The Stars, My Destination | Teen Ink

The Stars, My Destination

October 29, 2013
By Crf1096 BRONZE, Smithtown, New York
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Crf1096 BRONZE, Smithtown, New York
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Favorite Quote:
Notice what no one else notices, and you'll know what no one else knows


Author's note: I was inspired to write this piece because simply, it appealed to me. I came up with the idea with a list of other ideas I planned to write about as well. The ending was supposed to be different, it was supposed to be much longer, but I changed it as I was writing to better suit the short story catagory

The author's comments:
this is the whole thing, so enjoy

The Stars, My Destination



Prologue
We pan out on our scene: 2194, the infinite expanse of the stars. A miniscule, insignificant vessel, The USF Titus Andronicus, lies as nothing more than a dot, another light in the vista of stars. The crew of the average sized freighter is alone- for now, at least. Space travel isn’t what it is in Star Trek. It’s empty. No matter how hard you try, you can never fill a void.
Things back on Earth had changed drastically once the new frontier was opened. After a short period of war between several established colonies, Earth finally knew its only period of true peace, brought about by this space faring technology. Looking out into the newfound abyss, feeling a new, overwhelming sense of awe, and finally feeling their insignificance, humanity found its place, and shut up for once. A new era of peace and prosperity had begun as nations worked together to explore the new unknown, to create massive stations, driven by a new curiosity that could never be fulfilled. Mankind went further and further, colonies were formed on distant planets, and mankind spread itself thin across most of the Milky Way. Perhaps this thin layer is what caused the newfound danger.
Out in the unknown, relaying a message could take weeks, and reaching the closest human could take months. Out in the void, you truly were alone. Helpless. And this is exactly why this final frontier is such a deadly place. The land of endless stars is not a welcoming one. You see, no one can govern an infinitesimally large body. Space had become a place of complete lawlessness. And many took advantage of this unique opportunity. And so the pirates reigned. Every 24 hours, one Earth day, countless horrific crimes were committed: murder, theft, rape. For money, sex, power, it didn't matter why. It just matters that it happens. The pirates freely roamed space, terrorizing anyone who dare to traverse it. The land of eternal night is dangerous, and this is where we lay our scene. The government freighter, the USF Titus Andronicus, carries vital supplies for a distant civilian station, still months away. The Titus Andronicus and its escort of 6 Avenger class fighters has no idea of their watchful adversaries, waiting for just the right moment to jump. And they just decided, now was the time.

******************************************************************************
“Commander, how do our systems read? We still in the green?” Captain Alex Clarke was speaking to his second in command, Commander James Zale. The commander glanced down at the array of lights and screens in front of him.
“Systems green across the board, captain. Engines are functioning within normal parameters, and the Stargate drive is running flawlessly. All within textbook specifications, sir.”
“Good.” The captain responded. He let out a sigh. Then, on an unrelated topic, spoke aloud to the bridge crew,
“God, I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep well at all last night.” The bridge crew said nothing in return. He hadn’t expected them to; he just wanted to fill the silence.
“How long until we reach Kappa station?” He asked his lieutenant commander, Thomas Jameson. He very well knew already, but he had hoped for a pleasant surprise. The man at the helm looked down at his control panel before irritably interrogated his commanding officer
“How many times are you going to ask me that? You already asked that 3 times this week, Clarke!” Alex stood up from his chair.
“Hey, watch your tone Jameson! I’m the captain here!” Jameson gave his captain a cold look before returning to his console. He mumbled something under his breath.
“I’m sorry, what was that Commander?”
“Nothing.” He said in a mocking voice. He already did know, of course. 2 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. Clarke shook his head, and sat back down. Out of everyone who could have been chosen for the position, how did he get chosen? How did he even get this job in the first place, with such little respect for his superiors? He sighed. Well, it wouldn’t matter soon anyways, he told himself. This was his last run. With a sense of resignation, he sighed again. He knew that wasn’t true. He had been saying that the last 5 years. This is my last run. How many times had he said that to himself? Too many to count. The pay was just too good, despite the chronic boredom attributed to the job. He was wasting his life. He seen all there was to see out here: endless stars and remote planets. It may be a scientist's dream, but it bored him to death. He had gone into this field straight out of school, thought it would be a nice escape from what he knew. To journey into the stars was a dream come true. For all of a few months. Then reality set in. Looking out at stars for weeks, months, it could bore you to tears, as beautiful as he thought it once was. It just wasn’t fun. And shouldn’t a job be fun? He remembered a quote he heard a long time ago: “If you find a hobby you can turn into a job, you’ll never work a day in your life.” And especially three years ago, after the accident, as he’d come to call it, he wanted out. But what could he do? Where would he go? He thought back to the ship that had changed everything for him, the USF Roanoke. He shivered. He had failed, and he knew it. But he had vowed never to let that happen again, and he intended to keep that promise he made himself.
