Star Cruiser Titan

by C. G. Mosley

  “It’s true,” Amus agreed. “Your pilots are quite skilled.”

  Roger swelled with pride. “You’re watching the best of the best.”

  Hightower leaned forward, eyeing the Polaris. “Now is our time,” he said, determined. “We board now.”

  Amus nodded, his black helmet hiding the smile upon his face. With effortless precision he guided the small shuttle down below the heavy fighting, occasionally dodging both bullets and plasma bolts as they advanced. With as much subtlety as one could muster in such a situation, Amus quietly approached the bay opening of the Polaris from down low. As the shuttle entered the ship, they were met with oncoming diamond fighters scrambling to join the fight against the attacking Comets.

  “What are those tiny fighter ships called?” Roger asked, curiously.

  “They are called cutters,” Amus answered. “Very small and agile crafts…but very easy to destroy.”

  “They’re shaped like diamonds,” Roger said. He paused as he considered the ship’s name and then smiled.

  “What?” Hightower asked, noticing his expression.

  Roger shook his head. “Now I won’t be able to refer to them as anything but diamond cutters,” he replied.

  Captain Hightower ignored the jape and returned his attention to the interior of the Polaris. The hangar area was bustling with activity. There were numerous soldiers scampering about adorned in the exact same attire as them. As long as none of them questioned the presence of their ship, it appeared that they’d be able to blend in quite easily.

  “You sure they’re not paying any attention to us?” Roger asked as the shuttle came to a rest.

  “No,” Amus answered as he unstrapped from his seat. “But I doubt it. They’ve basically got two operations going on at once. They’re engaged in battle with your Comet fighters, and they’re also still scanning the surface of Pana for any sign of the resource for their elixir. We are in a shuttle that, as far as they know, belongs to them. We are dressed like them. There does not appear to be any high ranking Supreme Regency officials in the hangar at this time because it is far too dangerous. I think it is safe for us to go, but we must go now.”

  Captain Hightower began to make his way toward the rear of the shuttle where the ramp began to lower. He paused and turned to Drago. “Hang tight here, we’ll bring you back some armor that fits.”

  Drago snarled and seemed frustrated.

  “We stick to the plan,” Roger said, pointing at the large Bothian. “You knew this was part of the plan.”

  “It does not mean that I’m happy about it,” Drago spat. He then crossed his arms and sat in an inconspicuous spot as the ramp finally opened all the way.

  Amus, Hightower, and Roger clambered out and immediately scrambled toward a darkened corner where they could observe their surroundings for a moment.

  “Okay, what now?” Roger asked anxiously.

  Amus shrugged. “I think I would feel much safer if Drago was with us. I think our first order of business should be getting him a uniform.”

  Captain Hightower reached for his sidearm. He felt more comfortable with it in his hand. With his other hand, he pushed a button on the side of a device that was wrapped around his arm. The screen on the device illuminated to reveal a blueprint illustration of the Voyager starship. “I seem to remember seeing what appeared to be a shop…or military exchange, in that direction,” he said, pointing toward the opposite wall of the hangar. “I don’t think it was very far. I’m guessing we may be able to find what we’re looking for there.”

  “That’s a gamble,” Roger said, leaning over to study the blueprint. “I’m not sure it’s a gamble we should take. Maybe we need to look for someone with Drago’s build and—”

  “And what?” Captain Hightower interrupted. “Look around you, Stellick. There are soldiers everywhere. We can’t exactly attack one of them without the rest of them seeing.”

  “The Captain is right,” Amus said. “Attacking one of the soldiers to take their uniform is a larger gamble.”

  Roger huffed, and his shoulders slumped, though he knew what his counterparts said was true. “Okay,” he said. “If we’re going to do it, let’s do it now while the chaos is still going on.”

  At that moment, the entire ship shuddered hard enough that they all nearly lost their footing. Many of the Kaloian soldiers did fall to the metal decking.

  Roger glanced upward. “Our pilots are giving them hell,” he said with a smirk.

