Derelict_Destruction

by Paul E. Cooley

  “Be there in ten,” Roger said, but General Hightower had already disconnected.

  Chapter 2

  Each base of operations on the Titan colony was comprised of numerous domes—enormous domes that were temperature controlled and also sourced the precious oxygen needed for human survival. Human beings had the ability to venture outside of the domes without the need for a pressurized suit, however, the air was unbreathable and dense clothing would be necessary to combat the extreme cold. Each of the domes on Titan’s surface were connected by various tubes, and within some of the tubes a railway system provided quick transportation when necessary.

  Many scoffed at the idea of installing a railway as the primary means of transportation on Titan as it was seen as an antiquated and subpar option. S.A.M.A. researchers were quick to point out that the railway system was astronomically cheaper than other more technological ideas, but even more importantly, it was the most reliable option. There was little room for failure in any capacity on a distant colony near the outer edge of the Earth’s solar system.

  Roger Stellick made use of the railway system to quickly travel from the main military hub of operations to the large hangar where the Comet fighter planes were housed. The moment he stepped off the train, he was greeted by the deck crew chief, Tim Reed. Reed was a large, muscular, African-American man in his early thirties. The man was well respected by crewmen and pilots alike. To Roger, he was also a close friend.

  “About time,” Tim said as he began shoving Roger’s flight suit and bright yellow helmet in his face.

  Roger snatched the suit away and flashed a sideways smirk. “I see you’ve been in my locker,” he replied as he paused to push a leg into the gray suit.

  “I just do what I’m told,” Tim replied very matter-of-factly. “The only man on this rock that truly scares me is General Hightower. If that man tells me to break into your locker, grab your gear, and wait on you to get off the train…well, that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “I see,” Roger said as he pulled the zipper on the front of the flight suit upward. “Did he bother to tell you what’s going on?”

  “Only that you’re going to intercept a U.F.O.,” he replied. “That true?”

  “That’s the rumor,” Roger answered as he reached for the helmet. “How’s my bird…are we ready to go?”

  “I’m surprised you’d even ask,” Tim said as he shook his head. “We’ve even punched in the exact coordinates the Discovery station provided on the craft’s current position.”

  Roger paused as he was about to secure the helmet over his head with the chin strap. “It’s still hovering?” he asked. “It hasn’t moved at all?”

  Tim shook his head and shrugged. “Hasn’t moved since it stopped,” he replied.

  “Well that’ll make it easy to find,” Roger said half-heartedly, and he turned toward the hangar. “The general here yet?”

  “Nope,” Tim replied. “He’s on the way…he said for you to get in the Comet and he’ll radio you once you’re out of the atmosphere.”

  Roger jogged into the hangar and was surprised to find many other pilots there suited up and waiting on him.

  “Bout time commander,” a young man said as Roger entered the building. It was Christian Smith, call-sign Sabre. “They’re not allowing us to go with you,” he added gruffly.

  “No need for that right now,” Roger replied as he began to climb the ladder leading into the cockpit of his Comet fighter. “I’m gonna ease over to them and see if they’re looking for a fight—and if they are, well then you’ll get your opportunity.”

  Sabre coughed and ran his fingers through his sandy-blonde hair. “It seems to me that we should be there to back you up in case something goes wrong,” he said.

  Roger eyed him for a moment and could see that his head was covered in perspiration.

  “You feeling alright?” he asked as he began pulling the cockpit straps over his shoulders.

  Sabre wiped the sweat away from his brow with the back of his sleeve. “I’ll be alright,” he said, a bit of annoyance in his tone. “I woke up with a fever, but I’ll be good to go if I’m needed.”

  Tim Reed walked up and began to remove the ladder.

  “Tim, please see to it that Smith here gets checked out by the doc as soon as possible,” he said as he began flipping switches on the console in front of him.

  “I said I’m fine,” Sabre snapped. “Probably just something I ate.”

  “If it were something you ate you’d be in the bathroom right now,” Roger said. He looked at Tim again. “I mean it, he doesn’t go up until he sees the doc.”

  “He won’t,” Tim replied, but he was looking at Sabre.

  Tim Reed’s size made him a difficult man to argue with. Sabre huffed and turned away to make his way toward the infirmary.

  “Anybody else you want to ground before you leave?” Tim asked as he scanned his eyes over the other pilots in the hangar.

  “Nah, not unless there are more that are sick,” Roger quipped as the canopy closed over him. He then signaled for Tim to remove the wheel chocks and in seconds the Comet fighter was rolling.

  Roger guided the large spacecraft toward the nearest launch bay. A massive door rolled upward, and the Comet fighter entered and then came to a smooth stop in front of an even larger door. Roger sat patiently as the door behind him rumbled closed. Once it did, he pushed the radio button located on the yoke.

  “Launch bay is sealed,” he said.

  “Roger that, launch bay is sealed,” a voice crackled back at him. “Opening exterior launch bay door in three, two, one…”

  The large door in front of him cracked open in the center and then both sides slowly swung open. Roger had complained for quite some time that he felt the doors opened much too slowly and that something needed to be done to speed it up. So far, his complaints had seemed to fall on deaf ears.

