Imperial Galactic Time: June 19, 3187 13:36
“Admiral Vex from Invader-class Star Cruiser Journeyer to Captain Rogers of Invader-class Star Cruiser Peacemaker, I am receiving orders from the Emperor,” reported Vex on Peacemaker’s intercom.
The two fleets were in low orbit of the earth-like planet in the rarely explored solar system. The ground assault had been strong and swift, worthy of the might of the United Earth Empire. All L.A.S.T. squadrons had returned to the fleet soon after the victory, except for one who had remained to collect supplies from the now devastated rebel base and collect data of the habitability of the celestial body. The two fleet commanders were hoping that the frigate would rendezvous with the large Imperial fleet before further orders were received.
“You may proceed, admiral,” responded Rogers over the radio.
“The Emperor has ordered us to jump to the Ghash system. The message claims there are several heavily armed Rebel frigates. Our Devastator-Class frigates need further reinforcements. Your thoughts?”
Captain Rogers pondered the order. He paced back and forth in the windowed, beak-shaped bridge of his Invader Star Cruiser. Stopping temporarily, Rogers gazed out at the fleet of corvettes, frigates, and capital ships at his command. Turning around to gaze at the rocky planet consisting of forests, mountains, savannahs, and deserts with lakes spotting its surface. He wondered, if terrorists could be found in outlying planets such as this, then they must be everywhere. Leaving the planet undefended would be foolish.
“Admiral, you have my permission to jump to Ghash, and take the fleet with you. I’ll meet you there once Liberator has returned,” ordered the captain. “Glory to the Empire.”
“Glory,” repeated Vex.
Captain Rogers turned to the engineers on the bridge. “Keep the jump drive shut down. I don’t expect the siege transport to return anytime soon. There’s no point in wasting electricity.”
“Yes, sir,” they responded.
Rogers returned his glare to the fleet. It appeared that each ship had set coordinates to the system. The captain saw the fabric of space-time warp around each ship as their jump drives were powering up. With a light show of sparks and a bright flash, each Imperial ship had warped through a wormhole and disappeared to the other side of the galaxy. An astonishing sight for an everyday individual, but for Rogers and the pilots and engineers on Peacemaker, it was just another day on the job.
***
“Where the hell is that ship?” Cried out Rogers. It has been more than six IGT hours since Admiral Vex had departed.
“Hold on, Captain,” said an engineer positioned at his control station on the bridge. “We’re receiving a signal from an approaching ship. It’s a L.A.S.T. frigate.”
“Well about damn time.”
A male voice sounded over Peacemaker’s intercom. “This is Lieutenant Steve on board Low Altitude Siege Transport frigate Liberator requesting permission to dock.”
“Permission granted lieutenant,” responded Rogers with the onboard radio. “Do you or your men have anything to declare?”
“Supplying the ship went somewhat swimmingly, despite the amount of time it took, but I do request that this planet is listed as “uninhabitable” in the Imperial Archives.”
Confused, the captain began questioning the lieutenant of the physical stability of the planet. Gas abundances, tectonic activity, weather, or anything else that could put lives in jeopardy.
“Oh no no no no. It’s not the planet that could endanger lives, sir, it’s what’s on the planet.”
“Explain.”
“The terrorists were doing illegal experimentation, specifically on cyborg technology. They had a particular interest in wolf-like animals. Some of them escaped during our attack into the forests, but we did recover some specimens. We could present them to Congress to justify the Rebel’s will against the UEE, perhaps.”
Pondering this, the captain strolled over to an area on Peacemaker’s bridge where the approaching L.A.S.T. frigate could be viewed. It was still several kilometers away, but should be firing off its retrograde thrusters soon to avoid collision during docking. Surely the battle that Admiral Vex participated in had ceased by now. The two ships would instead jump to Saturn’s moon Titan, the capital of the United Earth Empire. The resources would be of great use in sales for the government.
Suddenly, an explosion could be heard over the intercom. Something had detonated on Liberator.
“What the hell was that?” said the lieutenant in the background. “Oh god no. No! AAAAAHHHHHH-” Another explosion had cut the transmission to static.
Captain Rogers was stunned. While hearing the transmission, he witness several explosions occur on the frigate. What could have caused that? All members of the Imperial Navy were completely loyal to their commanding officers. They couldn’t have overloaded a major component. Neither would Steve respond to the situation the way he did.
“Someone get me a damage report on that frigate now!” Rogers intended to get to the bottom of this.
“Several explosions have detonated Liberator’s reactors and batteries. Some of their hydrogen tanks were exploded as a result. Their retrograde thrusters are heavily damaged, nothing is going to stop that ship now,” reported an engineer from his control station. “There’s also a breach in the hull. Liberator is unable to maintain an airtight atmosphere. Her crew is dead.”
“What’s the frigate’s distance relative to us,” asked Rogers.
“Sixty kilometers and closing, sir.”
“Order all hands to strap themselves in. Shutdown inertia dampeners and fire off prograde thrusters. Ensure that Liberator doesn’t hit us!”
The engineer gave the order. All other hands on the bridge secured their restraints in their respective seats and control stations. The captain remained standing, gazing on the approaching remains of a L.A.S.T. frigate. The frigate was only forty kilometers away before the engines kicked on. The Invader Cruiser experienced a rapid increase in acceleration as its ion and hydrogen thrusters began to propel the ship through space. The engineers were struggling to keep a stable position in their seats while the captain remained standing, as if the laws of physics didn’t apply to him.
The experience was short lived. Only a few seconds in, the Peacemaker experienced a much more gradual increase in acceleration. The crew could hear that most of the engines had cut off. “We ran out of hydrogen fuel, sir,” reported an engineer, “we’re resorting to ion engines now.”
“How close is the frigate to us,” asked the captain
“Twenty-five kilometers, sir,” reported another crewmate.
“Ion engines won’t get us out of its path, and the jump drive won’t power up in time,” Rogers said to himself. “Activate the distress beacon. Activate the beacon, NOW!”
The loyal engineers did not delay bringing the device operational. Hopefully, an Imperial vessel would detect the signal. The captain sprinted over to his flight seat and smashed his fist on the intercom button.
“ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP! ALL HANDS ABANDON SHIP!” The captain turned to his bridge crew. “Get to your escape pods! Lock in your helmets and get the hell out of here!”
The remaining men followed their orders to the letter. Securing their EVA helmets to their suits, they had dispatched the bridge within seconds. Rogers remained. He had moved himself where he could view the incoming frigate, Peacemaker’s Bane. The sound of the magnetic locks disengaging indicated that the escape pods were launched. The crew was safe. The safety of the captain’s position was debatable, however. Liberator was only half a kilometer away.
“The captain will go down with his ship,” Rogers said to his good self and his wits, slowly equipping his helmet and locked it to his suit. “But he shall live to fight another day…”
***
The frigate had made contact with the ship within seconds. Liberator had contacted the bridge’s tower access. The tower was located at the rear of Invader-class Star Cruisers and consisted of thick, heavy armor. This protection, however, was no match for the force of a thirty million kilogram ship moving at several kilometers per second could unleash. The pointed bow of the frigate sliced through Peacemaker’s armor like a knife through butter. The oxygen the cruiser contained in its internal atmosphere quickly escaped as the frigate tore through its airtight hull. The bridge was separated as the L.A.S.T. frigate had cleared its path through the Peacemaker. The escaping gases exerted their force on the separated debris that was the bridge of a mighty warship, pushing it away from the remains of Peacemaker as it spun into the void. What the lone officer, who remained in the remains of the cruiser’s bridge being tossed around like a rag doll during the event, failed to realize that the very piece of steel and glass that he was located was about to enter the gravity well of the Earth-like planet below him.
The debris continued to spin as its altitude plummeted. Rogers continued to be thrown around inside the remaining bridge until he was inevitably knocked unconscious. The velocity of the remains had increased to one kilometer per second when it reached the atmosphere a minute after the captain fell into unconsciousness. The acceleration of the ship was dramatically high, almost enough to kill Rogers. However, the awkward shape of the debris had slowed its descent slightly as the atmosphere acted against its force. The planet’s surface continued to approach as the bridge plummeted. The debris was a fiery meter as it reached the lower layers of the planet’s atmosphere. The acceleration of the steel mass was 150 meters per second squared, easily breaking a few of the captain’s ribs, but dissipated to seventy when the bridge splashed on to the planet’s surface.

Audio Log (Entry 1): “Rotation 1”
OW! FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

Entry 2: “Rotation 1” (2)
Okay, I think I’m good, for the most part. I think I went unconscious as I was being thrown around in the bridge, and broke a few bones as I descended, but I’m okay. It’s nothing that Imperial medications can’t solve.
I woke up to find the bridge washed up on the shore of a rather large lake. Chances are that the bridge landed in the lake. If I landed anywhere else I would have died. Luckily for me, by body still draws breath, so that’s a plus. Whatever god that smiled down upon me and placed that lake there is beyond me.
So, speaking of not dying, I might as well start improving my situation. It’s the middle of the day on this Earth-like planet so I still have some daylight left, despite my lack of knowledge concerning the time it takes the planet to make one full rotation. I need to start making a base for protection since I don’t know the dangers of the planet’s wilderness. I might as well start stripping down some of the armor from the wreckage. It’s currently unstable and may be washed away with the lake’s tide.
Luckily for me, there is a spare set of tools stored in the locker of the bridge. The welder, grinder, and drill will become invaluable to me in this “trial of ordeal.” The grinder will slice steel from the wreckage rather than my bare hands, the welder will bond them together for my base, and the drill will gather more resources when needed. I think I have a plan.

Entry 3: “Rotation 1” (3)
Well, there’s good news and bad news.
First the good news. I was able to construct a small steel shelter with the bridge’s sliding door as its entrance. The shelter is small and in the shape of a cube, but when one is considering that I’m the only person within miles from another on an unexplored planet, I think it will suffice. I can always add on to it if I need more components to improve the situation. I have also installed one of Peacemaker’s windows as a viewing port on my base’s ceiling. If it just so happens that a civilian or Imperial ship flies low on an unexplored Earth-like planet, I would like to know. I also removed and welded the major components that I could find on the wreck to my base. The assembler and refinery were a haul, but the job was done. The solar photovoltaic panels that once lined Peacemaker’s bridge and powered her batteries have now been transferred and wired to my own batteries (of which I ripped off the wreck too). The medical bay and its computer, in which I have been writing these “logs” of sorts, is safely inside the shelter. The oxygen generator was not on the bridge so I couldn’t scavenge it, but it doesn’t matter since the planet’s atmosphere consists of less than a percent of carbon dioxide and about twenty percent oxygen.
Now the bad news. The sun has just went down. My solar panels are not drawing any power so the components that have been welded to the shelter are drawing power from my batteries. If my batteries run dry, I am essentially screwed. If something goes wrong, or something gets in my shelter, I won’t be able to open the door or grind it off its hinges in time. As of right now, I might as well pray for the best, I suppose.
Also, I don’t have a beer. Where the hell is my goddamn beer!
***
The lone captain laid himself down on the floor and stared out the pane of glass that made up his shelter’s ceiling. The officer stared out into the dark starry sky. The planet’s large, low-orbit moon shone brightly in the night sky as well did another planet. A Mars-like planet also existed in the solar system with a single moon. The orange sand reflected its own color to create a great contrast in the black sky. Its orbit was rather close to the Earth-like planet so it could clearly be viewed at night, but far enough away so that the two planets could not collide. Rogers continued to stare at the scenery that he took audience in until his mind was dominated by sleep.

Entry 4: “Rotation 2”
The night went rather swimmingly. Nothing had disturbed my sleep, except the fact that the night only lasted about eight hours which makes takes the planet twenty hours to make one full rotation, which is a rather good sign. I suppose my presence hasn’t attracted any unwanted visitors, if such exists on the planet. I suppose I should get off my lazy butt and get back to work. I rather ensure my safety than the chance that I am not.
Just as I predicted, the wreckage is gone. It’s floating in the center of the lake. I’m glad that I got all the major components off it. I would have been as good as dead without them. I didn’t get all of the steel or glass but that’s fine. There’s plenty of sand on the lake’s beaches and there probably is a plentiful amount of iron beneath the surface of the planet, considering the mineral composition of this planet is similar to Earth’s.
So, let’s go off the checklist. I have food, since the awesome power of the medical bay can create just about everything I need from just from molecules in earthen materials and the surrounding atmosphere. There’s a “metric butt-load” of fresh drinking water so that solves itself. My crude base is sheltering me. I don’t have fire, but electricity is infinitely better than that crude energy, especially when you have an electrical med bay that feeds you. My tools are functioning properly. I think I’m set, except for one thing, communications.
The antenna on Peacemaker’s bridge was destroyed in the impact, so I couldn’t salvage that. I don’t have the resources to build a new one and I am not going to tear apart one of my production units to glue a new one together. The day I tear apart a production unit for something silly is the day I die, literally. Even if I had an antenna, I probably couldn’t receive or send any signals.
My base is located on the side of a hill, a dense forest of tall oak-like trees from the top of the hill back to God-knows-where, and a two kilometer-wide lake bordered by tall peaks in front of it. This is the lousiest place to weld down a communications device.
So, here’s the agenda. Find a resource deposit so I can get the materials I need and put my base on wheels. No literally, I need to put my base on wheels. I need to construct a new base in a better location, but I am not carrying every single forty liters worth of materials back and forth in the pockets of my EVA suit! I just need the resources to assemble four wheel suspensions with four 2X2 meter wheels, if I get lucky with the resources. Well, back to work Rogers, you lazy a**.

Entry 5: “Rotation 2” (2)
Hooray for Imperial magnetic ore detectors! Good ole Captain Rogers found a large ore deposit of literally every resource needed for my survival in the middle of the forest and an iron deposit at the feet of the mountains! Yay!

Entry 6: “Rotation 4”
Well, after a couple of rotations of hard work (that may or may not have been the part of the assembler and refinery), I have welded some wheel suspensions with their wheels onto my cube of a base along with a control station for, well, control. I also welded some steel plates in sharp blade-like patterns to the front of the “rover” to slice through the trees. Thank everything good and holy that the trees here are as sturdy as a few sheets of paper. The “mobile base” will be sufficient in getting by pathetic self from “Point A” to “Point B.”
The mining trips went rather well. Nothing has tried to kill me, from a rock tumbling onto my head or saber-toothed tiger gnawing on my flesh. My “hard” work of lugging 15 liters of material back and forth to the production units for their “easy” work was time consuming, but the job was done. Welding was easy as well since the assembler had detailed instruction of putting all the equipment it made from refined materials together like toy blocks. Just one concern, how can a refinery make usable polymers into tires out of exhaled breath? Makes no sense.
Well, I probably should start moving. I rather get rescued sooner than later so I can submit these logs to the archives. Maybe to Congress or the Emperor if something interesting happens. I also really don’t want to eat the same synthetic food and water that the med bay is pumping out too much longer. Its food tastes like dirt by the way. It kind of makes sense because it’s making it from dirt I dig up, but it still doesn’t negate it flavor.
Oh, and by the way, I still don’t have a beer. The med bay won’t produce it because of codes. Out of all the Imperial codes, intoxication while piloting spacecraft in deep space where anything can happen and anything can kill you is prohibited, is the only one I don’t like. Captain Rogers is sad.
***
The Peacemaker survivor began his trek at noon on the fourth rotation. His rover steadily climbed the hill and entered the forest. The land was rather flat, but the trees had grown closely together, limiting visibility and provide cover for his stalkers with glowing red eyes for the next several rotations. The “blades” on the rover easily sliced through the oaken material, creating a clear and straight path through the woods. Despite the trees blocking sunlight for the rover’s solar panels, the captain’s batteries lasted long enough to reach the savannah at the other side of the forest.