  Chapter 30

  Sabre had been unable to finish off Polaris’ radar and weapons guidance systems—at least for the time being. Currently, he was being pursued by three diamond fighters and he was wondering how the other squad members were faring. As he dove at a blistering pace he checked the radar screen and found that, amazingly, the diamond fighters continued to close in. Not surprisingly, the lead craft in pursuit began firing a furious array of plasma bolts toward the diving Comet.

  Sabre grabbed the stick and quickly entered a barrel roll. As the craft turned over numerous times, the purple bolts zipped by, however, one of them skimmed across the bottom of the Comet. The impact jolted the craft slightly, and Sabre feared that it would be enough to upset his smooth trajectory and potentially cause one—or both—of his wings to break away. He was very much aware that any second, another volley of purple plasma would be fired at him, so he prepared to pull a daring maneuver that he’d heard about but had never tried.

  Without further hesitation, Sabre reversed his craft’s ion thrusters while simultaneously pulling back hard on the stick. The Comet’s nose darted upward abruptly, and the ship’s speed decreased so dramatically that Sabre momentarily wondered if his belts would be strong enough to secure him in his seat to prevent him from hurtling through the cockpit glass and into the vacuum of space. Fortunately, the belts did hold, and the unsuspecting Kaloian pilots had to react quickly to keep from crashing into him—and each other. As the diamond fighters streaked by, Sabre immediately released two missiles and then fired his cannon on the ship directly in front of him. Just as he’d planned it, all three ships were disposed of entirely. Sabre then throttled up his thrusters again to rejoin the rest of his squad.

  Meanwhile, Banshee had taken out no less than nine fighters before turning her attention back onto the Polaris’ plasma cannons; Harlan Wolfe’s advice be damned. She knew if she was going to succeed, she’d have to be quick and it would take no less than four well-placed missiles to accomplish the feat.

  “Banshee, what are you doing?”

  It was Lawyer and he sounded genuinely concerned.

  “I’m taking out these plasma cannons…it may be an important factor for the Captain and the others to get off that ship in one piece later,” she said.

  “Banshee, pull back,” Lawyer snapped. “It’s too dangerous, you need someone to watch your six.”

  “So, watch it for me,” she replied.

  “Merissa, don’t be an idiot.” This time it was Howler. “This isn’t a time to be a hero…we are a team.”

  Banshee ignored him. It was apparent that they were all against her, so if she was going to do this, she’d be doing it alone.

  “Guys, the shuttle has made it on board,” Cowboy said suddenly. “I think it’s time for us to come up with an exit strategy.”

  “Copy that,” Lawyer replied. “Guys, let’s keep fighting, but we need to begin distancing ourselves from the Polaris.”

  “I recommend taking the fight to the other side of Pana,” Sabre chimed in. “I just took three of them south of the planet and took them out pretty easily…none of the other ships followed.”

  Banshee listened to the radio traffic but kept her eyes on the prize ahead. Just as she’d experienced with the Pinnacle, the plasma cannons began to illuminate blue, like the pilot light on a gas heater. Without further contemplation, she unleashed her missiles in quick succession. Each of them zipped directly toward their targets, but not before the starboard cannon fired off a ball of plasma.
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  Banshee jerked the stick right to evade the incoming danger, but unfortunately, she was too late. It was not a direct hit, but it was more than enough to rip the portside wing off the Comet fighter. The ship began to roll and spiral in a wild trajectory toward Pana.

  “I’m hit! I’m hit!” Banshee shouted, but strangely her voice was eerily calm.

  “Dammit!” Howler shouted back. “I knew it! I knew this would happen!”

  “Merissa, how bad is it?” Lawyer asked. He sounded panicked.

  “It’s bad,” she answered. “I’m—I’m spiraling toward Pana…trying not…not to black out.”

  “I’ve got a visual on her,” Sabre said. He pointed the nose of his fighter after her and again went into a steep dive to pick up speed. “She’s heading for Pana’s atmosphere.”