“Captain?” He was snapped from his thoughts by a slightly panicked, feminine voice.
“Yes Nicole?”
Lt. Nicole Lovurc, the ship’s chief security officer, a woman with long dark hair, was eyeing the radar screen suspiciously.
“Sir, according to this, we’ve got multiple ships incoming.” He froze. He felt his heart rate spike instantly. No, it couldn’t be... He forced himself to calm down. It could be anyone! he reasoned with himself. Don’t jump to conclusions.
“Who are they? Are they carrying any signatures?” By now, the entire bridge crew was waiting for a response.
She shook her head slowly, gravely. Oh, s***! No signature meant they weren't USF, United Star Federation. And that meant pirates.
Lieutenant Commander Jameson suddenly exclaimed
“Damn it, Clarke, I told you not to come this way! Do you see what you’ve gotten us into?”
“What the hell are you talking about Jameson? You helped me plot the course idiot! And why are you looking at me? You’re the God damned pilot!”
“I don’t just fly this ship where I want, I just listen to your crap orders!”
“Yeah? When did that start happening?”
Commander Zale intervened.
“Hey, why don’t the two of you shut the hell up and worry about the pirates on our doorstep instead of worrying about who brought them here, huh?” The room grew quiet for a moment, then he added, “Respectfully, Captain.”
“Of course you’re right, Commander. That’s why I have you here, after all. And I take no offense from your remarks, James, I know you too well for that now.” He said with a chuckle. Jameson stood by his chair silent. Boy, he was a real piece of work. Couldn’t he just lay off a bit?
“Lieutenant, how many are showing on the radar?” Clarke asked.
“I’ve got 10 so far, and they’re still coming up from behind us, sir.” Oh, God, 10? If there had only been a few, they could easily repel them, but 10? Did they even stand a chance? His thoughts flicked back the Roanoke. There had only been 6 ships that had ambushed them then, and he couldn’t even handle that.
“Okay, standard protocol, Lieutenant, red alert. Raise the shields and prepare the defense turrets. Inform Delta team to prepare for combat if necessary.”
“Aye, sir” The bridge suddenly turned a shade of deep crimson red as the alert system activated.
“Jameson, I need you to increase our speed, can you do that? They’re still gaining on us. Maybe we can get lucky and outrun them.”
“Yeah Clarke, I’m not an idiot.” He ignored the sarcastic remark and turned his attention to the security console, where Lovurc was contacting their escort.
“Delta One , this is Lieutenant Lovurc, do you copy?” A gruff, official sounding voice responded on the intercom.
“Rodger, loud and clear Lieutenant.”
“Relay to Delta two through six to prepare to engage. We are currently arming the automatic turrets. At least 10 tangos on radar.”
“Rodger, I’ve got them on radar, and will inform Delta two through six immediately. I will provide reports when necessary. Over.” Clarke’s heart began to race faster. He was beginning to see spots in his vision. He quickly took a seat before he passed out. This was really happening, wasn’t it? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.
He was the captain of this ship, he had to play the part. he couldn’t allow his crew to see him terrified like this! He could feel the blood beginning to drain back into his cheeks. They did have quite the arsenal at their disposal; a small fleet of 6 heavily armed fighter ships, in addition to heavy shielding on the Titus Andronicus and 4 powerful auto-targeting turrets. Maybe they did stand a chance. Back on the Roanoke, they had only light shielding and an escort of three. But under his guidance, they had been destroyed...
No, stop, there was no time for this thinking. Maybe this was his chance to redeem himself. Yes, that was it. This wasn’t another chance to fail, it was a chance at redemption! That’s how he would think of it, he told himself. After all, the Titus Andronicus was one of the most heavily armed and armored of the fleet.