Entry 7: “Rotation 10”
What another beautiful day on planet, Bob (yes, I just named this godforsaken planet Bob. Deal with it). The sunrise now illuminates the beautiful, flat savannahs before me. The only tall structures are scattered acacia-like trees, so there won’t be any interference with communications systems. Perfect. So now all I have to do is weld an antenna on top of my rover-base-thing and record a message for a rescue team.
***
When the large communications array had been built out of the lone survivor’s excess resources, Rogers had recorded this message: “This is Captain Rogers of the UEES Peacemaker, Invader-class. My ship had collided with Low Altitude Siege Transport Frigate Liberator over an unnamed planet in Sector V of the Milky Way Galaxy to eliminate a terrorist threat in the system. I had ordered my crew to abandon ship before the collision, so I assume they’re on this planet as well. Speaking for myself and my crew, we need assistance getting off the planet and reporting back to the Imperial Navy. It has already been 200 IGT hours and I request you to please come as soon as possible.” The power of the antenna would allow the message to be heard across the planet and throughout the solar system, at least to whoever had a communications device themselves. Rogers had no idea that the Rebels may receive the transmission first.

Entry 8: “Rotation 15”

The past few rotations have been uneventful. The schedule has been the same so far: wake up, eat dirt-flavored breakfast, do nothing, eat dirt-flavored lunch, do more “nothing,” eat dirt-flavored dinner, don’t drink beer, gaze at Bob’s moon and the Mars-like planet while trying to go to sleep. A pretty boring schedule if anything. It was beginning to become a little traumatizing if you ask me, until I received a message today. Yay, not as much boredom!
I was able to triangulate the location where the message was sent. Apparently, my remaining crew had set up base at the abandoned Rebel base when they landed. The message goes as follows: “Nice to know you’re alive, Cap! We took refuge at the Rebel base 300 kilometers from your location. We’ll prepare to depart tomorrow and rendezvous at your location. Engineer Patrick, out.”
I responded, “I’ll see you and with seven other escape pods tomorrow, Pat.”
Now I have strength in numbers.
***
Little did the survivors know that electronic communications attracted the nocturnal red-eyed stalkers.

Entry 9: “Rotation 16”
Only one escape pod came into view over the horizon this morning. That escape pod was heavily damaged as well. Just two out of the four atmospheric turbines were keeping the vessel off the ground, only for the escape pod to crash a few dozen meters away from by mobile base. I quickly sprinted out across the plain to crack open the pod’s c***pit. Patrick was inside. The EVA suit he wore was burnt, cut, and bitten in every place possible. You could see the suit’s fabric dripping in blood that it had soaked up.
“Cyber-wolves. Attacked overnight. I-was the only survivor. S-s-s-save yourself,” were his last words before he bled out in my arms.
Time to batten down the hatches tonight. If “cyber-wolves” could kill all but one of Peacemaker’s crew in a single night. They had terminated their chances of survival instantly. Terminated... You know what, I dub these “cyber-wolves” “Terminators” in memory of my crew.

Entry 10: “Rotation 16” (2)
I covered my base with spotlights and put them on full power. The light might drive them away until the Terminators realize that it doesn’t do any harm to them. When that happens, the small interior turrets I welded together should do the trick. If that fails, I still have my EVA suit for protection and a grinder for self-defense. However, the EVA suit was like soft butter for the Terminators when Patrick and his group got attacked, but I prefer a suit over being butt naked out in this wilderness. Two things are for certain tonight though, I’m not getting any sleep and I’m not complaining for beer. I rather stay focused than drown my sorrows away with alcohol (for now).

Entry 11: “Rotation 17”
Thankfully, I didn’t get attacked, but I could still see glowing red eyes avoiding the light that my spotlights unleashed. The Terminators prefer to be unseen for a stealthy ambush, for now. However, I’m exhausted from lack of sleep so the agenda for today is widening the scanning range for my sensors, installing cameras for my base, and making a firearm for protection. If a Terminator gets within a 100-meter radius of my base, I’ll know where it is and I’ll be prepared.
However, I can’t hold out like this forever. I’ll eventually run out of resources to keep reloading my automatic turrets. I need to get the hell off planet Bob. I need to go on a trip in my awesome rocket ship…
You heard that right.

Entry 12: “Rotation 17” (2)
So, to protect an awesome rocket ship, I need to build a silo. In order to conserve resources in building a silo out of steel, I’m going to dig a gigantic hole in the ground. So, I need a large ship that can get itself in a large orbit around the planet which means I would need three or four different rocket stages. A crude, old-fashioned rocket with four stages is rather large, so the hole in the ground is going to be HUGE! I have my work cut out for me.

Entry 13: “Rotation 18”
Aw crap. Is it morning already. I’m tired as hell.
Well, on the bright side I finished making a HUGE silo in the ground. Downside is that I passed out once I finished, I think. Fortunately, I was stupid enough to neglect welding a staircase up the side of the rectangular hole so that acted as “natural” protection from the Terminators since they won’t jump down 200 meters. Only reason I know is the fact that I’m not dead. Yay.
Now I have to dig a tunnel up to the surface so I can lug all of the earthen material up into the refinery’s butt so I can get some resources out of this struggle. Sigh.

Entry 14: “Rotation 18” (2)
Well to make a bad morning worse, Terminators have went to town on my base. It appears that some four-legged cyber wolves have chewed off the tires to my mobile base.
I lost my transportation. Great. Now how am I going to get around? I mean, I’m in a pretty great spot. The scarce, scattered acacia-like trees and the flat plain make for great visibility for rescuers, if they ever come. However, if something interesting happens, I rather have some way to get from “Point A” to “Point B” and back to “Point A.” I’ll have to build something off the ground. Why not a fighter jet like the L.A.S.T. squadrons have?

Entry 15: “Rotation 18” (3)
Well, my knowledge in engineering sucks.
So, I started off with a fighter c***pit, like anyone else would do because that’s the coolest part, then I welded other stuff to it in hopes that I would work okay. The result: a lousy piece of crap that is incredibly wasteful in fuel. Well it does run on a rechargeable, electrical battery rather than actual fuel so that’s a plus, I guess. At least it’ll get me to places.
Well, the sun’s about to go down. I might as well get some sleep to prepare for tomorrow’s struggle: building the first stage of my rocket. That is if tonight goes well…

Entry 16: “Rotation 19”
Last night was better than the other. Much better. I much prefer sleeping on branches (that I pulled from surrounding trees when I left the crash site) than the rock hard bottom of the rocket silo.
So, the rocket. I am going to need extreme amounts of thrust if I want to escape the planet’s stronger portions of its gravitational field. That means I need large thrusters. However, “bigger” usually means “more mass” which means “more inertia,” which is going to be an absolute pain in the butt to deal with. I probably could compensate with a fuel that doesn’t have a lot of mass. Liquid fuels usually have some water in them and water is “heavy.” I rather not deal with that. It would also take up a good portion of my time to refine as well. I want to get off this piece of rock as quickly as possible too. Less time I stay here the better since I have already passed the normal survival codes “72-hour chances of survival limit” thing. Longer I stay here the less likely I’m leaving alive.
So, I’ve been thinking hydrogen. The gas mine that Saturn has become for the UEE usually pumps out a form of helium that burns for very long periods of time. The miners there do also collect a metric butt-load (if that’s a unit of measurement) of hydrogen. They’re standard fuels for Imperial spacecraft, unless said spacecraft is propelled by ion thrusters. Chances are that I can’t make that form of hydrogen on the planet, but that doesn’t mean I have no hydrogen at all. Like Earth, of year’s past, hydrogen was scarce in Bob’s atmosphere, but is plentiful in water molecules. My medical bay is capable of producing water from soils and rocks, but cannot separate molecules or atoms in their raw form. An oxygen generator is capable of breaking the bonds of oxygen and hydrogen and store them in separate tanks. Unfortunately, there was no oxygen generator aboard my wreck of a bridge. I might be able to construct one, but that’s a long and troublesome process.
Making one out of my limited resources might be my best bet. However, I won’t have any leftovers for my rocket. I haven’t found any concentration of ores out in this savannah either. The last veins I discovered are just about exhausted. Man, I’m going to be a lucky son of a gun if I can pull off making an oxygen generator and make it off this planet alive.
I almost might as well wish upon that shooting star in the sky. That fiery piece of rock zooming through the atmosphere. Just another filthy piece of ro...wait...that’s no rock. Oh hell yeah!

Entry 17: “Rotation 19” (2)
That shooting star was no meteorite.
That was the wreckage of a ship.
That was what remains of Peacemaker.
I know what my plans are for tomorrow.

Audio Log (Entry 18): “Rotation 21”
That trip took longer than expected. I forgot that my flying “transport” isn’t the best engineered piece of steel in the galaxy. Seventy-five kilometers is quite the struggle for it.
It did the job nonetheless. It got me to the crash site.
When I arrived, the remains of the once mighty Invader-class was barely recognizable. The prime of Enceladus engineering had drilled its way into the earth at a rather smooth angle, leaving a long scar on planet Bob. The exterior had been crumpled and completely blackened as it had descended through the atmosphere. However, anything that I can strip off the wreck would be invaluable, especially if the ship’s jump drives survived the crash.
If I had a jump drive, my life would be one thousand times easier. Instead of orbiting planet Bob for God-knows-how-long, I could instantly create a wormhole that will bring me directly to the Imperial capital, Titan.

Audio Log (Entry 19): “Rotation 21” (2)
You got to be crapping me.
Not only are both jump drives onboard intact, there is also a large nuclear reactor with minimal damage, a spare oxygen generator, and, after looking around more, there is a completely functional L.A.S.T. fighter jet leftover from the invasion from weeks’ past. I forgot how my crew received an atmospheric fighter that should have been docked with one of the L.A.S.T. frigates. Maybe a frigate needed extra cargo space and sent it over to Peacemaker; but does it matter? Not really. All I care about is the fact that my life just got infinitely easier. Whatever the engineers are doing to steel over at the factories over Enceladus, they’re doing it right.
So, I can now break down my lousy single-person atmospheric transport and put it in the jet’s cargo container, and thanks to its powerful VTOL capabilities, it can easily lift up a million kilogram jump drive or nuclear reactor or whatever I need. If I need to modify the jet, I can use my spare parts from my crappy “transport.” I also can use the spare steel from this wreck and transport it with my jet to construct my rocket. Today, life is good.
But for now, I need to shelter up in the jet’s c***pit. The trip here took far longer than expected, by two rotations, so it’s already sundown. I already broke down my old atmospheric-ship-thing, but the fighter c***pit would be much more comfortable. This wreck is probably my best defense against Terminators, though. If they found their way in here, they would have to work for it due to the awkward shapes that the steel exoskeleton of the ship have come to rest. If all else fails, the jet also has plenty of battery so it wouldn’t hurt if I hovered above the ground for protection. I’m set for tonight.

Entry 20: “Rotation 22”
  The trip from the wreck to my base took 10 minutes. A L.A.S.T. fighter jet with a top speed of 900 kilometers per hour is far superior to my flying hunk-of-junk. That abomination of steel shall not be missed. However, when I arrived back to base, I could clearly see Terminators were at work. There was a hole blown in the steel exterior and lights were nonfunctional and the turrets have been tampered with. A single wolf cyborg couldn’t have done this. The Terminators are hunting in large packs.
This means I’ll have to get everything I need to accelerate the process of projects on my agenda. If the fighter was able to carry the mass of another “transport” in its medium-sized cargo container in ten minutes, then I could carry a million kilogram jump drive in twenty, the same amount of time for a nuclear reactor, and ten for an oxygen generator. Let’s also say I can make the seventy-five kilometer distance in a matter of five minutes with the mass of the fighter jet alone, so the entire process will take about sixty-five minutes, if I don’t screw up on anything.

Entry 21: “Rotation 22” (2)
I screwed up a little.
I accidentally broke a jump drive when I dropped it at my base. For being a miracle of science and engineering that can contain the voltage equivalent to five solar luminosities, it can’t handle a three meter drop. How ironic. The mistake still cost me twenty minutes of the day so that made the process eighty-five minutes. A pretty pricey mistake for being on a planet with about ten hours of daylight.
I got the job done nonetheless. The other jump drive, reactor, and oxygen generator are safely secured to my base and wired up. So now, I can produce hydrogen fuel from water. Yay! So now I need a place to store it. I believe it is preferable to weld together fuel tanks for a rocket rather than having an extra one lying around in which I would have to use my new jet, but according to Murphy's Law, I probably will destroy the fighter in the process.
But onto more urgent matters. There is still a giant hole in the middle of the base, and my defenses are damaged. It will take a good few hours since I would have to reprogram AI, carefully weld motors and other moving parts together. Not a good use of my time if you ask me. Welding the spotlights back to working order will be easy. The wiring is simple and the steel structure is simple. I probably could fix it in five minutes.
However, I don’t have the resources to plug my hole in the wall. Crap. The best thing I could possibly do right now is take the jet out for a spin and find a boulder with useable ores. Considering the chances, however, it would probably take a good few hours before I find a deposit. It’s the best use of my time after repairing the spotlights. I have a funny feeling that the Terminators aren’t going to be very friendly tonight.

Entry 22: “Rotation 22” (3)
Well, crap. The nearest deposit was about 4000 kilometers away and it only had silicon. SILICON! Sorry, but I’m not planning to make an iPhone 500r to take selfies. What a waste of a nine-hour trip and all of the charge the L.A.S.T. jet’s battery could offer.
I guess it’s time to batten down the hatches. It’s going to be a long night.

As the sun set over the horizon, Rogers stood in the gaping hole in the wall with an over dramatic battle stance clutching his grinder device as a mighty sword. The glowing red eyes of his predators could be seen in the shadows. The cyber wolves had come.
As the sun’s rays slowly dissipated and the shadows grew in size, the captain’s Terminators crept ever closer to the shell that was his shelter casting off beams of light in every direction. The lone human stood still in his pose, gazing has the eyes approached his position. When the abominations had reached the illuminated area, Captain Rogers was surprised that even Engineer Patrick escaped these somewhat alive. They were obviously wolves similar to Earth’s that have been tampered with to a terrifying degree. Their bodies were covered in a durable steel painted orange and black, possessed a grin full of sharpened steel, and appeared to bear the mechanical muscles and motors that could probably propel the beast to about 160 kilometers per hour.
The captain stood his ground. The vile abominations crept closer, twenty meters from his location. Rogers kept the stern look on his face. Fifteen meters. Ten. Sweat began beading on his forehead. Five. His hands began trembling. Four. The entire shelter was surrounded. Three. The cyber wolves snarled at the captain with a sound that was half motors and half wolf growl. Two. The wolves were within striking distance of their prey.
NOW!
The captain leapt from his position and drove his grinder and drove it into the spine of the nearest Terminator. Powering the tool up, the grinder shredded the cyborg’s nervous system into metal shavings. The beast collapsed on the ground motionless as it was caught in the claws of death. The lone survivor released a loud chuckle of victory, holding his weapon above his head has tribal peoples have done in centuries’ past as the monstrosities viewed in confusion. The cyber wolves have not witnessed the death of one of their brethren before.
Snapping out of their stupor, a second Terminator pounced towards the captain, claws out and teeth bared. Rogers quickly countered by raising his tool to meet the attacker’s neck. The cyber wolf went as limp as a boned fish and collapsed to the ground as its throat was shredded to metal dust. The next few were far more cautious. They slowly approached to encircle their prey, keeping a safe distance. The perfect hunting tactic for a prey whose hope hangs by a thread.
The predators then begun to close the circle. The fear was evident on the lone survivor’s face. His only protection was his EVA suit, but the monsters before him were more than capable to ripping it to shreds.
Closer. Their growls of motor revving was growing louder and louder. They began snapping at the air to intimidate their prey.
One meter to the captain. There maws were gaping wide as if they could already taste the sweet human flesh. Rogers held his ground, until adrenaline took over. He slammed the grinder over the head of one of the predators, only for it to bounce off its skull harmlessly. He revved up his tool and lunged at another only for it to pounce away to a safe distance. Rogers quickly turned on the balls of his feet and made a mad dash for his shell of a shelter, only for two wolves to leap into his path. The survivor was trapped.
This was the end of his story, until an electronic beeping sounded.
The Terminators froze, almost to the point that their motors almost shut down. The quiet, high-pitched beep sounded again. All six cyber wolves that had surrounded former captain Rogers now took off, as fast as physically possible. The captain cheered and laughed and cursed at the fleeing cyborgs, believing his attackers were cowards toward his “might.”
He knew he was just about screwed when he looked down. The red eyes of the two fallen Terminators had begun flashing in accordance with the beeping that was becoming more frequent. The time between the tones was shortening and shortening. A bomb. Without thinking, Rogers scrambled to seek cover within his shelter. It was his only chance of survival.
Upon entering, he quickly scuttled into a corner, covered his ears, and closed his eyes. The two “dead” Terminators detonated. The force of bombs within a few meters of the base launched the structure 100 meters into the air. The human inside was tossed around like the rag doll he when he first crashed on the planet, hitting just about every surface in the base. Despite the insulated padding within Rogers’s EVA suit, he was provided no protection from contacting the shelter’s walls with an extreme amount of force.
Entry 23: “Rotation 23”
That...sucked.
Ow…
I probably should have plugged up that hole so I wouldn’t have to deal with the Terminators. I almost probably should have... aw crap!
I wasted so much time searching for raw resources when I could have scavenged off of Peacemaker. Bringing a sheet of exterior metal and welding it onto my base would have taken fifteen minutes tops. Captain Rogers is stupid.
Well, the past is in the past I suppose. Nothing can change that now. But after witnessing the wrath of the cybernetic wolves, I believe I want to get off this godforsaken planet much, much faster. I’m planning to build the rocket within five rotations from now. No more wasting time. Goodbye, planet Bob.