  “Stay with her,” Howler said. “Is there anything you can do for her?”

  “No—I’m not gonna make it,” Banshee answered for him. “Pull…pull back.”

  “You gotta try something,” Howler said. “Can you help her get to the ground on Pana?”

  Sabre was gritting his teeth and pursuing the heavily damaged Comet with a high rate of speed, perhaps even faster than he’d gone when the three diamond fighters were pursuing him. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I can’t catch up to her.”

  “Stay after her,” Cowboy said. “I’d love to help, but I’ve got company over here.”

  “Do you need help?” Lawyer asked.

  “I wouldn’t turn it down!”

  “I’m locked onto your position and headed your way,” Lawyer replied.

  Sabre kept the nose of his craft pointed directly after the falling spacecraft ahead of him. “Banshee, you still with me?” he asked.

  No response.

  “Banshee…do you read me?”

  Still no response.

  “She’s gotta be unconscious,” Howler said, somberly. “There’s nothing you can do, Christian.”

  “Pull back,” Lawyer said. “You did your best, but if you keep up that pace you’re gonna lose your own craft.”

  “I’m getting closer,” Sabre argued. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, but he kept it to himself.

  “Christian, it’s over,” Howler pleaded. “You did your best, now pull back.”

  Sabre continued to watch the falling craft, unblinking. At one point, he thought he was closing in, but now it appeared she was getting further away from him. As the craft began to enter the atmosphere of Pana, he finally allowed himself to accept that it was a hopeless endeavor. She was going to crash, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

  “Pulling back,” he said in a voice just above a whisper. “I can’t keep up anymore.”

  “You did all you could,” Lawyer said. “We’ll check for a beacon and see if we can find her when we get out of here.”

  Sabre felt a burning sensation in his eyes and soon realized he was crying. He squeezed his eyes tightly in an effort to shut the water works down. There was still an ongoing fight and his teammates needed his help.

  “I’m on my way back,” he said, renewed determination in his voice.

  “I’m leading them toward the back side of Pana,” Cowboy said. “If they want to keep fighting, they’ll have to do it out of sight of their mother ship.”

  The other three Comets followed his lead and before long, the remaining diamond fighters that pursued were disposed of and the dogfight ceased.

  ***

  “Make sure you walk with purpose,” Captain Hightower said, as the trio marched across the hangar.

  There were still soldiers scrambling about in all directions and no one seemed to give them much attention at all. Polaris appeared to have taken significant damage and Hightower momentarily wondered if the ship would survive the assault. Roger noticed him looking around, as if he expected a huge gash to suddenly open in the ceiling above them, with the vacuum of space in turn pulling them all out to their deaths.

  “I told you they could handle the job,” Roger said.

  Captain Hightower glanced over at him but said nothing. Amus led them to an arched doorway that opened into a long hallway. There were doors on either side with signage, but it was Kaloian and nothing Roger or Hightower could understand. Amus, however, could read it with ease.

  “Right here,” he said, pointing to the first door on their left.

  Roger frowned as he noticed the keypad that would undoubtedly dictate who could go in or out.

  “I hope you know the code,” Roger said, dismayed.

  Amus smiled behind his helmet. “I can handle this,” he said confidently. There were multiple codes he’d gathered from President Dala’s intel and he was certain at least one of them would open the door. By the time he punched in the third code on the list, the door was open, and an expansive warehouse opened before them. There were various bags, helmets, and all sorts of clothing available, so much in fact, it was a bit overwhelming.

  “Okay, I’ll search for a helmet, why don’t you two look for the rest of the uniform,” Captain Hightower suggested.

  Roger nodded, and immediately set out to find a large enough jacket for Drago while Amus searched for pants and boots. After several frantic minutes, Hightower found a helmet.

  “I think this one will work,” he said, holding up the massive black helmet. “You guys have any luck?”

  “No, unfortunately not,” Roger said, obvious frustration in his voice. “All of this stuff is just too small.”

  “We’ve got to keep looking,” Amus said. “We’ll need Drago’s help if we’re going to make it through this.”

