by Edward Brody
Walter St. James had to be involved somehow, and in all likelihood, he was responsible.
Tamor had a dilemma on his hands and had very little time to decide what to do. He wasn’t anticipating a space battle, but allowing the other ship to land would add too many variables to the situation, and he wasn’t sure if he could keep track of both parties on the ground. He pressed hard on his thrusters to send his ship propelling quickly through space towards the rebel craft. He needed to neutralize the Zatyr before it could land.
Scraggs was flying the Zatyr while everyone else was sitting in the main wing discussing things that could possibly go wrong with their plans when the first shot hit the Zatyr’s shields, causing the whole ship to rock violently and alarms to ring out throughout the entire ship.
Mich literally fell out of his chair from the force of the shot, and the warning alerts were so loud that he put his hands over his ears. “What the hell was that?!” he asked loudly.
Walter quickly found his equilibrium and rushed towards the command deck. “Someone is attacking us!”
“Snake said that the Nerrian military pulled out!” Tristyn wailed
“Yeah, well apparently he was wrong!”
When Walter made it to the command deck, Scraggs moved over to the co-pilot’s chair, and Walter took command. Everyone else came rushing behind him, all trying to get a view of what was going on.
“Our shields managed to absorb the blow, but it was a direct hit. We won’t be able to take many more of those kind of shots,” Scraggs stressed.
Walter pulled the Zatyr’s controls hard, sending the starship flank left at full speed, and the standing group had to hold on tightly to maintain their balance. He could see in his monitors he was being perused by a single Nerrian ship, and it was closing the gap between them fast. “That’s not a fighter ship,” Walter said, confusion in his words. “It’s a Nerrian ship alright, but looks more like a scouting unit with basic armaments.” Walter pulled on the controls again, sending the Zatyr in various directions in an effort to disengage their pursuer, but the enemy ship maintained a position hot on their trail.
“Well, whoever’s piloting it sure knows how to fly,” Earl pointed out.
Blaster shots whizzed past the Zatyr as Walter dipped and dodged, unable to lose the other craft, and then another shot landed, rattling the ship again.
“I can’t shake him…” Walter shouted. Sweat was already starting to form on his brow.
Tamor was getting closer and closer to the Zatry and was landing some of his standard blaster fire as he tailed the rebel ship. His thumb rested heavy on the missile release button, nearly in position to let one go and finish the job. The ship he was flying, however, was designed for reconnaissance, so it was only equipped with two missiles total, giving him very little room for error.
He needed to make sure to take the perfect shot.
The Zatyr dipped downwards hard, but Tamor stayed right on their trail. There was a reason why he was considered one of the best pilots in the galaxy, and simple evasion moves proved to be little challenge for him to match. He was soon directly behind them with his missiles targeted right at the hull of the Zatyr, but before he pressed the tiny red button on his control, his ship pitched violently, rocked by heavy blaster fire.
The impact of the blast rattled Tamor for a moment, but when he regained his bearings, he saw he was now being targeted by another ship.
“Woohoo!” Stryker wailed through his mic to the Zatyr. “That shook him pretty hard. You guys can thank me later.”
Stryker’s ship was rushing towards Tamor, and Tamor could see the Zatyr reversing direction and coming back towards him at another angle. He had quickly changed from the hunter to being the hunted. He pressed forward on his controls and accelerated to maximum speed. His ship was faster than the other two, which seemed to be his only real advantage; the two opposing ships were bigger, and the new arrival had large blasters.
Tamor used his speed to his advantage to create some distance while dodging blaster fire from the two other ships. There was no place for him to hide, but he was sure that he could outrun and outmaneuver them unless they landed a lucky shot.
When he had enough distance between the other crafts, he pulled into a 360 and hurdled headfirst towards the larger of the two ships, using all of his flying skills to dodge the mass of fire that was directed at him.
“What’s this guy think he’s doing?” Scraggs questioned as the small ship rushed at Stryker.