Entry 24: “Rotation 23” (2)
So here’s the basic plan. The first stage will have one main thruster and two boosters. Those two boosters are going to fire off first to lift the entire rocket out of the atmosphere. When the boosters detach, the gravitational strength of the planet will be much less allowing the main thruster to launch the ship into a stable orbit. After this, the main thruster will detach and allow the second stage to commence. After I do the math, the second stage will launch me out of orbit. There will be much less fuel for the second stage in order to maintain a low mass and thus will decouple after the burn. The third stage of the rocket will house myself and my jet, when I figure out how to dock it there. It will be propelled by a few large ion thrusters powered by my newfound nuclear reactor. The jump drive will also be located here and shall get me the hell out of here once I escape Bob’s gravitational influence. But before that, I’ll have one last look at the planet...and flip it off.
Then it’s beers for everyone! Yay.
Speaking of everyone, where the hell is Admiral Vex!
***
“That went rather swimmingly,” exclaimed the admiral as he watched the reactors of the Rebel Stargazer-frigates collapse under their own weight and their reactors went critical. The Rebel presence over Ghash had been neutralized. “Nice to have battles with no casualties, right men.”
Most of the men aboard Journeyer replied with a valiant “Aye!” but one engineer was rather uncertain.
“Admiral,” the timid Imperial Navy engineer began. Vex was quick to acknowledge what his men had to report. “Two ships still have to report in. Peacemaker and Liberator are missing.”
“Captain Rogers? MIA? Impossible. The battle here had only lasted an hour. It’s possible that they had a technical difficulty. Let’s not interrupt any of their operations to avoid any collisions.”
“I believe a UEE fleet has already arrived in that system, sir. I’m receiving a very powerful signal there. Only several of our Imperial capital ships could produce a signal like that. It’s impossible for it to be the terrorists.”

Entry 25: “Rotation 30”
That took longer than preferred.
So, here’s how the last few days went. First I sliced of a sheet of metal from the crash site and welded it to shut the hole in my base, then I built the rocket twelve hours every rotation nonstop. I didn’t even bother logging in the basic computer I have to save time, and I was also exhausted after twelve-hour work days so I was out cold when I got inside the safe shelter that I have. The Terminators have been around, but they haven’t chewed through the steel exterior. I think I’m set.
The rocket is pretty decent, for a “non-engineer.” It’s aerodynamic, somewhat light, and looks badass. The jump drive is on board along with the reactor, but I also hooked up the refinery, assembler, a couple solar panels, oxygen generator, and medical bay in case something goes wrong, because Murphy is a d*ck. I also added a few extra - amenities - to the craft so I can but the cyber wolves out of their misery as I roll to get into an orbit. It’ll have that extra F.U. factor to it. I also have brought along enough fresh water to last a month and astronaut dust-food lasting three months. However, all of these extra components add several kilograms of mass to my rocket, but it will most likely be worth it. I also slapped a sensor on to the base of the capsule and programed it to engage the landing gears that I put together to prevent completely crashing down.
I’ll take off tomorrow. No sense of doing it tonight. The exhausted human that I am would pass out in the intense G’s of the rocket’s thrust. I wouldn’t be able to fly the vessel out of the gravitational pull of the planet. I might as well be dead.
So I plan to lie flat on my back and stare at the night sky before me. Remember NASA’s missions to Mars while viewing the orange planet that just barely strays out of Bob’s gravitational field of influence. Man, it would be easier if that planet wasn’t being consumed by an ominous dark shape…
Wait…
OH F***!

Entry 26: “Rotation 30” (2)
We’re launching that rocket, tonight.
That’s not an Imperial ship. The traces of light from my spotlight just barely allows me to recognize the red paint lining ship’s exterior. That’s a Rebel super capital ship.
Crap.
I was really hoping I wasn’t depart for a few good hours, but not while a super capital with the capability of detecting my position. That ship shouldn’t even exist under a galactic agreement. The Spacecraft Production Act stated “Any oversized spacecraft, in times of peace or war, shall not be produced for any purpose.” Nonetheless, here it is, and the crew on board will depart to Bob’s surface and find me. It may seem stupid to launch a very, very noticeable rocket in the Rebel vessel’s sights, but it’s my best bet. I have the ability to run, but not to hide. I might as well take full advantage of that.

“Admiral Delaney, I’m receiving signals of an anomaly on the ground!” Reported a technician from his station aboard the bridge of the Majesty of the Alliance to Restore a Federation. The Majesty was a super capital ship built on the alien world codenamed Outcast, in the same solar system as Captain Rogers’s Bob. The Alliance very well knew that it was “illegal” to build such a large ship, according the United Earth Empire, but their leaders believed that it was the only possible method of gaining the Emperor’s audience if guerilla warfare would not suffice.
“The Imperial. This planet is all but shelters the insignificant marooned soldier from the recording we received,” replied Delaney. Admiral Delaney was a Promethean, a very human-like alien, with the exception of their taller stature, the ability to breathe in any atmosphere, the ability to breathe in watery environments due to a set of gills, and the ability to camouflage. It is evident that these properties were appropriate for an organism on the small, hostile planet of Prometheus, the first planet to be explored by the human race when the first jump drive had been constructed and before Earth was rendered uninhabitable by solar mass ejections. Prometheans were usually the preferred recruits for infantry divisions due to their hardy apparatus of a body. Delaney is one of the highest generals in the ARF due to his ability to wisely strategize and efficiently carry out operations. “The Empire has run out of time.”
“There’s an engine ignition, sir. Not powerful enough to be a missile. It’s a manned craft.”
“Hmm,” Delaney pondered, carefully planning out the situation. “Send two aircraft to intercept. Keep them on high alert. The UEE’s forces may be corrupted, but their will is strong. They won’t go down without a fight.”
“Yes, sir.” The technician replied, sending orders through his computer into the hangar. Well, the hangar was more of a factory storing rack than a fighter hangar. Majesty was a unique ship in the galaxy, not only because of her sheer size, but the fact that she was also a hybrid between a factory ship and a war vessel. Majesty was capable of assembling various fighters within the matter of seconds. Engineers in the “assembly line” would then dock the fighters on connectors located in the construction area, ready to take off through a small, airtight door whenever necessary.
As designed to do so, two light stealth jets quickly dashed out of one of the four hangars and soared toward the ground. The Rebel stealth jets were constructed with much more advanced engineering designing them, rather than the staple L.A.S.T. fighter jets of the Empire built on the inferior factories of Titan, but far more expensive due to the cost of materials required to construct them and the fact that such aircraft must be built by hand rather than in assembly lines.
The jets quickly approached Rogers’s launch site. The pilots could only see the scrap that had become of the survivor’s base, the escape pod that has become the gravestone of the deceased engineer Patrick which Rogers had refused to lay a finger on, and a large pit in the ground bellowing smoke by utilizing the small spotlights screwed into the flying vehicles. The jets circles, the pilots pondering the situation.
“Green One, someone’s clearly here.”
“Copy that, Green Five.”
“No sign of the marooned, though.”
Almost as soon as the pilot said it, a thunderous “boom” sounded and a consistent roar echoed throughout the area. The captain’s rocket began rising from the silo, taking the pilots by surprise and forcing them into evasive maneuvers.
“Whoa! Watch it!”
The rocket continued to gain altitude in the night sky. The two fighters scrambling to gain control and pursue the craft. The Majesty remained high in the atmosphere and spectated the events occurring near the surface.
“Green Five, try to make contact with this guy. We won’t be able to follow him if he gets too high!”
“Already tried. Either his communications are malfunctioning or he’s ignoring me. We need to give him something that he can’t ignore.”
“Did copy that, Majesty?”
“Copied and understood, Green One,” replied Delaney. “Prepping speakers now.”
The human and alien ARF engineers quickly diverted power to the external intercom speakers. Delaney’s voice was soon heard booming across the planet’s landscape.
“Unidentified spacecraft, maintain your course for intercept. Comply and you shall not be harmed. Resist, and you shall be destroyed.”
The rocket continued to climb into the higher layers of the atmosphere. The two atmospheric fighters already had to return to the Majesty. The jet turbines wouldn’t operate at elevations much higher since the air was becoming less and less dense. The two boosters of the rocket were beginning to run low on the hydrogen fuel that Rogers had filled up with. The boosters would soon cut off and would be “dead weight” since they would no longer provide thrust. That’s when Majesty received a live message from the vessel.
“General Delaney! I haven’t heard about you since the war against the Tethys Confederacy. I, Captain Rogers, played a vital role in that prosperous war. The Empire reigned victorious if you do not recall, but the Confederate leaders have left their mark on our government officials. I heard the Emperor still has a grudge against you.”
“Ah, yes. Your Emperor. Your corrupt leader shall be dethroned soon enough,” replied the general. “It is of no matter at this moment. Maintain your current course for intercept. Your vile government may consider surrender when they realize that their Emperor could not prevent the capture of one of its Navy captains. A new power shall rise and a New Confederation shall be founded where individual systems shall rule independently. Under this new power, the galaxy shall thrive until its collision with your Andromeda Galaxy. Your foolish Emperor does not see the decay of his reign and the result it had on the galaxy’s people. Your Emperor does not deserve his place upon a gold-trimmed throne upon a gold-trimmed tower where the Milky Way may be viewed.”
“That’s where you are mistaken, master general. The Emperor is not only the leader the galaxy deserves, but also the one it needs. SO BOW DOWN AND SUCK ON THESE!”
The boosters on the rocket’s first stage detached. The two components had begun to fall back towards the planet. However, it was not the planet’s surface where the boosters would come into contact. Since Green One and Green Five had returned to the Rebel super capital ship, the Majesty had been rising in the atmosphere along with Rogers’s rocket, close in pursuit. The Majesty was in the direct path of the boosters. Due to the carefully engineered steel armor and advanced shielding, the shells that have become of the rocket components would have done minimal damage, but the amenities made the event much more interesting. The amenities - armed and highly explosive warheads - had bypassed the warship’s shielding and destroyed its armor, breaching Majesty’s atmosphere.
The air had escaped through the breach, dramatically slowing the ship down while Rogers’s vessel continued to shoot into orbit around the earth-like planet. The ARF crew was eventually able to close off the breach by closing airtight doors nearest to it, but the Alliance’s crew had lost too much progress to bring the large vessel back up to speed that can match the rocket. Rogers would then be able to decouple his main thruster from the first stage and launch himself out of orbit. The series of events had infuriated General Delaney.
“Sir, shall we open fire?” suggested an engineer.
“NO!” Responded Delaney. “I want any available frigates to blockade the planet. Ensure that the captain does not escape!”
“Ha! Suckers,” remarked Rogers to himself. “Having a bigger ship doesn’t mean you have a bigger stick than the other guy.”
The fuel in the main rocket had been exhausted as the burn had made a successful orbit around the planet. The main rocket decoupled and drifted away from the vessel. There were explosives in that rocket as well, but chances are that the Rebels would alter their super capital ship’s course and avoid the warhead that has become of the thruster. The second stage much smaller and contained less fuel but it would suffice in getting out of orbit once the rocket has reached a periapsis. At the moment, Rogers would have to wait to reach the proper position.
Meanwhile, back at the Majesty, the general remained infuriated. The ARF ship was still in pursuit but Rogers had widened the gap between the two vessels. Launching ion propelled fighters in the vacuum of space would do little to modify the rockets course towards Majesty. Rogers had already gained far too much momentum for the light Rebel interceptors. The crew had contacted a small fleet of Stargazer-class frigates to the system so it would take little time for the spacecraft to arrive.
Rogers had reached the periapsis of his orbit. He burned his second stage fuel and increased his velocity rapidly as a result. His orbit was slowly becoming an orbital slingshot as his apoapsis was slowly increasing to a point where the planet’s gravity would not influence Rogers’s vessel. His jump drive would operate properly and warp him out of this vile system and to the Imperial capital of Titan. Soon after the burn, the second stage had ran out of fuel due the fewer hydrogen tanks feeding the thruster. Rogers detached the second stage and the manned capsule drifted off in through the cosmos.
“Well, it looks like I’m in the clear. I just-,” Rogers began, but was interrupted by the sudden flashes of light that indicated the arrival of three Rebel frigates. “Aw crap.”
One of the Rebel Stargazer frigates immediately contacted Rogers’s vessel. “Imperial spacecraft, do not alter your course and prepare to be docked. Any resistance will result in immediate annihilation.”
Ha! Yeah right. I’m far too valuable to be destroyed, Captain Rogers thought. However, one of the Stargazer frigates had fired a small capsule at Rogers’s pod.
Aw crap. Did I push the wrong button? Rogers pondered. The capsules had been directly headed toward the remaining component of Rogers’s rocket. The Imperial inside braced himself for collision, even though the capsule only slightly tapped the vessel. The payload the ARF had fired off at contained a gravity generator, magnets, and RCS thrusters. The capsule had slowed down enough so that its magnets could attach without causing damage. However, now there is a nearby gravitational presence, the captain’s jump drive would not function, leaving him captive to the terrorist presence. There may be no escape for him, unless…

Audio Log (Entry 27): “Rotation 30?”
Ok, I just ran the numbers.
So, according to my current trajectory, I am going to find myself right in the middle of the Rebel fleet in front of me. I will be captured, interrogated, and used as a means for these terrorists to win this war against the UEE. However, if I make a burn toward my prograde vector, I will have the velocity to escape the magnetic locks on those frigates. I’ll be home free, but the gravitational capsule will still be attached. That’s where the second, but rather dangerous part of my plan comes into place. If I burn long enough, I’ll launch my vessel into a gravitational slingshot around the Mars-like planet that just a million or so kilometers away. The G’s that slingshot will create will be well more than enough to rip the capsule’s magnetic locks off my vessel and through space while I escape the insurgencies. The downside of this is that the G’s will cause me to be knocked unconscious. I may be able to wake up after the flyby and engage my jump drive, but there is a chance I may not wake up at all. I can switch on my comms system and broadcast a distress message, but the Rebels may pick up on it like they did the last time. There’s also a chance that I’ll just drift off into empty space, using up the electricity that my reactor has to offer, and slowly die.
Well, at this point in time, I guess you only live once. Screw it!
***
The captain engaged the several large ion thrusters that mounted on his vessel. Since the small manned component of the rocket had so little mass and so little inertia, the ion thrusters were more than enough to allow Rogers to increase acceleration quickly. The ARF crews were shocked, wondering why the Imperial would commit such an act. They believed that moving at high velocity towards a planet would be suicide. They thought that the gravity would rip the vessel apart. Of course, their math was wrong since the Imperial captain was doing such, unless he was completely insane but that’s beside the point.
Rogers’s vessel quickly approached the orange planet. The gravity of it had already had a grasp on it to begin sending it into a slingshot. The G’s were already becoming increasingly intense. It had ripped of the gravitational capsule a third of the way through the slingshot, but Rogers had passed out halfway through while on the side of the Mars-like planet opposite to the Alliance Fleet. He wasn’t able to activate the jump drive as he exited his “Mars slingshot” and was launched to the third, distant, and most hostile planet of the system…

Entry 28: “Rotation 1”
God...I could sure use that beer right about now.