He could only imagine how the rest of his crew was feeling right now. Not just his bridge crew, but the rest as well. The crew of the Titus Andronicus consisted of four on the bridge, and another 8 “below deck,” so to say. That was engineering, hydroponics, cargo, and flight deck. There was a lot of people to lose on these ships if he were to mess up. A lot of people who signed up for this dangerous job, he argued, including himself. But did he really know the risks when he had started? He felt like someone who had gone skydiving for the first time, and then was suddenly surprised when his parachute didn’t open. That’s probably how most of the crew felt right now. He shifted his attention back the the actual matters at hand.
“Lieutenant, are the ships still gaining?” She was watching the radar carefully.
“Unfortunately, yes, Captain. They’ve increased their speed by the same percentage we’ve increased ours. At this rate, they’ll be on top of us in three minutes.” Three minutes... Three more minutes of normality, and then- it would all fall apart around him.
“Jameson, can this thing go any faster?” He already knew the type of response he would get back, something along the lines of ‘If it could go any faster, don't you think I would’ve already done it?’ or something sarcastic along those lines. He wasn’t far off.
“Do you take me for some kind of an idiot, Clarke? I’m pushing engine meltdown right now, Captain.” he basically spat the word ‘captain.’
“Hey! I don’t need your attitude Commander. Shape up.” Jameson just looked at him in disgust and turned away again. What was his problem? Why the hell did Jameson hate him so damn much? He looked out the main bridge window at the glowing vista ahead, a vast starfield of nothingness. He looked out at the stars racing past, the closer stars appeared as white lines- dashes almost- that flew by the ship. The further stars appeared more static, unwavering, until they approached.
“One minute until they reach us sir.”
“Acknowledged.” he stated simply, his eyes glued to the vortex of stars in front of him. A few moments passed in silence. Then Lovurc said
“Sir, we are within visual range. Would you like me to bring it on screen?”
“Affirmative.” he replied. The stars were quickly replaced by an image from one of the ship’s rear cameras. It was zoomed in several times. Now he could clearly see the shapes of several vessels against the starry backround. The ships were clearly designed for stealth; they were completely black, with no running lights at all. This would make fighting them much harder, he knew.
“Damn, there they are.” commander Zale stated in awe.
“Hail them, commander.” Clarke said. His first officer went to work on his console.
After a moment of silence, he responded,
“Nothing sir, no response. It’s all dark.”
“Damn.” he whispered quietly under his breath. These men didn’t want to just talk. They didn’t want to negotiate, they wanted to fight. And anyone this eager to fight, he knew, would be good at what they did.
“Do I have your permission to order them to engage?” Lovurc asked.
“Affirmative.” Clarke replied.
Lieutenant Lovurc opened a comm channel to Delta one again.
“Delta one, this is Lieutenant Lovurc, do you copy?”
“Roger, Lieutenant, what is the status?”
“They’re coming up fast from behind, prepare your team for immediate attack and engage at will.”
“Roger that lieutenant, over and out.” Now the real fun would begin. He felt a strong, sudden sense of deja vu; he could clearly remember his past experience- it was not at all too dissimilar to the current. He could remember the fighter squadron of the Roanoke; they had fought valiantly, but in vain. They were torn to bloody shreds, no doubt in the explosions that had ripped apart their ships.
On the main viewscreen, they could see now their suddenly inferior fighter squadron approach the much more dangerous looking pirate ships. Then the bolts started flying. He was too nervous to notice who started firing first. The highly ionized plasma bolts filled the dark bridge with neon colors: blue, red, green, like a hypnotic pattern out of control. He could see the ships dancing around each other, engaged in some sort of cosmic dance, he thought. In a different time and place, it could have been considered quite beautiful. They crew on the bridge watched in silence for several minutes as the ships on both sides narrowly avoided laser after laser... The bridge was suddenly illuminated by a bright, orange-yellow flash originating from the top right of the viewscreen. Not quite a fireball. It was more of a rippling effect, waves of pure fire swept from their origin, filling the screen in fiery ocean waves.The first ship had been lost. But from whose side? His question was quickly answered by his chief of security.
“S***, we just lost Delta four’s signal, sir.” Before there was any time for reaction, Delta one’s comm link opened.
“Delta four is down, I repeat, Delta four is down.” He said slowly, solemnly. Then he added
“These guys know how to fight, Captain. We can’t even touch them.”
“What do you recommend, Delta one?” A moment of static.
“Sir, our job is to protect this ship, and that is exactly what we intend to do.”
The captain paused before answering again. Then he finally said, with a slight hint of emotion,
“Then fight on.”