“Looks like he’s not backing down,” Walter mumbled.
When Tamor was just close enough to ensure a direct hit, and bordering a dangerous position between the two enemies, he unleashed a missile and pulled back on his thrusters, sending him out of harm’s way.
Stryker saw the missile coming, but there no way for him to maneuver away. Within seconds, a shock rang out through his starship and a large explosion could be seen enveloping the front of his craft.
The impact nearly knocked Stryker unconscious, and he found himself leaning against a far wall when the brightness of the blast subsided and his eyes refocused. He felt a dull ache on his head and when he touched it, he could feel that a trickle of blood was leaking down his face. The lights in his ship were flicking erratically, his ears were ringing, and he could smell smoke in the air.
He picked himself up and rushed back to the controls to assess the situation. His shields had absorbed the bulk of the blow but had been destroyed in the process. Half of his power grid was down, and his weapon system was completely offline. He switched the ship over to the emergency power and immediately a dull hum could be heard through the ship, and the flickering lights stabilized.
“Stryker!” Walter’s voice rang out through his speakers. “Stryker, can you hear me? Are you alive over there?”
“Alive…” Stryker moaned. “Gonna try to land. The bird is on her last legs. I’ve got no shields. Nothing.”
Stryker looked in every direction but could see no sign of their attacker. His thrusters purred as he turned and headed towards Rashada’s atmosphere. He pressed into his thrusters harder, attempting to enter the atmosphere faster than he normally would in an effort to avoid any further contact, but he was a moment too late.
Just when he was about to cross the atmospheric threshold, the smaller ship appeared out of nowhere and landed a series of blaster shots against the back of his hull. His ship was once again rattled, and the lights inside of his cabin shuttered erratically. An urgent malfunction warning popped up on his monitors, and when he pulled back on his thrusters, the ship didn’t respond.
The ship hurdled towards Rashada, and Stryker pressed various different buttons on his control panel in an effort to stop the craft. In a last ditch effort, he flipped the “emergency landing” switch on his ship, which disconnected the fuel tanks and thrusters, and then he strapped himself into his chair, hoping that he could survive the crash.
“Holy shit…” Mich gasped as the crew of the Zatry watched the fire spewing from Stryker’s ship, fuel tanks and thrusters disconnecting.
“We’ll have time to mourn later,” Walter said sharply as he dodged blaster fire from the smaller ship, which had now refocused its attention on them.
“That one little scout just took out a ship five times its size.” Tristyn shook her head in disbelief.
“And if we don’t do something, we’re next,” Scraggs furthered.
“We’ve still got shields,” Walter griped. He looked on his screen and could see the empty missile compartment of other ship. “But I’m pretty sure he’s only fitted for two missiles. If we can dodge that last missile, we might be able to take him in a dog fight.”
“He’s too fast,” Earl said coldly. “We won’t be able to dodge it.”
“You have a better idea?” Walter asked.
Earl look calmly at the monitor and watched as the small ship continued to shoot and close the gap on the Zatry once again. Then he panned his eyes towards his friends and let out a
muffled sigh. “There is one way…” he sputtered. “This ship has an escape pod, right?”
“Yes, but it’s only got two seats, and there’s no way he wouldn’t notice us trying to sneak away,” Scraggs refuted.
“We’re not going to sneak away.” Earl turned to walk towards the cabin. He stopped himself a moment before he was out of hearing distance. “Release the escape lock as soon as he fires that missile.”
“What?!” Tristyn yelled and ran towards him, tugging tightly on his arm. “You can’t do what you’re thinking, Earl.”
Mich was right behind her. “What are you planning to do?”
“He’s going to use the escape pod to absorb the missile…”
“But won’t you–“ Mich began.
“It’s the only way,” Earl droned as he continued his stride down the hall. “If I don’t do this everyone on the ship will die.”
“You don’t know that,” Mich insisted. “We might still have a chance.”
“Fuck chances,” Earl snapped. “And I’d rather die than go back to working in that mine.”