Entry 29: “Rotation 1” (2)
Okay, so we’re back where we started, marooned on a deserted planet with limited resources. Great. Fan-freaking-tastic. It’s almost like I was in this exact position 300 IGT hours ago (he he, sarcasm). I didn’t even get to flip off Bob like I planned. Man, it’s almost like there is one over lordly mind writing my life’s story as I go along, punishing me on desolate terrains for no justification; all just for fun.
So, like I did on planet Bob, I’m going to look out my viewing port and take observe the surrounding terrain. Firstly, my c***pit landed upright on its landing gears on a plain (yay). At least I don’t have to deal with another wreck. Secondly, I’m in a bowl of a valley. There are mountains surrounding my position with a small forests spotting the terrain and four rivers leading from the mountains down to a single, large lake. Thirdly, this is a completely alien planet. The trees have red leaves, the bushes’ purple, the mountain consist of an igneous rock that is clearly not granite, the lime-green grass is in the shapes of tubes rather than blades, and the bodies of water appear to be dense in arsenic, evidenced by the white bubbles on the shores. There are yellow streaks of methane gas streaking across the sky like cobwebs blocking the view of the planet’s large orange moon, further creating an alien feel on the planet. The planet is also drastically cold due to the solar system’s sun is distant compared to Bob and that Mars-like planet. I also think it is worth of note stating that this planet is much slightly bigger than Earth was. It feels that the gravitational pull of the planet is about ten percent more than Earth (1.1 G) of generations’ past.
I took a step outside with my EVA suit and helmet equipped, and I’m lucky for that common sense. After taking a sample of the surrounding atmosphere, I discovered that it is composed of twenty-five percent carbon dioxide, fifty percent arsenic pentafluoride, twelve and a half percent nitrogen, and twelve and a half percent methane. The abundance of arsenic pentafluoride is enough to kill me. Hell, I wouldn’t be able to breathe to begin with due to the lack of oxygen and abundance of carbon dioxide.
With that being said, I should stay inside this little shelter I have here. Actually, no. The oblivious person that I am didn’t realize that my oxygen tanks are almost depleted. Great. Now I have to find a source of oxygen where none exists in the atmosphere. What else can possibly go wrong?

Entry 30: “Rotation 1” (3)
So, I sampled the lake water. As I suspected, its arsenic. First of all, I can’t drink from it since it’ll kill me. Second of all, the oxygen generator will have a much more difficult time separating the oxygen atoms from the rest of the deadly solution. Third of all, it’s at almost boiling temperatures. Don’t ask me why. I’m a captain, not an astrophysicist. If my oxygen levels go critical, then I’m going to have a burdensome process of replenishing my supply, if I’m able to survive the shortage that is. Man, just about everything on this damn planet wants to kill me, and I haven’t been here for more than three hours! I’m really considering that over lordly author guy theory. Almost no chance that the series of events over the past month or so to just “happen.”

Entry 31: “Rotation 2”
Well, that’s not good.
I recorded the time from sundown to sunrise and it’s not pretty. The night was only about five hours long, making one planetary rotation about ten. Which means I can only use the sun’s rays for five hours before resorting to my suit’s power for illumination whenever I’m working outside. When that power is low, I’ll have to cut my work short and return to my base to recharge. Speaking of my base, I do have a nuclear reactor aboard, two solar photovoltaic panels, and a few batteries for electrical purposes. However, the uranium or other radioactive substance in the reactor will only last for so long and since there’s only five hours of daylight, recharging my batteries with only my solar panels will be difficult. I will be in a pretty major energy crisis since humans weren’t genetically designed to thrive on a hostile world like this.
By the way, what am I going to call this planet? Rob? No, to generic. Already done that. How about Hades? No, that one has already been taken by some other planet with a molten surface. What about Spawn of Satan. Yeah, that wraps up the description of this planet with a nice, pretty bow.
Anyway, to stay (somewhat) productive, I’m going to take my jet out and survey the planet and see what the eye can see. It’ll be better since I’ll know where I’ll have to retreat in the event in which I must. Recharging the batteries on the craft won’t be too troublesome when I return since it doesn’t take much charge to get the job done.

Entry 32: “Rotation 5”
So, the planet is about ten percent bigger than Earth was, with a circumference about 44082 kilometers. Going about 900 kilometers per hour, the entire trip took about forty-nine hours. Luckily, I was smart enough to bring along some spare water and food to survive so I wouldn’t die sixteen times over since a normal flight along the length of Earth’s circumference would take long enough for anyone to die of dehydration or starvation. After doing a few extra calculations, however, I discovered that the planet’s mass is only about 79,521,852,485,254 kilograms. That may seem like a big number, but Earth’s mass was 5,973,600,000,000,000,000,000,000 kilograms. That’s a pretty major difference, especially since that this planet is ten percent larger and has a ten percent faster acceleration than Earth, or at least it appears so. Reasoning for this is beyond me.
Unfortunately, the flight was fruitless. The entire planet, with the exception of the cirque where my vessel had landed, is mountains with the exception of a few thin valleys carved out by arsenic rivers. How tectonic plates would work in this fashion is beyond my knowledge, if there is tectonic plates beneath the surface. There may be useful resources located there, but the struggle of lifting the resources up and out would be troublesome, especially in a 1.1G environment. I’m still kind of surprised the VTOL capabilities of my L.A.S.T. jet is strong enough to lift the aircraft off the surface.
So, I might as well stay in the only cirque on the Spawn of Satan. If there are any resources there, I will take full advantage of them. If not, then I’m screwed. I need proper resources for the medical bay to produce the dusty food it has to offer. Since there is no oxygen in the atmosphere, I will need the proper rocks for the refinery to crush in order to produce freshwater for me. Any oxygen here is most likely locked in rocks if it’s not in the atmosphere. I also might be able to utilize that oxygen for breathing as well, depending on whether production units can convert the element into diatomic oxygen gas or if it already exists in a diatomic form. If worse comes to worse, I’ll use the arsenic water, but obviously my production units can’t convert the solution into oxygen as efficiently.
We’ll, I already wasted most of my battery in my fighter jet and I’m low on resources so I might as well go to work.

Entry 33: “Rotation 5” (2)
Uh oh. That’s not good.
I came back to base to find that it had tipped over. The vessel had also been spinning on the ground. Damn. Putting that thing back upright will be difficult on a planet with a gravitational pull ten percent stronger than Earth.
After landing my craft, I hopped out, entered the rocket c***pit, and accessed the programming log from its flight seat. Apparently, there were four great magnetic disturbances over the course of the past few rotations. It appears that the craft had done a complete 180 at the event of the magnetic anomaly. The basic programs had activated the ion thrusters, but considering their insignificant affect in an atmospheric environment with 1.1G, the entire vessel had tipped over. The damage isn’t too extensive, no breaches in its atmosphere. However, flipping the vessel back on its landing gears would be purposeless since it doesn’t even have the thrust to get off the ground to begin with and entering the structure from a sideways door isn’t too troublesome. I’ll leave it on its side for now, I just need to be aware of the structure spinning every ten hours due to the planet’s poles switching.

Entry 34: “Rotation 6”
Long story short, I lost my drill. Yeah, I know. It’s embarrassing.
Well, since I just about can’t do anything, I might as well tell the “anecdote.” So, I was mining at the base of one of the dark amaranth-colored mountains. After drilling a tunnel ten feet into the amaranth-colored stone, I had discovered that the entire mountain was a cave system. The entire interior was completely honeycombed and exhausted of any resources other than the somewhat thin supports of rock, as if carpenter ants had eaten the geological structure like wood. The lone survivor on the Spawn of Satan, that I am, had ventured deep into the caverns in curiosity until that human had felt a drastic increase in temperature. Even going just a few meters deep into the surface of a large, rocky planet shouldn’t have gotten as hot as it did. Suddenly, a deafening boom sounded as if an earthquake had occurred. The loud cracks and scrapes of rock upon rock were clearly audible. As I stood dumbfounded and completely still, red-hot magma came rushing up one end of the corridor I was in. Since an event such as that could knock anyone out of their stupor, I scrambled to get the hell out of there. I was sprinting as fast as possible in my EVA suit, but the molten rock followed just a few meters behind. I successfully found the entrance I had created, rushed my way through the tunnel, and got to a safe distance.
Once there, I turned around to gaze upon what would have been my tomb. The lava had rushed through my tunnel like a raging river. If I were to have stalled a few more moments in those caves, I would have been dead as the exit to Hell was within my reach. Curiosity had almost killed the cat. Going further up inside the peak would not have been pretty either. As I gazed, the entire mountain was collapsing under its own weight. The structure was cracking and splitting as it fell towards its foundations. Any human would have been easily crushed under the gravitational load of the several million kilogram boulders. Then, like the Fourth of July, the mountain’s entire foundation erupted with molten rock, engulfing what remained of the tall and proud peak. The light show only lasted a few seconds however. The low temperatures of the planet caused the lava to completely solidify as it began falling to the planet, reconstructing the mountain where it once stood. “Damn” was all I could get out.
Now, I know you’re wondering “Hey! Rogers! What happened to your drill?” Well, when I saw that molten rock first rushing towards me in the caverns, the butterfingered man that I am dropped the drill while scrambling to flee. Yeah, I know. Stupid. Losing that means losing any more resources that I could ever possibly gather, but hey, I’m looking on the bright side. That was a damn good firework show.
Well, I still collected some rocks before entering the mountain so I could still gain some oxygen in the tanks. How much is still the big question, but I’ll still have more than when I began. That’s the positive of the situation. I’ll head back to base and assess the situation. I need to plan out the future much more carefully now, especially due to the intense geological activity and my lack of a drill.

Entry 35: “Rotation 6” (2)
We’ll, there’s good news and bad news (how many of you are feeling a sense of nostalgia from the last planet I was on?).
So, the rocks I gathered contained a large amount of oxygen. That is extremely beneficial to my situation since the planet I’m on doesn’t have an atmosphere with an abundance of oxygen. However, after shoving a rock sample into the med bay, I can’t make food out of the stone since it contains “insufficient materials.” I’ll give you a hell of a lot more than “insufficient materials,” med bay. Now I’ll have to find some other source of food. I could try the wood of the trees or the branches of the bushes, but according to my basic knowledge of biology, any plant with leaves that doesn’t possess the color green doesn’t overdo the process of photosynthesis as often. That means it doesn’t produce the sugars I would need to survive. Also, since this is an alien planet, the sugars that it produces may be poisonous to puny humans. The suction tube grass may be edible since it is green. Well, I guess we’ll see what happens…

Entry 36: “Rotation 6” (3)
Well, crap.
After I flipped off the med bay’s computer monitor, the med bay had scanned the red-leaf tree wood, purple-leaf bush branch, and the suction tube grass only to bring up the phrase “insufficient materials” on the monitor. Eff my life.

Entry 37: “Rotation 7”
I was hiding in the corner of my base as the sun rose on the seventh rotation. The sight of what I just saw out the window would instill fear into the heart of any sentient being. The cave system inside that mountain wasn’t naturally occurring geological phenomena. Something ate its filthy innards, along with the rest of the Spawn of Satan resulting in a low planetary mass. That “something” were spiders. BIG spiders, like, three meters long and two meters wide (not including their appendages). Thousands of them swarming the mountain, and they are UGLY! Oh and by the way, “godly author person,” I don’t care if they’re not a spider because they have a head and a thorax rather than a cephalothorax, or if it has six limbs rather than eight, or their head composes of two eyes rather than eight, or they have sharpened triangular bones for a grin of teeth rather than two fangs, or they have a venom injecting stinger on their rear, or anything like that! IT’S A SPIDER, DAMN IT! SCREW YOU, AUTHOR DUDE!
Anyway...now I got that temper tantrum out of the way...I got to figure out how to deal with the “Spiders of Satan.” After watching these abominations, I’ve noticed that they burrow into “new” rocky structures and leave no trace of the entrance of those burrows until well out of sight, as far as I can tell. I can infer that they have been “collecting” or “consuming” any resource in those newly formed mountains. Whether they do it for nutrition or some other purpose is beyond me. However, their “mountain hollowing” action explain the bug-like catacombs of the mountain’s interior.
However, these large bug-like miners on this large planet aren’t the most docile creature to exist. The Spiders of Satan are clearly predatory. They don’t have sharp teeth for nothing. I think I saw a couple of them fighting for a spot to burrow into the mountain. The moral of the story is, I need protection. I don’t care whether they’re more dangerous than the Terminators on planet Bob, they are carnivores, they are predatory, and they probably would want me dead in their stomachs. Problem is, I barely have the resources to do so. I didn’t pack extra resources in my base’s cargo container to reduce the mass of the rocket in order to get off Bob and get the hell away from the Terminators. Now I’m questioning my decision to leave Bob at all since I lost my drill, I’m surrounded by spiders, and I’m living my last days on a distant alien planet that wants to kill me! I may have really screwed up this time.

Entry 38: “Rotation 8”
There was scratching on the door last night along with the nails-on-the-chalkboard bug screeching. It was most likely caused by the spiders. It’s a good thing I shut down the power to it due to my fears. However, it probably wouldn’t be long before they learn to pry the door open. I’m keeping my grinder close and helmet on from this point on.
***
Soon after the captain logged his entry, two blade-like legs slipped into the crack of the door and forced it open. The dense atmosphere of the planet had rushed into the less dense oxygen-based atmosphere of Rogers’s vessel, causing the steel plates that the vessel consisted of to rupture and forcing the oxygen into the hostile environment outside. That wasn’t the worst of his problems, however. That lied with the abomination that had crawled through the base’s doorway. A white Spider of Satan was within a few meters of Rogers, ready to attack.
The monstrosity lunged toward the Imperial with its powerful insect-like appendages, maw wide displaying the sharpened bones it had for teeth. Instinctively, Rogers brought down his grinder onto the creature’s head, countering the vile insect attack and bringing it to the floor. Rogers squeezed his finger against the tool’s trigger, activating it to bypass its “skull” exoskeleton and shred the brain. The action proved futile, unfortunately. The white chitin-like plating on the creature was formidable against the crude construction tool.
The spider-like organism reached out with its front-right leg and swung it inwards, knocking the lone survivor off his feet and onto his back. The alien was quick to get its thick blade-like legs under it to regain control over its own body. The spider pounced on top of Rogers ready to stab its prey with a stinger already soaked in venom. The captain rolled to the side as the vile creature drove the thorn into the steel floor. The stinger lodged into the metal, putting the spider into panic.
As the alien flailed its six limbs, screeching while trying to find a location for the greatest mechanical advantage to yank the venom-injecting stinger out of the floor, the Imperial saw the beast’s fatal flaw. The strong chitin-like plates had covered the animal completely with the exceptions of the animal’s joints and underside. The soft, orange flesh was completely exposed to attack. Rogers forced his weapon to where the abdomen and thorax connected. With the simple pull of the trigger, the spider’s screeches pierced the air and its green blood was splattering everywhere.
The creature was split in two as it gave its final death gurgle. While the abdomen was rolling away, the thorax had collapsed on top of Rogers. Since blood was gushing out of the spider’s wound, the body was losing its hydraulic pressure thus causing the six legs to curl and contract, trapping the human below it in a cage. The Imperial slowly grinded off appendages off their joints to escape the prison. Once free, Rogers looked down upon the lifeless carcass of his attacker then jumped up with both arms in the air celebrating. The moment was short-lived, however, since two more Spiders of Satan had crawled through the door.
The two abominations had seen the carcass of the white spider as they entered, but that didn’t stop one of them. The spider colored with black chitin plates began to lunge at Rogers, teeth bared like the first white creature, only to be tackled by the other brown spider. The black spider, who Rogers would later name Bad Black, regained control, shoved the brown alien off of him, and responded to the other native with a series of hisses, screeches, and clicks. The slightly larger brown spider, which would be called Big Brown, let out its own sequence of clicks, hisses, and screeches. They were clearly communicating, but were also distracted with each other. The lone Imperial saw this and took complete advantage of the situation. He snuck over to the farthest wall from the two “arguing” spiders and began slicing through the steel with his grinder. It was his only chance of escape, even though he may find no safety outside. His actions weren’t gone unnoticed for a long period of time. The sound of the metal being cut was clearly audible and quickly silenced the bickering, catching the attention of the two aliens.
Big Brown rushed toward the far wall. It had pulled Rogers off the wall while knocking the tool out of his hand with its two front appendages. Since Brown had no way to keep its grip on Rogers, the captain slipped out of its blade-like legs. He turned around to meet his foe, fists poised like a wrestler. The stance, however, was no match for the creature’s powerful charge. The lone Imperial found himself flat on his back with Big Brown at his feet. Bad Black had leapt to Brown’s side, bit down on Rogers’s boot, and began dragging him to the shelter’s exit. After realizing what was happening, Rogers began kicking Black’s head with his other foot. The attack on the black spider was futile due to the protective armor covering the creature’s head. Quickly becoming aware of this, the captain sat up and jammed his thumb into Black’s right lidless eye. The alien released its iron grip and let out an ear-piercing shriek that Rogers’s helmet provided no protection for, causing the Imperial to sprawl across the floor holding his helmet where his ears would have been. When Black silenced itself, Rogers sat up and inspected his right boot for any punctures. Being exposed to the planet’s toxic atmosphere would kill him within minutes. Before he completed his search, Big Brown pinned his chest down to the floor with one of its legs. The captain was able to throw a few more punches and kicks while adrenaline was flowing through his veins until his arms and legs were pinned down as well. Not tolerating Rogers’s resistance anymore, Brown thrust down its abdomen vigorously, pierced through the EVA suit, and injected its lethal venom into Rogers’s body. Within seconds, Rogers’s limbs went limp and his vision was consumed by darkness...