“Roger. Over and out.” He clicked off. The cosmic disco continued in front of them, a beautiful display of pure destruction. He turned to talk to Commander Zale.
“Commander, have you activated a distress beacon yet?”
“Of course sir, but you know it won’t reach anyone for at least 4 days.” He nodded. Of course he knew. But, who knows? Maybe they could hold out just long enough...
“Yes, I know Commander.” He replied. He turned his attention back to the raging war outside his window. Suddenly, another orange cloud filled the screen. He knew it was one of their own. It had to be; he knew he wasn’t that lucky. Delta one’s voice was heard again.
“Sir, that’s Delta 2-” He was sharply interrupted by another explosion on the viewscreen- another one down.
“Damn it, they’re dropping like flies!” Jameson said worriedly.
“Delta One, report!” Lovurc yelled into the microphone. This time, Delta One did not respond. His heart sunk. He knew. Delta one was the cloud of orange fire they had just seen. The voice of a young man was heard through the intercom.
“Captain Clarke, umm, Delta One is-is down sir.” Stunned silence. He was not the one who was supposed to go down. He was the best of the best. The elite. And he was gone. Another explosion on the viewscreen. Time seemed to slow down as Clarke watched the screen. As the watched the waves of orange fire burst from the point where there had once been a ship. Then there were two, he thought. He could see the colorful bolts of energized plasma slicing through the airless vacuum, cutting into the cold metal of the ships. Time suddenly snapped back into proportion.
“Who’s left, Lieutenant?” She shook her head sadly.
“Just 5 and 6 now.” They’re all we got. No casualties on the other side either, sir.” He looked at him with sad eyes.
“We’re not winning this fight.” She said with finality. The captain turned away, thinking about this for a moment. We’re not winning this fight. The words played over and over in his mind. And she was right. This was all too reminiscent of his previous failure. Was this his fault? Could anybody have done different? Or was he never truly fit to be a captain? Perhaps he was always the defect. The one that was broken. He finally said,
“Recall them. Recall them now. They’re not going to die out there in vain.”
She nodded her head understandingly.
“Aye, sir.” She opened a channel to all the remaining Delta team.
“Delta five and six, do you copy?” A pause, then,
“Roger.” Then another.
“I’m here lieutenant.”
“The captain has ordered you to fall back, effective immediately. Return to the flight deck right away.”
Clarke was watching out the window with eyes beginning to tear. He watched as the two remaining white and gold ships outside began to flee, leaving the battle to return to the relative safety of the Titus Andronicus.
“Okay, sir, we’re returning now.” One of them said over the loudspeaker; it was the young man he had heard before.
Then his voice suddenly returned, different, now.
“Holy s***...” He said in disbelief at something only he could see.
“Sir, I don’t know if you’re going to believe this.” He paused.
“What is it Delta 6?”
His voice changed again. Now he spoke with a voice of resignation.
“It’s been an honor to serve under you, Captain Clarke. I can only wish you the best of luck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Captain.”
“What the hell are you talking about, soldier? Get your ass back into this ship!” The entire ship suddenly shifted violently, throwing anyone standing to their feet. Clarke fell backwards, hard. He slammed his head directly into an engineering console behind him. He blacked out for a moment. When he came to, his vision was deeply blurred; he could barely make out a new set of flashing red lights illuminating the bridge. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. What the hell just happened? He forced himself to sit up, leaning back against the cool metal wall.
“Captain! Captain, are you okay?” He could hear a concerned, feminine voice in the distance. He shook his head, trying to clear his jumbled mind. His vision was returning to normal.
“What?” He asked aloud.
“Are you okay, sir?” He could make out Lieutenant Lovurc now in front of him, open hand outstretched. He grabbed it, and she pulled him up.
“Yeah, I’m fine. What the hell just happened, Lieutenant?”
“We lost.” was her somber reply.
“What?” Clarke asked, in a questioning, confused tone.
“Shields, weapon systems, life support, primary engines, all offline. This ship is about to fall apart.”
“What?? How?” Then he added,
“The Delta team, are they-?” He didn’t need to finish his question. He already knew the answer. They were dead, of course. All of them.
“Look.” She pointed out at the main viewscreen.
He found himself looking out into what he saw as empty space.