Tristyn continued to protest as Earl walked through a sliding door and opened the hatch of a tiny, round escape pod. Just as Scraggs described, there were two small seats and a rudimentary control stick which allowed passengers to make a final ditch out of an emergency situation.
“I won’t let you go!” Tristyn screamed and slammed her fist into Earl’s back.
Earl quickly flung around and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Stop!” which scared Tristyn into silence. “This is my decision… And you know Dad would do the same thing, but he’s the only one who can lead humanity back to a better place.” Earl placed two strong hands on Tristyn’s shoulders and stared a long moment into her face before pulling her into a tight hug. “I love you Sis’. Take care of the old man. He’s going to need you.”
Tristyn sobbed loudly into his shoulder and buried her fingers in his back before he pulled away. Earl then turned to Mich and put out his hand for a shake. “She’s a good girl. Look after her, will ya?”
Mich grabbed his hand firmly and nodded, but their moment was interrupted when the ship was rocked by another blaster shot. The three stumbled but maintained their footing and Earl yelled at the pair, pointing his finger towards the door. “Get out of here! There’s no more time!”
Tristyn fell to her knees, wailing as Earl stepped into the escape pod, and Mich ran to lift her by the arms, virtually drag her out of the room. When the sliding door closed and locked behind them, Tristyn howled wildly and placed her wet, reddened face into her hands.
“He’s really going to do it?” Scraggs asked when the two finally made it back to the command deck.
Mich nodded. “He’s in the escape pod now.”
Tristyn put her back against the wall behind the cockpit and slid down slowly ‘til she was sitting on the ground. She had finally stopped sobbing, but her eyes revealed the amount of pain she was suffering. Walter’s face was blank, and he didn’t say a word as he continued flying forward, doing his best to focus and avoid getting hit by the ship that was still trailing behind them.
“He’s almost on top of us,” Mich panted as he stared into the monitor.
Scraggs’ eyes were as focused as anyone’s on the screen, watching the blaster fire shoot out of the turrets, but paying close attention to the lone missile. They would only have a matter of seconds to take action once it was released. Suddenly, a tiny poof of steam emanated around the ship’s launcher and Scraggs yelled, “Now!”
Walter’s eyes shifted towards the escape release button, and a lump surfaced to his throat. Even as his finger slammed down on the large, red, circle he wondered if there was another way, if Earl wouldn’t have to die.
Tamor was in perfect position, and when he released his final rocket, he grinned at his success. There was no way for the slower starship to dodge at such a tight distance, so now it was just a matter of watching the proceeding destruction. When the rocket inched out of the launcher, however, a strange thing occurred. The escape hatch of the larger ship sprang open, and a small, piloted pod came bolting out, heading at maximum speed towards the missile.
His eyes widened as he watched the small vehicle slam into the missile, causing it to detonate before it hit its intended target and creating a bright explosion that produced a temporary blindness through his window. The few seconds he couldn’t see seemed like an eternity, and when his sight returned, he noticed that the ship had regained some distance and was turning around to fight.
He cursed under his breath at his luck. He hadn’t anticipated a suicide run, and his blaster fire had thus far proved ineffective against the Zatyr’s shields. The only chance he could win toe-to-toe was by wearing the shields down slowly and avoiding direct fire.
The two ships fired at each other simultaneously, and the Zatyr landed a better shot against the side of Tamor’s craft, causing it to lose control and spin erratically.
So much for avoiding direct fire, Tamor thought.
Tamor struggled to regain control of his ship as the warning signals popped up on his screen, signaling the first signs of real damage. As he pulled on his control stick and the spinning slowly subsided, he looked up and noticed the Zatyr was missing a large, square chunk of its underside hull, a spot that’s usually heavily protected. He wasn’t certain, but it looked like part of the ship’s shields had been removed for some reason.
He pulled on his thrusters, and the ship lurched forward slowly. Something had damaged his mobility, and his acceleration was 1/10th of normal. He slammed his fist on the control panel and turned so that his blasters were aimed at the missing shield and fired a far, last chance prayer at the larger ship.