“I’m going to need something much stronger than a beer,” said Rogers to himself.
Rogers had woken up on a hospital bed, clothed in a t-shirt and shorts, in what looked like an intensive care unit. It consisted of only the one bed, a window, a small table, and the door. The room was small and styled with a blinding white color intensified by the bright lights in the ceiling. Despite the fact that he was sore from head to toe, Rogers sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. The Imperial immediately felt the low gravity when he sat up, the exact acceleration he was familiar with. This moon had the same gravitational acceleration as Titan, the United Earth Empire capital. He skipped over to the window in curiosity, seeing if somehow he had arrived home. That hope was killed in a matter of seconds. The view of the window only offered the sight of the moon he was upon and the planet, the Spawn of Satan at the horizon of the orange-colored celestial body illuminated by the system’s sun. Highways of the Spiders of Satan were marching across the dunes. No, not exactly like the spiders on the planet below. They had eight legs, possessed three rows of spines running down their backs, and were much larger to compensate for the low gravity. They were also completely lime-green, creating a great contrast with the sands below. It can be inferred that this breed of arachnid-like aliens had never been the prey of fearsome predators since process of natural selection did not require these spiders to be camouflaged like their cousins on the Spawn of Satan, but spikes for protection from other spiders. What ferocious predator that feasted upon the flesh of the large bugs Rogers could not imagine, nor did he wish to think about it. If giant spiders were able to swarm him with a lethal arsenal like blade-like appendages, sharpened bones for teeth, and a venom injecting stinger, a larger predator would be a force to be reckoned with. He still didn’t know how he survived the Spiders of Satan to begin with, if he was alive at all. For all Rogers knew, this was a dream, a near death experience, or he was already dead and his pitiful soul was banished to this place.
“Welcome to Outcast,” said a deep, non-menacing voice.
Rogers spun around on the balls of his feet. There was a small chair that he somehow didn’t notice when he got up. In that chair was a tall, blue human being with a set of gills and webbed fingers reading documents on an electronic data-pad. The dark green jacket and jeans he wore revealed his identity in an instant. It was at that point that Rogers knew he was dreaming, because his current situation had just become a nightmare…
“Aw f***,” responded Rogers to no one in particular.
“I can see that you are not as presumptuous as when we met over Analyst,” replied Delaney, eyes still glued to his electronic device. “Everything is on schedule and going according to plan, Captain.”
“Can you do us all a favor and f*** off? Please? I just had enough of you and the rest of your terrorists when I left planet Bob.”
“We shall depart in time, Captain. Our men are currently making the final preparations. What you witnessed over “Bob” was just the beginning. This meaningless war shall end soon enough for the both of us.”
“Yeah, right. You and what army?”
Delaney gestured to the window with his right hand, still scanning over the information the data-pad had to offer. The viewing port provided the scene of hives of spiders travelling along the landscape to an unknown destination.
“Oh yeah. Forgot about that,” said Rogers, undoubtedly defeated.
“Yes. Those beings are quite formidable. It’s unfortunate that we couldn’t persuade all of them on the planet below to join our cause. You were lucky that one of the natives had sedated you with just a small dose of its venom before the others could get to your soul. The other two, according to Omicron Brown-257, were Wild. They wanted you dead. The local beetles and valuable minerals don’t provide as much nutrition for them as your body would have.”
“I’m kind of wishing they have killed me. The “Wild” seem to have mercy on tortured humans surviving on depleting resources. It’s a shame. I kind of wished that the wild Bad Black put me out of my misery.”
“Ah yes. The Wild. A large-scale civil war, if you will, has taken place on the planet since the Alliance’s arrival to this system. Half of them have pledged themselves to the ARF whilst the others, the Wild, remain loyal to the bidding of their Queens despite the fact that they are doomed to an apocalypse of the planet’s predatory cavern dragons. The billions of arachnids have fought and spilled blood of their brethren, reducing our usable quantity for battle. We’re lucky that the Queens native to Outcast unanimously vowed to serve us, ensuring us the use of their hardy and durable spawn.”
“Yeah, yeah. Blah, Blah. Can you please kill me now?”
“You are invaluable to us in every possible way, Captain. Executing a mighty Imperial captain would be the last thing I would do. First, I wish to show you something,” the Promethean sat up from his chair, leaving his data-pad in the seat. The tall being walked over to the wall that was in front of him. A section of it had slid open as he approached, revealing a closet containing Rogers’s EVA suit. He grabbed it and gestured to Rogers, who was standing at the opposite end of the room, to approach and repossess his items. “I would be honored if you would accompany me.”
The Imperial slowly skipped toward the alien, thinking about his next move. Delaney kept an ear-to-ear smile, displaying his white teeth as a sign of kindness. However, Rogers knew that terrorists could not be trusted. This Rebel should be imprisoned, and possibly executed, for his crimes against the security of a peaceful Empire. Rogers’s look of disdain was clear as he reached the Promethean who kept his haunting grin.
“If you will,” said Delaney, handing the suit to Rogers.
“Well, how about this!” Rogers threw a punch at Delaney’s gut with as much force as humanly possible. The strike would have caused a human to double over and regurgitate their stomach’s contents. However, the hide, muscles, and skeletal structure was much sturdier than that of tiny humans. Every bone in Rogers’s fist had shattered upon impact. The Imperial collapsed to the floor, holding his and while he writhed and cried out in agony.
Delaney knew that this captain wouldn’t be subdued without some resistance. As he watched the survivor of Peacemaker squirm on the floor, the Promethean pitied him by pulling out a syringe full of a teal-colored serum and injecting it into the human’s arm. The newly introduced substance in Rogers’s body had relaxed the agitated nerves and quickly reconstructed the broken bones. Rogers suspected that the “medicine” was Delaney’s own blood since Promethean fluids are known for their regenerative capabilities.
Once the pain was extinguished in the human’s body, Rogers stood himself back up, ignoring Delaney’s outstretched helping hand. He quickly took his EVA suit from the alien with a forced “fine.” After quickly equipping the suit and helmet, he looked up toward the Promethean, arms crossed, for further instructions. After the agonizing lesson of the inability to dominate the ARF general, he would have to do as he is ordered.
Delaney gestured for Rogers to follow as he began walking toward the room’s door. The room’s exit slid open to reveal another door behind it, suggesting that the area was an airlock. Once inside the airlock, the door behind the two shut, the room was depressurized of oxygen, and the door in front of them slid open, allowing the methane atmosphere to rush in. The sight before Rogers clearly was no hospitable establishment. The Rebels have established a construction facility on the Titan-like moon.
The airlock had opened up to an observation platform overlooking a large crater. Swarms of the green spiders of Outcast were advancing down the slopes of the geological structure and transports were deploying spiders from the Spawn of Satan, which were equipped with some kind of respiratory device on their abdomen to prevent suffocation. All had the same destination, a steel edifice nearing completion. A second super capital ship.
There were dozens of humanoids welding the ship together, both human and alien. They were constantly being supplied by both breeds of the Spiders of Satan. Like an assembly line, the six and eight legged creatures approached one of the humanoid construction workers, vomited up construction components, and crawled back to whence it came. What fascinated Rogers was the fact that the bug-like creatures were regurgitating the required parts for a technological brute such as a super capital ship. He realized that the spiders’ stomach were capable of refining minerals. The Spiders of Satan were mobile production plants. “Jesus…” was all that could slip out of Rogers’s lips.
“Yes,” replied Delaney, somehow hearing the Imperial’s remark from an insulated helmet. “The arachnids are very resourceful to our cause. Not only are they satisfactory in combat, they are excellent in the construction branch of our cause. Their large numbers and ability to create components on the move cuts the time for constructing our ships to a quarter of what it would be in an industrialized shipyard.”
“Jesus…” remarked Rogers again.
“I have an offer to make with you,” said the Promethean. Rogers didn’t reply since he was still leaning against the platform’s railing, gazing in astonishment as the large vessel was a few moments away from completion, so Delaney continued. “I would like to enlist you to the Alliance to Restore a Federation as grand admiral.”
This had caught the Imperial’s attention. Rogers spun to face the general adjacent to him, but was unable to speak due to his surprise.
“Understand my deal, Captain. You are one of the highest leaders in the UEE Navy. You understand their tactics. You can defeat the evil you have been serving. Captain, you have proven your strength against our cyber wolf test subjects and large ferocious arachnids. Together, we can bring order to the Milky Way Galaxy!”
There was a long silence as Rogers processed what the Promethean had said. The Peacemaker survivor stared blankly at the general while the super capital ship identical to Majesty was powering up before them. He could betray the government he had served for over a decade, or remain a captive among terrorists.
“Not today!” Rogers shouted. He swung back his leg then kicked it forward. He used the low gravity to his advantage to spring up and connect his foot with Delaney’s groin. Again, the attack on the Promethean was futile due to his durable organic matter, leaving Delaney unharmed but Rogers with a stubbed toe.
“So much potential,” Delaney said wistfully as Rogers shook the pain out of his toe. “Then you shall be the hostage of the Alliance until further notice. We can’t have a foe release the information concerning the weakness of our legions.”
Delaney began walking toward a stairway heading downward located to the side of the platform that Rogers hadn’t noticed. The Imperial was about to say something sarcastic like “what weakness” or “where do you think you’re going, bub” when he received company. He was quickly surrounded by two humanoid Artemi in EVA suits that had sprinted up the stairs, and two spiders, one of Outcast and the other Rogers recognized as Big Brown equipped with a respiratory device like the others brought from its planet. Plasma guns were aimed and teeth were bared. The ARF wasn’t taking any chances with an Imperial that had survived a crash and two planets.
“Hey, fellas,” began Rogers. “You guys want to go for a beer?”
Clearly unamused, one the fox-like Artemi fired a warning shot from his rifle. Rogers raised his hands up in surrender after stumbling due to the surprise of the fired plasma shot. The green Spider of Satan crawled behind Rogers and nudged him toward the stairway. Getting the message, he began walking. The two Artemi stayed in front of him while the two spiders behind as they made their way down the stairs and across a catwalk toward the ARF capital ship, whose engines began firing off and kicking up dust in the process as the crew prepared to depart.
“So,” Rogers began to the Artemi. “How’s your day today.”
“Shut up,” barked one. “All you need to know is that you’re being imprisoned on Elegance.”
“God. Didn’t know Artemi could be so pouty.”
“SHUT UP!” The fox-like alien spun around and slammed the butt of his rifle into the glass of Rogers’s helmet, cracking it. The hiss of Rogers’s suit could be heard, which meant his suit had begun depressurizing. The lone survivor remained silent for the rest of the trip.
The catwalk had led to a door on the super capital ship. The other Aremi that hasn’t been causing Rogers any harm skipped over to the door’s control panel. With the push of a few buttons, the door slid open. The five entered a large airlock, where a sensor upon a robotic arm extended from the ceiling and scanned each individual with its red “eye.” After scanning Rogers, the arm retracted and a female automated voice said “discrepancy detected, access denied.”
One of the Artemi, Rogers couldn’t tell which because their backs were behind him, responded quickly. “Unidentified subject is a prisoner, overruled by Artemi-591.”
“Discrepancy cleared,” replied the automated voice.
Two other robotic arms extended from the ceiling, equipping the large green Outcast spider’s abdomen with a respiratory device similar to Big Brown’s. It was most likely filled with the atmosphere of the moon they stood upon. When the arms retracted and the room began pressurizing with some other gas, the two Artemi unequipped their helmets. The fox-like aliens of the jungle world of Artemis had an oxygen rich atmosphere similar to Earth’s. Rogers followed suite, knowing that he wouldn’t suffocate.
When the other door of the airlock opened, the five began moving again into the corridors of Elegance. Upon entering the ship, Rogers could feel the artificial gravity take hold, creating one G of gravity which was much easier to walk in. The Imperial noticed the green spider have some difficulty adjusting to its increased weight due to the artificial gravity, but overall became accustomed to the steel environment. The hallways consisted of heavy traffic of humans, sentient aliens, and the two breeds of the Spiders of Satan alike, all rushing to their positions on the vessel. Rogers could only focus on the two humanoids in front of him to prevent getting motion sick. He was relieved when they had reached the stairway to the containment block.
They only had to walk up two flights of stairs before reaching the second story of the several hundreds of corridors encased in the ship. They had entered another corridor, only this one was devoid of any life. Rogers hesitated, but continued moving when one of the spiders had forcefully nudged him. What caught the Imperial’s interest was that the corridor was lined in cryo chambers rather than prison cells. Cryo chambers were designed to encase a human or any humanoid alien in subzero temperatures rapidly to preserve them on long journeys and release them when the user programed it to. The technology is mostly obsolete since the invention of the jump drive. The only reason anyone would use it is if they are on a mining expedition to an asteroid field and using a wormhole to travel there would be too dangerous. The Rebels are obviously going to use them as a prison cell for Rogers, just when they will release him is what frightened the survivor.
They stopped at one halfway down the hallway. The Artemi that had cracked his helmet pushed a single button on the cryo chamber control panel, not bothering to set a “wake up” date.
“In you go,” the humanoid fox said, gesturing to the interior of the body-freezing cell.
Rogers hesitated with the fear of his fate, but slowly approached knowing there were no other choices. The Artemi were smiling deathly grins as the Imperial had entered the chamber, the steam of liquid nitrogen already beginning to consume him. This was it, as far as Rogers knew. The United Earth Empire would have fallen under the wrath of just two super capital ships and the swarms of infantry. This was the end of the galaxy as Rogers knew it.
Suddenly, two pikes shot through the mist, wrapped around the Peacemaker survivor, and jerked him out of the freezing prison cell. He was thrown to the floor, dropping his helmet banging his head in the process temporarily blurry vision. Rifles could be heard clanging against the metal floor and the screams of the Artemi becoming muffled as the cryo chamber doors began to close. The hisses and screeches of the two spiders ripped through the air along with the clanging of their blade-like legs shifted across the floor. When Rogers’s vision came into focus, the next thing he could see was the green head of a spider rolling up next to his.