  Suddenly, they heard the door slide open and the heavy boots of a soldier enter the room.

  “Who is in here?” a man’s voice called out.

  The three men immediately crouched down behind a crate and Roger readied his hand cannon.

  “We have to dispose of him,” Amus whispered.

  Roger shook his head. “No, we wait for him to leave.”

  “He’s here because he knows we are in here,” Amus said. “He won’t leave until he finds us. We’ve got to get rid of him before he alerts someone else.”

  Roger sighed. “Alright…I’ll handle this.”

  Captain Hightower grabbed his arm. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to incapacitate him,” he replied, holding up the hand cannon.

  “We need to stop him without using that thing if possible,” Hightower said. “The last thing we need is to cause a ruckus that will attract more of them here.”

  Without discussing the matter further Roger darted out from behind the crate and made his way around a rack stocked with helmets. He wanted to surprise the unknown assailant from behind, but as he rounded the corner, he was met with a surprise of his own. The Kaloian soldier was massive. Roger estimated that he stood at a height of nearly seven feet, and probably weighed 275 pounds. There was a plasma pistol in his right hand, but for the moment, he was unaware that Roger was approaching him from behind.

  Roger took a deep breath, returned his weapon to its holster, and charged at the soldier. The large Kaloian turned as he heard footsteps approaching and pointed his weapon. Roger backhanded the pistol from the soldier’s hand and immediately threw a left hook, connecting soundly with the man’s ribs. The pistol flew across the room and clattered across the metal floor. The Kaloian howled in pain from the blow he’d taken to the ribs and responded by immediately throwing a punch of his own. Roger was surprised when he realized his attacker had punched him straight into his face. Though the helmet took most of the shock, the visor that went across his eyes cracked and he felt himself stumbling backwards.

  The soldier seemed amused and laughed. He then reached down, grabbing Roger by his right arm and right leg, lifting him off the floor. Next the solider used his weight to spin his body around like a top. When he felt he’d gotten the momentum he was looking for, he released Roger, sending him crashing through a stack of wooden crates. Hi
s already damaged helmet jarred loose and he felt the air forcibly vacate his lungs. He’d rolled over onto his hands and knees when the soldier trotted over to him, ready to strike his unprotected skull. Roger felt the copper taste of blood in his mouth and as he desperately tried to get a gulp of air, he noticed the hulking Kaloian soldier standing over him. The soldier drew his arm back, but before he could throw a punch, Amus had snuck up behind him and put the barrel of his hand cannon into the Kaloian’s back.

  The soldier stopped dead in his tracks and slowly lowered his arm. “Who are you?” he asked, still sounding as if he were the one in control.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Amus said. “But what matters next is entirely up to you. You can do what we say, or you can die…it doesn’t matter to us.”

  The Kaloian’s shoulders slumped slightly, and it was apparent that he believed what he was told.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked, his deep voice much softer now.

  Roger scrambled to his feet and wiped the blood away from his mouth. Captain Hightower and Amus looked at each other simultaneously.

  “We want you to get undressed,” Amus said very matter-of-factly.

  The soldier paused awkwardly, but then removed his helmet. His head was large and there did not seem to be any sign of a neck. His hair was blonde, and far longer than Roger would’ve guessed. His eyes were blue. He looked utterly confused.

  “Why do you want me to undress?” he asked, his voice raising an octave.

  He was now facing Captain Hightower and Amus. Before they had a chance to respond, Roger grabbed a helmet from one of the busted crates, drew back, and swung it with everything he had. The makeshift weapon connected solidly with the back of the Kaloian’s head and he immediately fell forward, landing on his face.

  “That was…effective,” Amus said, lowering his cannon.

  “Quickly, get his uniform,” Captain Hightower said as he knelt to pull off his boots.

  Once they’d stripped the unconscious soldier of his uniform, Amus shoved it all inside a duffel bag. “I think only one of us should take this to Drago while the other two waits here,” he said, zipping the bag closed.