  Once the door had fully opened, Roger again lurched the Comet fighter forward and onto the long stretch of runway before him. Bright blue lights zipped along both sides of the concrete path and it was a noticeable contrast against the yellowed soil of Titan’s crust. Roger glanced to his left and through the thick and hazy atmosphere he could see the ominous view of Saturn over the horizon—or at least most of it.

  With his spacecraft finally clear of the hangar, Roger gave the fighter throttle and within seconds the Comet was airborne. He rocketed toward the looming planet that he’d peered at before he’d left the surface of Titan. Somewhere just off the rings of Saturn, a mysterious alien space craft was hovering in place for unknown reasons. It would be up to him to try and discover not only why the craft was there, but also if they were going to pose a threat to the colony. Surprisingly, this seemingly dangerous undertaking had not rattled him. Roger was as cool as a cucumber and extremely focused. The Comet fighter was the most advanced military spacecraft that had ever been developed and it was a big reason why he felt as comfortable as he was.

  The Comet was fitted with twin laser cannons—one on each side of the nose—and an electrical ion drive for powerful propulsion. The spacecraft was twelve meters in length with a wingspan of 23 meters. It was fitted with a titanium skin painted white in color trimmed with black. On average, the Comet fighter weighed over 40,000 pounds, depending mostly on its payload. The Comet was capable of carrying a nuclear warhead and though he hadn’t asked, Roger was almost certain he was carrying one into space now. Suddenly, the radio crackled to life.

  “Commander Stellick, this is General Hightower, over.”

  “I hear you general,” Roger replied. He glanced at one of the digital readouts on the console in front of him. “I’ve got an E.T.A. of eight minutes before I rendezvous with the U.F.O.”

  “Very good,” Hightower said. “Now I’ll make this quick. You’ve got a warhead behind you and if this thing goes haywire, your orders are to use it.”

  Roger allowed himself to smile as he considered the general’s timing since he’d just been
thinking about the possibility that he was carrying a warhead. “Roger that,” he answered. “How do I need to engage the target?”

  “You do it by the book,” Hightower responded quickly. “You approach them head on and once in range, try to contact them by radio.”

  “So, you’re assuming they speak English?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “No, but it’s what the protocol requires you to do—as I said, we’re doing this by the book.”

  “Alright, alright,” Roger replied. “And if they don’t respond?”

  “Then you turn on all your landing lights and we’ll wait to see if they respond in kind,” Hightower explained. “Keep in mind that while you’re doing all of that, we’re going to be monitoring the airwaves down here. I’ve got a language expert right here beside me and if we hear any chatter from that ship we’ll immediately work to see if we can make any sense at all in regard to what they’re saying.”

  Roger huffed. “That doesn’t sound real promising, sir.”

  “Well it’s a start, and for now, it’s all we’ve got.”

  “10-4,” Roger replied. There were a million other questions that he wanted to ask but he refrained from doing so. He trusted General Harry Hightower with his life and at the present time, he could not remember a moment where his faith in the man had been tested so heavily. Whatever bad scenarios Roger could think of—and he’d already thought of several—he knew Hightower had thought of them too and had a contingency plan to address them.

  As he piloted the Comet fighter within several hundred miles of the outer edge of Saturn’s rings, a glint of sunlight reflected brightly off the metallic shell covering the mysterious spacecraft ahead of him. The ship was large—much larger than he’d anticipated it would be. There had been no time for him to get a visual of the ship before he’d left Titan, and as he scrambled to intercept it, it seemed the sense of urgency was not necessary.

  For whatever reason, the craft remained in a stationary position and seemed unconcerned with his approach. Roger knew that, for better or worse, he was severely outmanned and outgunned. It was S.A.M.A.’s belief that it was a necessary stance to make it clear that the humans were peaceful. This moment was something Roger Stellick had been training for since he’d become the captain of the Titan squadron seven years ago. His unwavering commitment and diligence to his job had effectively destroyed his marriage and had put a strain on his relationship with his teenage daughter, Samantha. This was his moment to make it all worth it.

  “Commander Stellick, provide an update please,” General Hightower said suddenly, shattering Roger’s thoughts.

  He glanced at the console and said, “I’m only a couple of hundred miles away. The ship is very large and covered in shiny metal…so shiny that the reflection of the sun is pretty substantial.”

  “Has the ship moved?”

  “That’s a negative,” Roger answered. “The craft is still stationary and appears to be all metal…I don’t even see a window.”

  Roger reversed thrusters and brought the Comet to a slow approach. “I’m going to attempt to radio them now,” he said as he flipped a switch.

  “Unidentified space craft,” he began, his voice strong and direct. “This is Commander Roger Stellick, a pilot with the Space and Aeronautics Military Alliance of planet Earth. I want to make it very clear that we are a people of peace and wish you absolutely no harm.”

  Roger released the mic and awaited some sort of response. The silence was long and unsettling.

  “Please acknowledge,” he urged.

  The silence continued and just as Roger was about to turn on his landing lights, the radio suddenly crackled to life.

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