The Imperial sat up, massaging his eyes. Big Brown was standing just a meter away from him, along with the decapitated carcass of the green Spider of Satan, in a non-threatening pose. If was more of a curious gesture, rather. Understanding that Brown meant Rogers no harm, he stood up. The Spider of Satan just held its ground, observing the Imperial as he regained his balance. The two locked eyes, as if telepathically communicating with each other. After the long moments passed, Big Brown screeched and ran to the corridor’s entrance, but waited for Rogers. Brown clearly had a plan. The survivor quickly grabbed up one of the dropped plasma rifles, retrieved his helmet, and followed the arachnid.
The two scrambled down the stairs and back to the now empty corridor where they had come. This time however, Brown continued to run down the corridor, past the Elegance’s entrance, on his six appendages. Rogers followed, no questions asked. If Big Brown was willing to betray its fellow terrorists, then this Spider of Satan was his best bet of survival.
After a two mile sprint, the unlikely friends had made it to a door separating the ship’s midsection. It was guarded by two spiders native to the Spawn of Satan, evidenced by their six legs, various colors, and lack of spines on their back. Big Brown approached the two with hisses and clicks. The two responded, in an understanding manner, and allowed the Brown and Rogers to enter Elegance’s midsection, the assembly hangar. Since Elegance had taken off from a low gravity moon, it was already in orbit around its home planet, in a complete vacuum. Taking off in any transport, except atmospheric transports, would be effortless. There were four different assembly-line hangar bays on Elegance, like Majesty. One constructed ion propelled fighters, one atmospheric jets, another a hybrid bomber, and the last a large (for a small ship) colonizer vessel. The colonizer vessel was the ideal since it was equipped with atmospheric turbines when landing on a celestial body and hydrogen thrusters for rapid increases in acceleration. It also had a jump drive for travel amongst the stars. Brown was clearly leading Rogers to the hangar housing the colonizers.
Upon entering the hangar, there were four colonizer vessels docked. He only needed one to escape. However, why was Big Brown helping him escape? Delaney had said that the Wild that did not join the ARF were doomed to being preyed on by cavern dragons. Rogers had believed that those who did pledge simply did not wish to suffer such a fate. He knew that Delaney could not be trusted, but the explanation did sound plausible. Unless there was a larger plot among the natives of the Spawn of Satan, the Imperial had no knowledge of their intentions.
Rogers’s line of thought was interrupted by the gentle nudge from Brown. The spider clearly wanted Rogers to depart as soon as possible. The sooner he left, the less likely that the Rebels will discover that he is missing. Getting the message, the Imperial sprang over to the ship closest to the hangar door. A motion sensor on the vessel tripped and lowered a boarding ramp as Rogers approached. He gave his arachnid rescuer one last look before he entered his escape vessel. Big Brown gave the captain a slight nod then turned around and exited the hangar.
The Imperial put his helmet on and sprinted up the ramp. Rogers threw his rifle to the side as he made his way to the vessel’s flight seat. Strapping himself in, he electronically shut the boarding ramp and powered up the colonizer. Rogers knew, at this point, that the terrorists would have detected the activation of the ship, so he had to work quickly. He just needed to connect to Elegance’s control panel with the colonizer’s antenna to depressurize the hangar electronically, which would delay him greatly since depressurizing a large room would take an extended period of time. He just hopped that there was enough of it to get the hell out of there. At least the small screens on the flight seat displayed the depressurization progress to give the Imperial some moral support.
***
“Sir, we have an unauthorized engine ignition in Hangar D,” reported a human ARF engineer from his station.
“How did Rogers best two alien arachnids and two Artemi?” demanded General Delaney. “Send a squad to the hangars and to the cryo bay, suited up. I want to know what happened.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the engineer.
***
Depressurization progress: twenty-five percent.
***
“Delaney,” reported an Artemi soldier from his radio. “I found the Outcast native decapitated and the two of us in the cryo chamber. No sign of Omicron Brown-257.”
“Damn,” whispered the Promethean general to himself.
“Scratch that, General,” called in a human soldier. “I found Omicron Brown-257 starting a skirmish with the guards. We’re breaking the fight up now.”
***
Depressurization progress: fifty percent.
***
“We have broken up the fight, sir,” said the human soldier over his radio. “Breaching the hangars now. Shut the door behind us, lieutenant.”
“I WANT THAT IMPERIAL NOW!” Ordered the General.
***
Depressurization progress: seventy-five percent.
***
“The door’s locked out. Shoot it down!” Ordered the human soldier. “Delaney’s have our skins! Let’s go!”
The sliding, airtight door was no match for the heat of plasma bolts. The door gave way with a small explosion after the barrage the ARF soldiers gave it. The militants stormed the hangar, finding a colonizer vessel about to take off.
***
Depressurization progress: twenty-five percent.
What the hell? Rogers thought. Out of the corner of his eye. He saw the light show of the door being blown down and soldiers rushing the room. The air from the central hangar access area had rushed in along with the troops, increasing the duration of the depressurization process.
Aw, screw it. With the push of a few buttons, the phrase “opening hangar door” appeared on the displays. The remaining air began rushing out as the hangar door opened. The humans and humanoid aliens that had charged into the room were swept off their feet and pulled into the vacuum of space. They were still alive as they floated through the nothingness of space, just banished to an experience worse than Hell until they choke on their exhaled carbon dioxide. Rogers’s ship remained stationary during the series of events due to the strength of the connectors’ magnetic locks.
Depressurization progress: one hundred percent.
Yeah. No kidding. Rogers disengaged the connector’s magnetic locks, engage the hydrogen thrusters, and then shot out the hangar bay. Since the hangar entrances were facing toward the stern, for obvious strategic purposes, Rogers quickly widened the gap between Elegance and himself as they travelled in opposite directions. The Imperial continued to increase his acceleration, attempting to launch himself out of orbit. He was home-free, until Elegance opened fire on his vessel.
It can be inferred that General Delaney had been informed of the survivor’s escape. Enraged, he gave the order to blast Rogers out of existence. Fortunately for Rogers, the ARF gunners had “Stormtrooper aim.” Plasma bolts from the super capital ship’s heavy turrets were being fired in the general direction of the escaped Imperial, but wouldn’t be able to hit the broadside of a barn. Even when the fired shots got remotely close to Rogers’s vessel, the Imperial only had to do small maneuvers to avoid them.
Sucks to suck, Rogers thought to himself.

Delaney was infuriated. He gazed out the bridge’s rear viewing port only to witness Rogers further distance himself from Elegance. The attempt to kill him with the ship’s turrets was fruitless. A human engineer had approached the general, attempting to calm his leader. The human faced the fury an angered Promethean soon after. Delaney had turned around and punched the puny being square in the face. The engineer was sent flying across the bridge, crashing down twenty meters away. He would never walk again.
“CAN WE SLOW DOWN?” asked the Promethean.
“No, sir,” responded an Artemi engineer.
“LAUNCH FIGHTERS! BRING HIM BACK HERE, DEAD OR ALIVE!”
“The prisoner gained too much ground, sir.”
“Order Majesty to intercept,” commanded Delaney, calming down as he released a sigh. “It’s impossible for him to evade her.”
***
“See you later, suckers!” Rogers hollered to the Rebels even though it was impossible for them to hear him. He continued to burn fuel to his prograde, increasing his acceleration. It would just be a few minutes before he was launched out of the gravitational field of influence of the Spawn of Satan and was able to instantly travel to the UEE capital of Titan. However, Rogers did feel a sense of nostalgia since he was in a similar position over eighty IGT hours ago. He still was going to take his chances nonetheless.
Rogers’s senses had served him well. Just on the horizon of the planet, Majesty had been rising through the yellow-tinted atmosphere from the rocky surface to Rogers’s left side. Why the large vessel had landed on the planet’s unsavory surface was beyond Rogers’s thought or reasoning. Either it was waiting there for Rogers’s arrival or it was up to some other devilry. That didn’t matter at the moment, however. What did matter was how to survive the encounter with the other super capital ship. Chances are that the terrorists would scramble all available fighters to intercept him. His vessel was armed with a rocket launcher to resist the incoming hostiles, but the Imperial wanted to make this a little interesting.
Once the ship had breached the atmosphere, it began launching fighters by the dozens. The Rebel interceptors quickly approached Rogers’s craft, since the Imperial was moving towards them. The fighters attempted to communicate with the Imperial piloting the transport rather than open fire upon it. Their main mission was to escort the colonizer to Majesty since Rogers is more valuable to the Alliance alive than dead.
“Colonizer Frigate, this is Green Nine. We ask you to cooperate with us as we escort you to Majesty. Cooperate or we will open fire.”
Rogers didn’t answer.
“Cooperate or we will open fire,” repeated Green Nine.
“Why, hello there,” responded the Imperial. “Now, what happens if I tell you to go have sex with yourselves? Does that fall in the category of ‘not cooperating’?”
One of the fighters fired of a few warning shots.
“Ha! You would do me a huge favor if you shot me down right now,” Rogers continued. “Here’s my thinking, I’ll make it through this alive on my own terms. If not, then you Rebels can put me out of my misery.”
“Elegance,” began Green Nine. “Did you read that?”
“I heard it loud and clear,” replied Delaney. “You heard the scum. Blow him out of the sky.”
The fighters began to assemble in an attack pattern behind the colonizer vessel. Plasma guns were primed. Missiles were armed. Despite what Rogers had just said, the will to survive still had a strong hold on him. He attempted to maneuver his ship out of the enemy's line of fire, but his vessel had too much inertia and their nimble fighter can correct their course easily. He could try to spin around, but the ARF pilots would see it coming from a kilometer away. This was it for the Imperial that had survived so much, again.
All of a sudden, a light show of sparks and flashes appeared to his right side. A large fleet had appeared just a few kilometers away obstructing the starry view above the hostile planet. Rogers could tell immediately that this wasn’t a fleet consisting of simple ships the ARF had constructed. This was made up of sophisticated Imperial warships. The several proud Invader-class, the dozens of heavily armed but poorly armored Arrow-class, the numerous artillery-like Devastator-class, the abundance of the supporting Conqueror-class, the plentiful battleship-carrier hybrid that were the L.A.S.T. frigates, all of them began raining their firepower down upon the Rebel scum. The Rebel fighters began exploding like popcorn around Rogers as they were struck by a bolt of plasma or a destructive missile. The remaining fighters scrambled attempting not to get caught in the crossfire. Majesty, who had remained rather uninvolved, began opening fire upon the Imperial fleet.
“Don’t worry, Captain!” Admiral Vex said over the radio to Rogers. “We’re coming for you!”
“I knew I could count on you bastards!” Replied Rogers.
“What can I say? It would take the entire Imperial Navy to produce a signal that these two Rebel capital ships are producing. Plus, it’s unlike you to be two hours behind schedule.”
“TWO HOURS!”
“Yeah? Why?”
“IT’S BEEN OVER 280, DING DONG!
“Goddamn relativity.”
“Yeah! No crap!”
“Sorry, Cap.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just tell Scotty to beam me up!”
The two officers of the Empire laughed humorously despite all of the death and destruction occurring around them. The two were the happiest men in the galaxy since they have been reunited.
***
“What the hell are they doing?” Demanded Delaney. “Why they should be destroying that goddamn Imperial.”
“Sir, a large Imperial fleet has jumped into the system,” reported an Artemi engineer. “They are in orbit around the planet. They’re most likely rescuing the escaped hostage.”
“ALL THE MORE REASON HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN DESTROYED!” Delaney brought his fist down onto one of the bridge’s control panels, sending sparks flying as it was destroyed. Slowly, the Promethean regained control of his anger. “Save our resources for when we regroup with Majesty. I want to have the clear advantage for when we strike.”
“Yes, sir.”
***
Vex had dispatched a squadron of fighters to retrieve Rogers. The agile Viper-class ripped through space and intercepted Rogers’s vessel. There were only a few Rebel fighters still in flight, but one can never have too much protection. The Imperial fighters escorted the colonizer vessel as it turned ninety degrees and began to accelerate towards the Imperial fleet. The proud capital ships were under fire from Elegance, bombarded in fact, but it would require much more firepower to rip apart the engineering of Enceladus and Titan.
The squadrons consisting of the Viper-class fighters and Rogers’s vessel had approached the hangar of Invader-class Journeyer. Slowly, they ships had entered and lowered themselves onto the floor. The hangar door began to shut behind the pilots, creating an airtight seal. The hangar pressurized and the interior hangar access door opened, allowing the admiral and his men to greet the Peacemaker survivor. All of the men were cheering as the captain walked down the colonizer’s boarding ramp. He was being greeted with hugs and friendly punches to the arm. The pilots from the fighters jumped out of their c***pits to join in.
“Hey everyone. Hey!” Rogers began. The crowds surrounding him fell into silence, obeying his commands. “Beers are on me!”
The crew began cheering again, louder than before. Smiles could be seen across the human and alien faces. Fists were being thrusted in the air as celebration. Rogers made his way through the crowd as he was being patted on the back and gently punched. The human captain eventually found Vex at the back of the crowd. The two greeted each other with strong bear hugs, unlike their typical handshake or salute.
The two officers pulled away from each other, but still held their grip. “It’s good to have you back, buddy,” acknowledged the admiral. “It was getting a little boring without you!”
“I could say the same for you,” Rogers replied. The two released loud chuckles. “Just one question. Two, rather.”
“Anything, Captain.”
“I documented what happened over the past week or two, just out of habit from training concerning the Imperial code. Do you think—?”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll get those files when we win this war. It’ll probably be a good read, too. You might be able to publish that for the Imperial academies. You could call it something stupid like Captain’s Log!”
“Funny. Anyway, how did you know which ship not to shoot?”
“Imperial training at its finest,” said Vex, however Rogers gave the admiral a questioning look. “Oh, come on, Cap. Only you are stupid enough to take a slow-a** cargo vessel.” The two friends laughed again.
“Now get us the hell out of here. I owe everyone a beer.”
***
The crew returned to their stations to prepare for the jump to Titan. After strapping themselves in, the engineers began to power up the jump drives. With a fireworks display of sparks and bright flashes, Journeyer warped through a wormhole it had created and was brought back to the Imperial capital. The rest of the fleet followed suit, gone within a few flashes, leaving the Rebel capital ship in defeat. The Empire has succeeded, for now…