“What am I looking at, Lieutenant?” She said nothing. The rest of the bridge crew was also staring out into the vista of stars. What did they see that he did not? Then he saw it. They had never even stood a chance. It was a ploy, a scam. They had this the whole time. It was so big, he hadn’t seen it at first. He could barely make out the outline of a ship, the biggest he had ever seen in his entire life. Bigger than any United Star Federation ship he had seen, for sure. He could see their clever design now. The ship was designed perfectly for camouflage. It’s hull was completely black, with pinpricks of light in unpredictable places that perfectly matched the stars surrounding it. It must have been three, four the size of the Titus Andronicus.
“Oh my God.” He breathed. Now he knew what hit them. Well, not exactly, no, but he understood now. It didn’t matter what it was, all that mattered was that it came from that. This thing had single handedly disabled their ship. He was in total shock now. He knew he had to do a systems check. It was protocol. F*** the protocol! he heard a voice in his head say. But he shook it off. He knew if he didn’t follow order, then chaos would only ensue.
“Commander Zale, systems check, please.” Before he could even respond, Jameson countered him.
“What the hell is wrong with you Clarke?! We’re marooned in a goddamned piece of s*** spaceship, and you want to do a freakin’ systems check?”
“Shut the hell up Commander! Yes, I want a systems check , and I want it now!” That shut the son of a b**** up for now. Zale said,
“As Lieutenant Lovurc said, primary engines offline, weapon systems offline, life support offline, long range communications offline, Stargate drive offline, shields offline. Everything’s taken a hit sir. Whatever hit us, that is. I’m reading massive decompression of several main decks, but containment looks solid.” He almost laughed. He really did. Brand new ship! Only 2 years old. State of the art shield and weapons system. And they didn’t even get to try them out! He looked around the bridge. In ruins. Smoke poured out from various newly created cracks in the metal, and red emergency lights flashed overhead. Zale suddenly added,
“And-s***. We’ve lost the life signs of the entire rest of the crew, Captain. They’re all dead...”
“Oh my God...” Lovurc whispered. It was likely the decompression, he knew. They were probably sucked out into space when the missile, or laser, or whatever hit them. The rest of the crew: dead. This was worse than he could possibly have imagined. Ho had this happened so fast? How had it gone bad this fast?
Sounding shocked, Zale said something new.
“Sir, they’re hailing us.” Captain Clarke, now in a slightly entertained, maniacal voice, replied,
“Oh, are they now? Well, put them on then!” Commander Zale gave him a funny look.
“Sir, are you alright?”
“Never better, Zale. Now put them on.” He flicked a switch, and the screen changed to a view of the bridge of the leviathan in front of them. The shock of what he saw suddenly pushed him back into his chair, hard. He became dizzy all at once, and found he couldn’t breathe. He saw the spark of recognition in the man’s eyes as well, right before Clarke yelled,
“Cut transmission!” The screen flashed back to the stars. He was breathing heavy now, in shock.
“Captain, are you okay?”
“Yeah, what the hell was that?” Jameson added.
He began to chuckle now. Then louder.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jameson yelled to him.
He finally spoke, quietly, in a stunned voice,
“It’s Lichar.” The rest of the bridge crew looked at each other nervously.
“Sir, he’s just a myth. A story, made up for children.”
“No, no he’s not Lieutenant. That’s him out there now, and that was him when I met him three years ago back on the Roanoke. That’s Captain Lichar.”
Jameson spoke up,
“So you’re telling me, that the most ruthless and dangerous criminal in the entire galaxy, who may or may not be real, is sitting outside waiting to talk to us?” He paused, looking at Clarke, then turned away,
“Figures.” he said to himself.
“Put him back on.” Clarke said to his first officer, still stunned. How could it possibly be? What were the odds? They were astronomical, he knew. Last time they had met, though, he didn’t have that monstrosity. That was new. The bridge of the ship came back online. The man was still standing there, waiting. Clarke stood back up to view Lichar, a middle aged man with a small beard and moustache, with light brown hair. The man just emanated a kind of violent aura, just looking at him, you could tell what kind of a man he was.
“Finally crawled out the hole where you've been hiding, Lichar?” He said with much more confidence than he felt.
“Ah, Captain Alex Clarke! Good to see you again! I must admit, our last encounter went rather poorly, wouldn’t you say?” He spoke with a strong, confident voice, almost casual. Alex Clarke stared back in anger. That was the breaking point for him. He suddenly lost it.
“You-You son of a b****!” He finally yelled.
“You are the lowest form of humanity in this galaxy, Lichar! And I will NOT let you get away with this!” The man only smirked at his response.