Inside the the Zatyr, everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the small attacker had been sent spinning away by their blaster fire, but that relief was short lived with a loud explosion and array of sparks came shooting from up beneath them. Alarms wailed and lights flickered as a small fire broke out in the far of the room.
Scraggs jumped out of the co-pilot’s chair and cursed. “He hit us where we yanked off our shields the other day.” He ran for the fire extinguisher and began trying to control the flame.
“All shields have lost power!” Walter yelled, examining the level of damage on his monitors. “But he’s moving much slower now. I think we can get away.”
Walter turned the ship towards Rashada and kicked the thrusters into high gear. The other ship continued to fire from a distance, but they were quickly widening the gap. Soon they were entering the fragment planet’s atmosphere, leaving the smaller ship firing misguided shots as they pulled away.
Their problems were far from over when the Rashada mines came into view far below them. Walter could see the wreckage from Stryker’s starship, and sparks continued to shoot out from the floor of the Zatyr.
Walter activated the landing gear, but a malfunction warning appeared on the screen, and although he was able to slow the thrusters, he couldn’t disengage them all the way. “Everyone hold on tight. We’re going to land fast and hard!”
Mich grabbed on to Tristyn, who was still sitting on the floor, trying only halfheartedly to avoid the sparks and chaos around her, while everyone braced for impact. The ship wailed as it hurried towards the ground, and when it finally touched down, it burrowed across the ground, causing a loud roar outside and whipping the passengers around like rag dolls.
Equipment was shattered, lights burst, and everything went dark.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mich coughed violently at the taste of filth in his mouth. Dirt had funneled up into the Zatyr through a large tear that was created during the crash. He was surrounded by darkness, save for the single beam of sunlight that was channeling through a crack between the Zatyr’s door. Inside of the cabin, the sound of hissing and the smell of fuel was making him nauseous. He covered his mouth with his hands, trying his best not to inhale the dust floating in the air, and navigated to the door, trippi
ng over random objects every few steps of the way.
When he arrived at the door, he pushed a few times but it didn’t budge. Though it was practically broken off of its hinges, the metal was bent severely causing it to be locked in place.
“Tristyn? Mich?” Walter’s voice rang out shakily.
“I’m here, Walter,” Mich yelled. “Give me a minute.”
He stood back a few feet and kicked, but still received the same results. Then, he leaned back and lunged forward, putting all his weight into the door. The door popped out of the frame, but Mich went flying with it. Thankfully, it was only a couple feet to the ground.
Mich’s picked himself up and allowed his eyes to adjust to the sunlight. Stryker’s wreck was a few hundred meters away, and The Zatry was mostly destroyed. There was smoke running out of the front of the ship–reminded him of a car that was about to explode if he had still been back on earth–and coupled with the fact that he could smell fuel, he knew that he should get the others out as fast as possible.
He climbed back in the Zatyr, now receiving ample light from the missing door, and could see both Tristyn and Scraggs laying side-by-side unconscious. He lifted them, one at a time, and brought them outside while yelling across the ship to Walter, assuring him that he would be back to get him as soon as possible.
Walter was conscious when Mich found him, but blood was dripping from his brow, and his leg was trapped under a piece of equipment.
“Are you okay?” Mich asked as he tried to lift the large metal object from off of him. “Hang in there…”
“Not sure,” Walter moaned. “It’s tearing into me.”
Mich grunted as he strained to lift the metal, but eventually had it high enough that Walter’s leg was free. After Walter scurried out from the trap, Mich let the object fall back down with a heavy clang.
“Yep, broken,” Walter confirmed as he clasped right below his knee.
Mich grabbed Walter’s arm and lifted him up, then threw his arms around his shoulder to usher him outside. He helped Walter get a safe enough distance from the wreckage, then moved Tristyn and Scraggs out of the danger zone as well.