A shuttle brought the two officers aboard the Invader-class star cruiser down to the surface of Titan. The craft had landed down at the Congress building’s landing platform. The war against widespread terrorists was troublesome enough, but what Rogers had witnessed will completely change the War against the Alliance to Restore a Federation. It was Imperial code to report such information to Congress immediately. The UEE has learned over the centuries that the sooner the Imperial Congress and the Supreme Emperor was informed of vital information, the more likely the Empire will continue to thrive.
“How the hell did feeble terrorists construct two super capital ships?” asked Vex over the EVA suit’s radio as the two commanders walked down the shuttle’s boarding ramp. Due to artificial gravity generators surrounding and within the vicinity, any humanoid would be able to walk rather than skip in low gravity. “Especially during a short amount of time when we had just about weeded them out. How?”
“They have more than humanoid aliens at their arsenal, Admiral,” responded the Captain. “They have legions. Legions of ugly-a** spiders. Bigger than you or I and armed with lethal biological weapons. Their stomachs like refineries. Hordes of them are capable of constructing warships faster than the advanced shipyards of Enceladus!”
“Then time is of the essence. The Emperor must be informed.”
The two continued to walk towards the Congress room’s airlock entrance. The two suited guards that stood watch at the airlock crossed into the military commanders’ paths.
“No firearms are permitted in government buildings,” said one, gesturing to the plasma pistol Vex had at his side. The admiral had always carried the weapon both for promotional purposes and practical use in battle. Rogers never saw the need to keep one since he had always was within the protection of Peacemaker. “For the safety of the Representatives of the United Earth Empire, turn over your arms.”
“So much for the Second Amendment,” stated Vex, reluctantly handing his pistol to the guard.
With that, the guards stepped off to either side, allowing the officers to pass. Vex and Rogers entered the airlock as the external door behind them closed and the room was pressurized with oxygen. The two removed their EVA helmets, clipped them to their belts, and walked through the airlock’s internal door as it opened before them into a long corridor to the assembly room.
“Anyway, hopefully this Congressional assembly will pass swiftly,” the admiral began. “Sooner this is over, the sooner we can crush the Rebels.”
“You said it, Admiral,” responded Rogers.
The two human officers continued to walk down the hallway until arriving at the dish shaped Congressional Assembly Room. The natural sunlight from the large windowed ceiling illuminated the Representatives. The Congressmen consisting of all races known to the empire, five for each home world, could be heard whispering to each other as they awaited for the Emperor. The Congressional session will begin once the Empire’s leader has arrived. Rogers and Vex took the stairs adjacent to the corridors exit towards the seats dedicated to the human race. Utilizing the extra chairs near the five human Representatives, the two friends had already slouched in their seats due to the boredom that hadn’t even begun.
“This is going to suck,” stated the captain.
“Yep,” agreed the admiral.
***
It took twenty minutes more minutes for the Emperor to arrive. A figure cloaked in a black hooded robe had walked down one of the several corridors and made its way to the center of the house of Congress, leaning on its cane. Very few people had seen the Emperor under the hood. Those that have said he was a complete human skeleton with just a few muscles holding him together. Some say that he was banished from death by Satan himself to suffer a life worse than death as his body rotted away. Others say he was exposed to a parasite or some hostile environment that had destroyed most of his flesh, but somehow leaving the bones undamaged. Nonetheless, this being had served as the Supreme Emperor of the United Earth Empire for centuries and lead the government to glory.
“Greetings, Representatives of the United Earth Empire,” said the cloaked figure in a deep, slow, throaty, ghostly voice. “We have gathered here today to discuss the State of the War against our enemy, the Alliance to Restore a Federation. Our Navy officer, Captain Rogers Thoron, shall speak on our behalf.”
Here goes nothing, Rogers thought to himself. The captain stood up to testify to Congress.
“Objection!” Interrupted an alien representative from the opposite side of the building. All eyes were on the tree-like Demeteri of the fertile, freshwater world of Demeter. “I would like to state that our people believe that the War on the Alliance is purposeless. What information shall this captain provide that will gain us more than we currently have? What shall the Empire gain if the war is to be won?”
“I agree,” stated an Artemi. “More and more of our citizens have sworn themselves to your ‘terrorists.’ They believe that more shall be gained if systems ally themselves to the ARF. They also say that the war cannot be won and will cost this Empire all of its resources. Some even say that our home world should secede from this government.”
“Nonsense!” Cried out one of the warmongering lizard-like Athenans. “We shall gain respect, security, and prosperity after the defeat of the Rebels. Seceding will gain you nothing but foul decay, like when Prometheus had.”
Jesus, this is more boring than the Star Wars prequel trilogy, Rogers thought.
“The Empire must be preserved!” Yelled out the human Representative next to the two military officials as he stood up. “If we stand down we shall be destroyed!”
The other four human Congressmen cheered out in agreement. The Representatives of other systems had joined in to support. The delegates had seemed excited to attempt to preserve the Empire, but Vex and Rogers barely held up heavy eyelids due to the monotony of Imperial Government. Despite government being central to the Imperial system, the officers had another method to preserve the UEE. To them, preserving the Empire was “having a bigger gun than the other guy.”
***
A medium-sized cargo transport was lowering through Titan’s atmosphere. It was approaching the Congress building’s landing platform. The two stationed guards took a glance at each other in confusion. As the craft landed, it was clear that it was unmarked. One of the several codes of the United Earth Empire, an Imperial vessel must be painted light blue, with the exception of frigates and capital ships since they can be identified from a distance. Neither was the craft a vessel owned by a mining company, since such transports are required to be painted dark green. Nonetheless, here was an unmarked transport.
“I’ll try to contact the pilot,” said one of the guards. “It may be a possibility that the owner had no knowledge of government standards.”
“Copy,” replied the other.
“Unidentified transport, your craft is violating Imperial law and is on restricted government property,” said the Imperial guard on his radio. “Do you copy?”
There was no response.
“Unidentified spacecraft, please respond.”
***
“This government shall exist for as long as the people will it,” intervened the Emperor. “A house divided shall not stand.”
“Yes, your majesty,” said an Artemi Representative. “However, I believe this House shall dissolve. None of you can be trusted.”
“What was that, filth?” Questioned an Athenan.
“It is my belief that the only possible explanation for going to war with the Alliance is to allow the Imperial Navy to start up a fight.”
“Nonsense!” Cried out a human Congressman. “We fight in order to defend, as the United States of America had done centuries ago. This government honors the beliefs of that Earthly nation.”
***
“Unidentified spacecraft, please respond.”
***
“You have proven your point, Representative,” replied another Artemi. “But we have called this ‘republic’ an Empire. You have named your Empire after your puny home world destined to be destroyed. Your people of that planet were a warmongering folk since their pitiful beginning. We have named the leader of this ‘republic’ an undead human who wishes to ravage war and kill any who would stand in the way of ‘human development'.”
“And yours had hunted almost every game to extinction!”
“We kill to survive. You ‘Homo sapiens’ have killed for your own amusement. I find that this war is just an excuse to unleash the Annihilator.”
***
“...please respond…”
***
The entire room instantly filled with gasps and whispers. The Annihilator was an Imperial super capital ship that had seen service in the War on the Tethys Confederacy. The Annihilator-class was twenty times larger than any Invader-class constructed in the history of the UEE. Her crew claimed that she had the firepower of one thousand suns and was capable of destroying entire planets. However, she required an excessive amount of energy to keep the massive capital ship operational, the equivalent of keeping an entire urbanized planet with power. During the last battle against the Tethys Confederacy over its capital planet, Annihilator’s reactors were beginning to overload. The explosion that would have resulted would have wiped out both Imperial and Confederate fleets while the charged particles would have shut down the planet’s magnetic field, leaving its citizens vulnerable to the solar wind rendering the planet uninhabitable. The Confederacy had surrendered themselves before the super capital ship’s reactors would detonate. After a treaty was signed by both factions which has forced the remaining Confederates into the far reaches of space only to tear themselves apart, the Imperial Government has passed a law prohibiting the construction or use of super capital ships due to their dangers. According to Imperial archives, the once proud Annihilator is now located at an Imperial museum, stripped of all of her components, just a steel shell of her former glory.
“Lies! Deceit!” Cried out an Athenan. “None would dare utilize that warship. Our own kind would not dare to even speak of it!”
“You murderers would do anything for just the taste of blood, vile creature!” Responded an Artemi.
At least these aliens learned to speak English. I would have been out cold if they hadn’t, thought the captain.
The entire Congress room filled with screams of accusation. Representatives were placing blame on Congressmen from another world. Others were retaliating against them. All of the once civil beings have stood up, pointing fingers, and cried out against each other. The bones that was the Emperor had was shouting, attempting to regain control of the chaos. The two officers just sat and watched the vulgar meeting fold into pandemonium. The captain turned and gave his admiral a look, a look Vex knew very well. The navy admiral nodded, approving of Rogers’s plan.
Screw this, Rogers thought as he stood up. “Listen up, you disgusting embarrassments!”
The entire crowd fell into silence. The booming voice of the captain had caught the Representatives off guard since he had spoken so little. All eyes were upon Rogers. Their gaze had not faltered Rogers so he continued.
“There are two Alliance super capital ships! Both are seeking the destruction of this House and the government it stands on. I have seen them both with my very eyes, each identical. Each is half the size of Annihilator, but no less destructive. It’s not just the firepower of those vessels we must be concerned about. The Rebels also have legions of infantry at their disposal for a ground invasion. There are few actions we are able to take, so we must…”
***
“...please…”
An automated Gatling turret had extended from the cargo vessel’s hold. The gun had immediately began firing at the guards. The two were shot dead within moments. The ship’s boarding ramp lowered, allowing several figures to dispatch from the craft and approach the Congress building’s entrance.

The gunshots could just barely be heard within the government building. The Imperials sheltered in the Congress building immediately knew something was wrong. One of the building’s airlock entrances could be heard as it opened. Several sets of footsteps followed as they echoed throughout the structure. The Representatives were cowering, not knowing what else to do. The Emperor and the two navy officers, however, remained calm and on high alert to prepare for what devilry was to come. The footsteps ceased as General Delaney and his bodyguards entered through a corridor.
“Greetings, Representatives of the United Earth Empire,” began Delaney, arms in the air like a priest would at church. “Your salvation has come.”
“What salvation shall we find from the likes of you, slime?” Retaliated an Athenan. “Your unlawful ways are repulsive to us.”
One of Delaney’s suited bodyguards raised his plasma rifle at the stubborn Athenan, about to fire. The Promethean general gestured his guard to stand down. Killing Imperial officials would only fuel the Emperor’s hate for the ARF. The soldier obeyed, lowering his firearm to his side. The Emperor began walking on his cane to face the ARF general. Vex and Rogers saw this as a chance to ambush the Rebels. Crouched, the two stealthily moved their way to the walkway above the corridor in which the terrorists had entered.
“General Delaney,” began the robed figure in his ghostly voice, nearing the Promethean. “Your cause is futile and your methods are crude. Rather than accept ‘salvation,’ I shall ask you for the Alliance’s surrender.”
“Ha! Your negotiating skills are no less pathetic.” Delaney turned to the cowering Representatives. “Your great leader is as pathetic as he has ever been. He no longer has the strength to lead your Empire! He is weak and foolish.”
Vex and Rogers had made it to the walkway above the corridor. Peaking over the railing, Rogers could see four armed guards, all distracted by the argument between the two leaders. Crouching back down to Vex’s level, he gave a nod. The admiral returned the gesture then the officers leapt over the railing. They crashed down onto two of Delaney’s guards, forcing them to collapse to the floor and drop their rifles. Vex and Rogers retrieved the dropped firearms and shot down the other two guards that had turned around to take aim at the officers. The next thing the two know is that they were launched to either wall in the corridor. Agile Promethean had sucker punched the Imperials before they could take aim.
With a snarl of disgust, Delaney walked down the corridor and exited the building, leaving the bodies and rifles behind. Vex and Rogers were doubling over and grunting in pain as the Emperor was just watching the events unfold, too slow and weak to have done anything. Delaney had already entered his cargo vessel and taken off to intercept the two Alliance capital ships that had jumped into the system a few million kilometers away when the two officers had gotten to their feet.
“What is you will, your majesty?” Asked Vex. “What are your orders?”
“Assemble our fleets. The destruction of their capital ships shall bring this insignificant Rebellion to its end,” responded the robed skeleton. “Ensure that this United Earth Empire shall live to fight another day.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the two loyal officers.
Vex and Rogers grasped on to the weapons they had dropped when they were knocked to the wall. They then began sprinting to the exit, equipping their helmets in the process. Quickly making their way through the airlock, they stopped on the landing pad to gaze at the large warships approaching the Imperial capital.
“Uh oh,” Rogers remarked.
“‘Uh oh’ is right,” answered Vex. “Here’s the plan, we both are going up there with the rest of the Imperial Navy. I won’t allow those bastards to pass.”
“Bad idea.”
“What?”
“You saw what one of those super capital ships were capable of. You could barely put a dent in it.”
“Neither could they.”
“Yes, but that was one. Imagine two! They’ll rip the fleet to shreds.”
“Fine. What’s your suggestion then?
“Only allow one to ground itself. It’ll release its infantry for the invasion. I’ll stay here with our forces to defend, Alamo style.”
“But everyone died at the Alamo.”
“We’ll last as long as possible, I’ll promise you that.”
“Ah, what the hell,” Vex finally said, his arm outstretched towards Rogers. The captain grabbed and shook Vex’s hand. “I’ll see you on the other side. Glory to the Empire.”
“Glory.”
With that Admiral Vex turned and ran off to the shuttle the two had used to land on Titan. Rogers just stood and watched as his commanding officer disappear behind a closing boarding ramp, not knowing if he would see the admiral again. The captain continued to watch as the shuttle had took off and flew to Journeyer above the Imperial capital, visible through the orange-tinted atmosphere. Rogers finally contacted the barracks located on Titan after the vessel had vanished into Journeyer’s hangar.
“Lieutenant, do you copy?”
“Loud and clear, Cap,” responded the officer. “I already know what you’re thinking. I’ve already sent the 834th attack battalion to your location. Glory to the Empire, Captain.”

“I want the entire Navy here, ASAP!” Ordered Vex as he ran down the shuttle’s boarding ramp to the engineers awaiting him. “I have a plan from Captain Rogers. Make sure I can broadcast it among our fleet once they have arrived.”
“Yes, sir,” obeyed the crewmen.
Vex sprinted down the length of the ship to an elevator at the rear. He took it up to Journeyer’s bridge. Once arriving, the engineers at their stations had a look of fear as they turned their attention to the admiral. Ignoring the crew’s expressions, Vex walked over the front most point on the beak-shaped bridge, gazing at the view the several windows had to offer. The two Alliance capital ships were some distance away, but approaching steadily. Imperial warships began appearing alongside Journeyer after several series of bright flashes. Thankfully, an Imperial engineer was able to contact the several fleets across the galaxy sooner than later. The first line of defense has been set.
***
The 834th battalion marched through to the desert where the Congress building had been built upon. Rogers had jumped off the government building’s landing pad down to the arid landscape below him. The infantry division had met the captain standing upon a dune slightly taller than the rest. The officer immediately began giving speeches and orders to the army at his disposal.
“Alright men!” Rogers began using his radio device to communicate with the attack battalion. “The enemy wishes to wipe our United Earth Empire from existence. The enemy has invaded our space. They have ravaged our territories. The enemy has killed our people. Now, on the final battleground, they will destroy the peaceful way of life we have fought for since the beginning. Since the war against the Tethys Confederacy. I say, we bring an end to their despicable terrorism! I say, we draw our line here! This far, NO FURTHER! We shall make them pay for what they have done! We shall get our revenge against these honorless Rebels! We shall avenge our mothers! Our fathers! Our brothers and sisters! Our sons and daughters! All of them, shall be avenged with the destruction of this alliance, or we will die trying! GLORY TO THE EMPIRE!”
“GLORY!” The crowed before Rogers cheered. Despite the thin methane atmosphere of Titan, the captain’s name being chanted was booming across the desert battlegrounds. The men had their pride and their courage. Now, it was time to use it.
“I want half of you glorious men to construct our front lines! The other to set up our rear tri-pod artillery turrets. We shall not be destroyed without a fight! Today shall be an end, and we will do our damn best to ensure that it is theirs!”
The men went immediately to work, obeying orders. The plasma-firing turrets were assembled on the peaks of dunes in the rear. Three-quarters of the battalion and their captain had proned on dunes near the front lines, using the structures’ sand as cover. The pieces have been set. They enemy is moving. It was the deep breath before the plunge, waiting for the carnage to begin.

“Stay sharp,” said Vex to the blockade consisting of hundreds of ships over the radio communications. Majesty and Elegance have come within firing range. Vex just wanted them to shoot first. “Any minute now.”
The super capital ships made the first move. Elegance began launching colonizer vessels, hundreds of them. The ARF Rebels were dispatching their legions of infantry for Titan’s surface below. Both have prepared their heavy plasma turrets and have extended an anti-capital ship turret that had been encased within the hull. The hundreds of Imperial battleships would stand no chance against just two spacecraft.
“Captain Rogers,” Vex said over his radio. “Do you copy?”
“I’m here, Vex,” answered the captain.
“They’re sending colonizer vessels to the surface, probably transporting infantry. Should we launch fighters?”
“Negative! Negative! The ARF want to salvage as much as possible from the ruins of our Empire in order to establish their own government. Destroying their infantry immediately would scrap their operations, but would result in devastating bombing runs since salvation would be impossible without them. Let us run them dry.”
“Understood, but didn’t you say that they would land one of their ships so they could unleash their legions all at once?”
“I did and I thought they would. Only time will tell, Admiral.”
“Copy.”
The vessels shot through the Imperial blockaded. Allowing Titan’s atmosphere to slow the ships down, the hundreds of colonizer vessels landed on the surface. They were some distance away from Rogers’s army, landing on the far side of the desert since they would have been picked out of the sky by the turrets that have been set up. The mountainous terrain making up the building’s flanks wasn’t strategically favorable either since it would be impossible to land on steep slopes. The landers lowered their boarding ramps, allowing some humanoid commando squads to disperse and Spiders of Satan to swarm out.
“Listen up men,” Rogers said to the 834th battalion over his radio. “These are foes unlike any you have fought thus far. They are durable and they are dangerous. Aim for their knees to cripple and undersides to kill.”
The order was immediately followed by “copy that,” “yes sir,” and “understood sir” from his radio.
The landers have taken off after their payload had dispersed. The thousands of spiders, both of Outcast and the Spawn of Satan, were crawling across the landscape toward the Imperial army quickly. The squads of humans were barely keeping up as they skipped across the battlefield. Rogers was giving the gesture to hold fire. It would be easier to kill the spiders at mid-range rather than long.
Right when Rogers was going to give the order to open fire, something remarkable happened. As if someone just so happened to say the trigger word of a sleeper cell, the spiders from the Spawn of Satan had begun attacking the larger green spiders. The spiders of Outcast were caught off guard in the ambush. Several of them were killed instantly as blade-like appendages stabbed their soft flesh or removed their heads from its thorax. All of this occurred before a single shot was fired. The men of the Imperial battalion were cheering at the small victory. Rogers knew that Big Brown had a part in this. However, the victory would be short lived if the Imperial army did nothing. The green spiders had the advantage here. They have adapted to an environment almost identical to Titan’s while the swarms from the Spawn of Satan were not, evident by their respiration devices. The spiders of Outcast were also much more numerous in the battle than that of the Spawn of Satan, making up about three-fourths of the ARF infantry. They would be overwhelmed in a matter of moments.
Rogers finally gave the order. “FIRE!”
Plasma bolts were shooting across and raining down upon the battlefield, each hitting their mark. Green spiders were beginning to fall to the ground, deprived of their legs that have been shot off. Others were instantly being killed as plasma tore through soft flesh while the newly allied spiders were barely holding the up the green arachnids during their fights. The human and alien Alliance commandos had witnessed the betrayal of the Spiders of Satan, but most were unable to take action as plasma shots were tearing through their suits and flesh. Despite being greatly outnumbered, the battle on the ground has turned in Rogers’s favor.