“So you’re going to stop me? You and what army?” He stopped and smiled
“Oh, that’s right, I already killed your army!” He let out a laugh. Clarke remembered it well.
He spoke again
“Why don’t you listen to me, Clarke. I intend to take what is in your cargo bay, at any cost. I hear this ship carries very valuable supplies, captain.” Of course he was right. That was why it was so heavily armed. The ship carried vital supplies, ship parts, station sections, advanced technology, even weapons.
“Of course I had no idea that it was you who commanded this vessel! It is good to see you again, Captain. Anyways, I figure the best way to obtain the cargo is to board your ship and hack the cargo pods. So, yeah. I’m going to do that.” He spoke with a terrifyingly calm tone, friendly, casual in nature.
“I’m sorry to say I won’t be joining you aboard your little ship there, The Titus Andronicus, yes? But I have more important matters to attend to here. It’s been fun, Clarke. I’ll see you around.” He stopped to consider a moment, then added,
“Or, maybe not.” He smiled briefly, then cut the transmission. By now, Clarke was shaking. He was sure the other crew members were in no better shape than he. The crew remained silent. This was where it all ended. He knew that. They couldn’t possible get out of this alive.
He thought back to his last moments on the Roanoke. He remembered Lichar clear as day. He had brutally slaughtered the rest of the crew, he had only been spared because of pure luck. He had somehow found himself the only one who had made it to the flight deck alive, and had been able to escape in an untraceable escape pod. Of course, then, they had only been a day or two from the nearest station then. It was a risky maneuver on behalf of the pirates, planning an attack so close to safety. A maneuver that clearly, they had done away with. He had escaped, unnoticed, as the sole survivor of the incident. How similar this felt to those moments...
But there was nothing. Their ship was a sitting duck, the only systems they still had under their control were auxillary power and reactor core functions. And what could he do with those? With the Stargate drive in ruins on the engineering deck, there was no means of escape. The auxiliary engines could only take them short distances. And with all weapons systems down, there was no way to fight either. They had a small store of assault weapons in the armory, maybe they could repel the boarding pirates? No, they’d be ready for that. They’d have the entire crew dead before anyone would even had time to pull the trigger. He knew that too. And as it a final touch, life support was out. They’d be dead within a day if nothing else killed them first. So they really were sitting ducks then. A sudden sway of the ship awoke him from his thoughts. He looked around at the bridge crew. He knew they all knew what it was. The had begun boarding. His mind began racing. There had to be something he could do! He wasn’t going to just wait here to die!
“Okay, I want the main bridge door locked down tight, you hear me? I don’t anything getting through that door.” He said to Zale, indicating the large, metal door that served as the only way into and out of the bridge.
“I’m on it sir.” he replied. He could hear the loud clunk of the doors locks as they engaged.
“Without explosives, they aren’t getting through that door.” He didn’t bother mentioning the problem with that statement: They probably had explosives. But maybe they wouldn’t bother. With no other living crew members, they might just ignore them and collect the cargo. They could buy themselves a little time, at least. But he knew, Lichar had every intention to kill them all when he was done. The man whose existence could not even be officially confirmed, since everybody who had ever seen him had been murdered. Except for him, of course. He tried to think. There had to be something he missed! The life boats? No, they were already destroyed by the initial impact. They had only a few hours, max, with life support out. By the looks of the readings, the damage was far too extensive to repair. Could they manage to take one of the pirate’s ships? Maybe the one docked to the Titus Andronicus? Even as he was thinking it, he knew it was ridiculous. They would’ve thought of that, he knew. They would have armed guards at the ship. And even if they made it into the ship, the other pirates weren't idiots. They would shoot the ship down before they could even engage the stargate drive. He looked out at the stars again. They were no longer moving, he noted, now that they had stopped. He remembered when he had found solace looking out into the vista of shimmering stars and galaxies. Now, he only felt alone.
That was when the idea hit him. How had he not seen it before? Maybe he had, but he just didn’t want to recognize it. It was the end game solution. For everyone.
“I have an idea.” He said quietly.
“What? You know how to get us out of this mess?” Zale asked.
He shook his head. “
But I do know how to stop them, to stop Lichar from doing this to anyone else. We can be his last victims.” James Zale just looked at him confused.
“What are you blabbering about now, Clarke?” Jameson asked in his usual tone.
It was an ancient tactic, one used first in World War II, then again in the Sovereign Colonies uprising in 2142. It was a horrific method, a waste of human life.
