered. “If he wasn’t ready physically…or if there was something neurological going on…that would be different.”
There was a long awkward pause before she finally replied.
“If you want to send him up and endanger the lives of your other pilots, then that’s your call,” she huffed.
“You know I can’t send him up unless you sign off on it,” Roger countered.
“So then if he kills himself or something else, it’ll be pinned on me. Is that what you want?”
“No, we’ll make it formal. I’ll type up a letter encouraging you to clear him. It’ll have my signature on it and you hang on to it in case something happens—but nothing will.”
Phoebe wanted to argue the matter further but knew ultimately it would do no good. Roger Stellick could be very persuasive and had a knack for being stubborn.
“Fine,” she said finally. “But I’m not clearing him until I get your letter.”
“You’ll have it in a couple of hours,” Roger replied.
Phoebe sighed again and disconnected. Roger smiled, knowing full well that he hadn’t heard the end of this. Phoebe didn’t like being told what to do and he wondered if anyone else on the ship would’ve been able to persuade her to change her mind. With four pilots chosen, he needed one more.
Again, he looked carefully at each name on the list. Finally, he settled on Arthur Law, call-sign Lawyer. Law was from Delta squad and had the dubious record of being the only pilot to not use a single missile during the battle with the Kaloian starships and fighters. Every one of his kills had been performed using his fighter’s cannons only. It was a testament to the pilot’s accuracy and could make him an important factor in making sure they all got back to the SC Titan in one piece.
With the last name written down, he grabbed the phone again. This time it would be Chief Tim Reed he would be calling. All five Comets would need to be fully loaded and ready to fly at a moment’s notice.
Chapter 26
“So, we’re bait?” Banshee asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Essentially, yes,” Lawyer replied with a chuckle.
They, along with the other three pilots, had just been briefed on the complicated plan to retrieve the star chart off a Supreme Regency star ship.
“Sounds like a suicide mission to me,” Gentry McNevin, call-sign Cowboy, said.
“I have no intentions on dying,” Lawyer snapped back at him. “If you plan on getting shot down then you just go ahead and keeping calling it that.”
Sabre listened to the three pilots bicker, but he kept his eyes on Howler. Harlan Wolfe remained very quiet while Commander Stellick laid out the plan, and once he finished, the pilot immediately made a beeline for the exit without saying a word to anyone. As Sabre watched him disappear around the curvature of the hallway, he felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder.
“How do you feel about him being a part of the mission?”
It was Commander Stellick.
Sabre turned to face him and shrugged. “Not my decision, s
ir,” he answered. “I trust your judgement.”
“I think it’ll do him good to get back in the saddle again,” Roger replied. “But if you’ve got some reservations about it, I’m willing to listen.”
Sabre shook his head. “No sir, I trust your judgement.” He opened his mouth to say more but then thought better of it.
Roger pretended not to notice and instead asked, “Have you and Howler spoken yet?”
Sabre shook his head. “Haven’t really had a chance to,” he replied. “Ever since we passed through that gate, things have happened so fast.”
Roger nodded in agreement. “I understand that, but I’d like for you to try and talk to him before we get the go-ahead on this mission. The sooner the better.”
Sabre put his hands in his pockets and considered what Roger had said. “Is that an order, sir?”
Roger smiled. “No,” he answered. “It’s not.”
There was a moment of awkward silence before Roger finally walked away without another word. As Sabre stood there, still pondering what the commander had suggested, a feminine voice spoke up suddenly behind him.
“You should’ve told him the truth,” Banshee said. She stepped around him, so he could see her.
He shot her a confused look. “And what exactly is the truth you’re referring to?” he asked.
She crossed her arms and leaned her back against the wall. Sabre looked her over. She was roughly six inches shorter than him, but very fit. Her flight suit looked good on her and he considered her very attractive, despite being completely bald. She pursed her plump red lips before she spoke as it seemed she too was looking him over.
“You don’t want Howler flying with us,” she said. “Why didn’t you just tell him that…you’re one of the best pilots on this ship. Stellick would’ve listened to you.”
Sabre chuckled and crossed his own arms. “Sounds like you’re the one that doesn’t want him up there.”
Her eyes widened, and she took in a deep breath. “I don’t,” she admitted matter-of-factly.
“Then why don’t you be the one to say something?” Sabre asked, pointing a finger toward her chest.
Banshee glanced at his finger and casually pushed his hand aside. “Because I’m not the one he asked,” she grumbled. “However, if Stellick had asked me, I’d have the balls to tell him the truth. His head isn’t right and he’s going to get himself—or one of us—killed. It’s going to be dicey enough trying get us all back alive as it is.”