“We kamikazee them.” He finally said. He was met with shocked silence.
“Have you lost your mind?!” Jameson shouted.
“I’m not going to die for no reason, Clarke!” He continued.
“We either die taking them out, or die, knowing that we only helped to serve them. You know I’m right. Nobody survives an attack by pirates like these.”
“You did.” Zale said simply. Clarke looked at him sympathetically.
“We all know that can’t happen now. This is end game. Your choice.” He gave them a moment.
“Let’s do it.” Lieutenant Lovurc said.
“He’s right, we can change this at least, for those who would have come after us! I’m in.” she added. Clarke’s second in command sighed, then said,
“Okay. Let’s go out fighting.” he said simply. Clarke nodded at him.
“Jameson?” Clarke looked towards his stubborn, arrogant Commander Lieutenant. He said nothing.
“I need your vote, Jameson.” He looked at Clarke with slightly teary eyes, a sight that took Clarke completely by surprise. With finality, he nodded.
“For once, you’re right, Clarke. Let’s take those bastards down with us” Alex Clarke nodded approvingly at him. He took a look at each of his fellow crew members sadly, and in silence. It had to be done.
“Okay, so here’s the plan. We jettison the life support fuel core. The electromagnetic shockwave from that will temporarily incapacitate the pirate ships. If we tune our electromagnetic shielding to the correct frequency, we should be unaffected. Clear?” He waited for a positive acknowledgement. His crew nodded.
“Then, we engage full auxiliary engines, straight into that thing. And that’s it. End game.”
“Okay, I’ll prepare the fuel core for jettison.” Zale said in reply. The Captain nodded at him in aprovel. He wondered briefly how far the pirates were in their current quest. They had boarded the ship near the rear, by the cargo bay. Had they already opened the shipping containers? It didn’t really matter, they would all be dead in a few minutes anyway.
“Okay, ready at your mark to jettison and detonate fuel core, sir.”
“Good.” he said.
“Do it.” Commander Zale pushed a button on his control panel, and the ship lurched a small amount.
“Detonating in three, two, one, detonate.” There was a sudden brilliant blue flash on the viewscreen, and the screen briefly turned to static before returning to normal. He watched the massive ship through the screen, watched as it’s lights began to flicker, matching the twinkling stars surrounding it, then shut off.
“ They’re hailing us sir.”
“On screen.” He said.
The face of Lichar reappeared on the screen, a smirk on his face. He clearly had no idea what was coming to him.
“A nice try, Captain, but you didn’t kill me. That miniscule blast didn’t even dent our shields! A nice try though, Clarke.” Now it was Alex Clarke’s turn to smirk.
“I never believed it would kill you. But I do believe in redemption. And revenge, Captain. And this is mine.” He turned to his helmsman.
“Jameson, engage.” He could feel the roar of the engines as they propelled the craft forward, directly towards the leviathan in front of them. Lichar’s look of arrogance suddenly turned to one of surprise. Clarke was loving every minute of this.
“Clarke, what in God’s name are you doing?!”
“My job, Lichar.”
Captain Lichar turned to his helmsman.
“Full reverse, now!” He could hear his voice in the backround.
“Captain, I can’t! We’ve lost all power to primary engines!”
Lichar turned back to Clarke
“Clarke!! What have you done?!”
He only smiled back. Lichar’s expression was now one of panic.
“Don’t do this Alex, I’ll let you go, okay? you can have whatever you want, just shut down your engines!”
“Do you really think I believe that Lichar? I’m sorry. This is the way it has to be. End transmission.” The viewscreen returned to space, the massive ship in front of them growing closer each passing second. This was really it. No more bullshit. They would die here, now.
“Sir, they’re hailing us.”
“Ignore them.” He replied sternly.
He thought back to a presentation he had seen about World War II. He remembered an interview with a japanese soldier, relating to, what he called, the “Special Attack.” He remembered what he had said:
“The Special attack was not an attack-” He became aware of a desperate knocking at the bridge door. The pirates, undoubtedly, trying to get in , to stop them. He ignored it.
“But a defense.-” The massive ship grew closer.
“Defense for our country-” The dark ship grew closer still.
“For our families,-” This was it. They would die for the good of the Human race, to help even at the cost of their lives.
“And for our loved ones.” The ship was on top of them. This was it. With a sense of newfound self acceptance, he closed his eyes, and waited.



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