Meanwhile, it has been very uneventful in Titan’s orbit. The both Imperial and Alliance fleets were stationary. Their turrets were aimed, but no shots were fired. Everything was going according to General Delaney’s plan. He was informed of the treason of the Spiders of Satan native to the inhospitable planet, but he had predicted since half of the population would not side with the Alliance. He would just have to wait until half of the spiders of Outcast were depleted until he would send in Majesty along with himself. However, the Imperial officers and crews were anxious due to the standstill.
“I don’t like this,” reported Commander Carter from Arrow-class star cruiser Exterminator.
“Why won’t they shoot?” Asked Lieutenant Bryson from Conqueror-class frigate Admirable. “Should we open fire, Admiral?”
“No,” responded Vex. “We wait for their move. One misfire could jeopardize our chances of victory.”
***
“Captain, the commandos are fleeing,” reported a battalion soldier. “The enemy spiders’ numbers have been reduced by about a third.”
“Good. Keep the pressure on these bastards.”
The ARF army was slowly being pushed back. Despite the spiders being armored on their topsides, the artillery provided a good distraction. The confused and disoriented spiders of Outcast were finding themselves on the ground without their nimble legs, easily allowing those of the Spawn of Satan to finish the job. The green spiders that haven’t found themselves prey to the firepower of the battalion were being pushed back by their smaller cousins. Some were even flipped over onto their backs by the Imperial-allied arachnids, leaving them vulnerable to both artillery and the aim of Imperial soldiers.
“Admiral Vex,” Rogers began over the radio. “The battle is going well on the ground. The ARF is being pushed back. How are you guys doing up there?”
“We’re at a standstill,” replied the admiral. “No one has dared to fire a shot. Why do you always get the fun part?”
The two chuckled. However, Rogers knows Vex well enough to know that this wasn’t his typical sarcastic joke. The admiral would usually put much more enthusiasm into the phrase. It was as if he was trying to calm himself down. It was as if paranoia had slowly been taking him over.
***
“General! Do you copy?” Began a panicked Rebel commando. “We’re being overrun. We need reinforcements!”
The Promethean General smiled a grin of mischief. His favorite part of this scheme would soon unfold. The Empire would be destroyed soon enough, according to his plan. He just needed to wait until the majority of the Alliance’s infantry has been destroyed so his final weapons wouldn’t destroy the legions themselves.
“Do not worry, soldier,” answered Delaney. “Majesty is on her way.”
Sets of pistons retracted heavy armor protecting Majesty’s thrusters on her stern. The prograde thrusters on the super capital ship fired off soon after. The massive ship began moving toward the Imperial fleet and Titan. No one has fired yet despite the action taken by Majesty.
“Rogers, one of them has started moving,” reported Vex. “It looks like it’s going to land at your position.”
“That doesn’t make sense. I’m looking at all the infantry they could ever possibly hope to have,” answered the captain. “Shoot it down!”
“Launch all fighters! Open fire on the nearest starship!” Ordered Vex to the dormant fleet.
“Finally,” said Commander Carter over the communication systems to no one in particular. “I get to shoot something!”
Within a matter of moments, hundreds if not thousands of Imperial Viper-class fighters had launched from their hangar bays. The capital ships and frigates had taken aim and bombarded Majesty with blasts of plasma and barrages of missiles. However, Delaney had learned from the events unfolding over the Earth-like planet where Rogers had been stranded. Majesty has since been equipped with enhanced energy shields and stronger armor. Against a normal enemy capital ship, the bombardment from the Imperial fleet would have annihilated the vessel. Due to the upgrades the super capital ship had received, it kept its course undamaged.
“Sir, no damage has been inflicted upon the ARF ship,” reported a human engineer. “What are your orders?”
Vex scanned Majesty through the windows from where he stood. The intense plasma bolts couldn’t bypass the shielding of the spacecraft. The missiles could, but were ineffective against the durable steel armor. It seemed that the vessel was indestructible. However, the experienced Admiral knew that everything in this universe had an “Achilles heel.” He turned his attention to the rear of the ship, towards the prograde thrusters. One couldn’t shield thrusters very well since it is required to allow them to release the combusted fuel in order to move. That’s when he put together a plan.
“Order the fleet to focus fire on its thrusters. It’s the only option we have. Rogers is counting on us.”
The engineer gave the order. All Imperial ships soon began firing upon the massive ship’s hydrogen thrusters. The missiles and plasma bolts were constantly making contact with the engine. It would only be a matter of time before it and the fuel tanks exploded. Suddenly, an intense beam of plasma shot out from the vacuum of space and struck Exterminator. With one last scream from the commander, the ship exploded as its reactors detonated after receiving heavy damage.
“What the hell!” Vex said off guard. The admiral set his gaze on the beam’s origin. Just a few seconds later, a second plasma beam appeared and destroyed an Invader-class near Journeyer. Vex saw that Elegance had been firing off its anti-capital ship weapon and was launching hundreds of fighters. “Uh oh… Someone order our fighters to change their target to the incoming enemy fighters! We can’t have them bomb us or Rogers. Order the Devastators to open fire on the capital ship destroying us. Everyone else must keep the pressure on the ship attempting to land.”
The command was given quickly by an engineer aboard Invader-class Journeyer. The agile Viper-class fighters quickly swooped around to intercept the enemy’s fighters. The Devastator-class frigates began moving up toward Elegance. However, that didn’t solve the threat of the ARF vessel. The spacecraft was remaining stationary, with its thrusters protected. The firepower the Devastators could muster would be ineffective against Elegance. The super capital ship had fired off a third shot at a Devastator-class attempting to unleash its artillery on it, quickly destroying it. Despite the Imperial fleet’s large numbers, it would quickly be destroyed by Elegance, but not before Majesty was disabled. After several barrages of missiles and plasma bolts, the thrusters had exploded along with the fuel tanks supplying it. The entire rear of the Rebel ship exploded with the force of fifty atomic bombs. However, the capital ship was being pulled down to the moon’s surface by Titan’s gravity.
“Rogers,” the admiral began over the radio. “Just a heads up, there’s a wreck of a super capital ship heading your way. Prepare for impact.”
“Copy that, Vex,” responded the captain.

The remains of Majesty began tumbling through Titan’s atmosphere. As the wreck approached the moon’s surface, it appeared that the capital ship was about to unleash Armageddon upon the Imperials. Crashing down on the far end of the desert battlefront where the Rebels were retreating to, the entire valley was engulfed by a dust storm wrought by the impact. Rogers and his attack battalion were unable to see their own hands in front of their face.
The crash site of Majesty could finally be seen as the dust settled. The once mighty ship that had almost captured Rogers, now split in half. Some of Rogers’s men began celebrating. It wasn’t any normal day when an enemy super capital ship was defeated. However, the captain knew better than to celebrate on occasions like this. From first-hand experience, something against their favor occur.
As Rogers had expected, the ARF sent Majesty to the surface for a reason. Despite being dozens of kilometers away, four large, tan-colored snake heads could be seen emerging from the darkness cloaking the vessel's interior. Those heads, were followed by snake-like bodies of the thickness of four busses as they slithered out. No, these abominations didn’t slither. As they revealed more of their hideous selves to the light, they were walking on four crab-like legs near the center of their body. The distant sun’s light had also illuminated the four large wings resembling that of an insect that they possessed. It took several minutes for the creatures to completely reveal their kilometer-long bodies.
“Captain,” said an Imperial soldier next to Rogers. “What the f*** are those!”
“Your worst nightmare.”
The Godzillas cried out a terrible, ear-piercing shriek. The battalion began cowering and holding their hands against their helmets fruitlessly trying to relieve themselves of the suffering the vocalization was causing them. The Rebel commandos continued to flee towards the beasts as well as the spiders of Outcast. The spiders from the Spawn of Satan had completely turned around and moved their way quickly towards the Imperial lines. Rogers paid no attention to the pain, just the weaponry built upon the creatures. As the vile creatures were rearing up their front appendages and spreading their wings while screeching a horrible roar, opened maws revealed the sharpened triangular bones making up their jaws and large venom-injecting fangs normally hidden behind those. The captain assumed these were the monstrous cavern dragons Delaney had mentioned. The only opposition to the theory was their sheer size. How such large predatory creatures were durable enough to prevent being crushed under its own weight on a planet with a stronger gravitational pull than Earth’s couldn’t be explained at the moment. Hell, Rogers didn’t even know how large spiders could exist on a planet with 1.1 G of gravitational acceleration. Nonetheless, one thing was certain, only the behemoths before the Imperials could bring an apocalypse upon the Spiders of Satan.
The screech from the dragons ceased after several minutes of pain inflicted to humanoid eardrums. The battalion’s soldiers were able to relax, but only for a short few seconds. When they returned their gaze back to the giants, two had been flapping their wings and taking flight while the other two began crawling towards the Imperial-allied Spiders of Satan. The cavern dragons would have reached the army within moments if allowed and the spiders more quickly. The Imperials hadn’t realized that Rogers was shouting orders through the radio communications.
“Disperse! Fire at will! Disperse! Move! Go, go, go, go!”
The army finally got the message and split up in all directions. If they had hesitated for just a few seconds, a cavern dragon would have landed directly on top of them. The creature was bombarded by fire power from the scattered soldiers the moment it landed. However, the reptilian scales somehow provided sufficient protection against the plasma crossfire. The dragon remained unharmed. With one swing of its mighty tail, the beast retaliated by sending Imperial soldiers across the battlegrounds to be caught and consumed by other dragons that have been making quick work of the Spiders of Satan. Those who have not felt the wrath of the predators from the Spawn of Satan kept the pressure on the abomination.
Rogers stood his ground, firing at the beast’s amber eyes. As if the creature could see the plasma shots coming from a kilometer away, the cavern dragon encased its eyes in scaly armor just before the bolts hit. Aggravated by the Captain’s attacks, the dragon lunged at him with it a gaping maw. Rogers just barely rolled out of the way as the vile organism drove its skull into the desert sand. As the Imperial captain stood up and returned his stare to the cavern dragon, he noticed a shiny metallic object secured to the back of the predatory alien’s skull. It somewhat resembled the respiratory devices equipped on the Spiders of Satan, but much smaller, at least compared to the giant creature. Raising his weapon and pulling the trigger, Rogers shot the device. The apparatus immediately exploded, releasing gases that had comprised the atmosphere of the Spawn of Satan. The cavern dragon quickly yanked its head out of the dunes with a mighty roar after the destruction of its gadget, but it had little control over its crab-like legs as they began to fail the under the dragon’s weight. The beast soon collapsed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process, and died as it suffocated on Titan’s atmosphere. Rogers’s men couldn’t celebrate the captain’s achievement since they were attempting to survive the other cavern dragon that had flown to their position.
“Shoot it in the back of the head,” ordered Rogers. “The device! Shoot it!”
None of the soldiers responded, but they clearly heard it. Rogers could see them attempting to get behind the dragon while dodging its lunges and swings of its tail. The captain then turned his focus to a third dragon that was charging him, which had a few Spiders of Satan latched on trying to break through its reptilian armor. Rogers stood his ground, rifle aimed, waiting for the right moment. The kilometer-long beast lunged its head towards the Imperial captain, jaws wide like the last dragon. Thankfully to the low gravitational pull of Titan, was able to jump over the creature’s head and grasp onto scales protruding from its skull.
The captain began crawling down the cavern dragon’s head. He needed to destroy its respiratory device as quickly as possible. The dragon may have buried its head in Titan’s sand, but it will find a way to pull it out. Slowly, but surely Rogers had reached the device. The dozen or so Spiders of Satan, including Big Brown that had originally abducted Rogers, that had been attacking the creature’s back has now taken audience of the Imperial captain as he attempted to smash the respiratory device with the butt of his rifle. Unfortunately for Rogers, the attempt was futile since the mechanism remained undamaged. Captain Rogers stood himself back up to take aim at it, but it was too late. The cavern dragon had forcefully pulled its head out of the sand, launching Rogers half a kilometer away and forcing him to lose his grip of the plasma firearm. The Imperial had landed somewhat softly in the sand, but the giant abomination had turned around to meet his foe face-to-face as he stood himself back up. All Rogers could see was the back of the creature’s throat.
The captain stood still and closed his eyes shut. Even if he even attempted to run, the predator would have locked its jaws with an iron grip and forced Rogers down its esophagus. He just stood still, awaiting his death. However, the next thing Rogers heard was the gurgle of the dragon’s final breath. Opening his eyes, Rogers continued to stand where he was, processing the situation. The predator’s mouth was just a few centimeters from his face, motionless. After a few moments of silence, Rogers chuckled, danced, and flipped of the cavern dragon as a celebration. Backing up a few meters, the captain saw Big Brown with a blade-like leg driven into the dragon’s respiratory device. The beast had suffocated before crushing the Imperial between its jaws.
Suddenly, Brown ripped its leg from the predator then disappeared from Rogers’s view as the Spider of Satan fled. Confused, the captain turned around to see the fourth snake-like monster with the remaining spiders of Outcast following. However, it had no intent on harming the Imperial. It was instead dropping the ARF general off to meet the “dragon slayer.” Delaney had jumped down from the back of the giant creature, a battle axe in each hand and still dressed in his green uniform, then began marching to face the captain. The cavern dragon then flew off to assist the other giant predator that the 834th attack battalion had been fending off while the green spiny spiders followed.
“Captain Rogers Thoron,” boomed the Promethean general. “You have dared to evade your own demise once again. Why won’t you simply DIE?”
Delaney hurled an axe at Rogers. The Imperial saw it coming from a kilometer away and was able to dodge it. However, the blue Promethean had quickly approached Rogers and knocked him to the ground. While scrambling to get back on his feet, Delaney had dropped his boot onto Rogers’s chest. He was pinned down as if an anvil had just been placed on top of him. The terrorist general had lowered his other axe to where Rogers’s neck would be on his EVA suit as if Delaney was about to decapitate him.
“I would take your pitiful life now and nail your disgusting hide to my wall, insignificant ferret,” exclaimed Delaney. “However, I wish you to witness the destruction of your ‘United Earth Empire’ before you perish.”
“Yeah right, bub,” remarked Rogers. “Look what happened to your invasion force.”
“Witness the state of yours,” returned the Promethean, gesturing his free hand to where the Imperial lines have been. The green Spiders of Satan had provided a distraction for the dragons as both alien monsters were finishing off the Imperial forces, both humanoid and spider. Defeat was imminent for Rogers’s ground defense. “I could say the same for your insignificant fleet.”
This entire time, Rogers had been distracted by the swarm of invaders to notice the battle in orbit. As he looked up through the orange-tinted atmosphere, an entire fireworks show was occurring, as if it was the Rebel’s celebration. Tiny flashes of light indicated the explosions of fighters and the frequent red beam of light signified Elegance destroying another Imperial vessel. Only a few frigates and capital ships remained of the Imperial fleet. Looking more closely, Rogers could see the last Invader-class to exist in the Imperial Navy thrusting towards the ARF super capital ship.
What the hell, Vex, Rogers thought.

“Admiral,” sounded Lieutenant Bryson’s voice over the radio system. “What are you doing?”
Vex had completely taken over control of Journeyer. Her crew has agreed to the admiral to ram Elegance and overload the reactors in a last ditch attempt to destroy the anathema of a spacecraft.
“This is the only possible way, Lieutenant,” responded Vex. “I’ll see you on the other side. Engineer, shut down communications with the remaining fleet.”
“No wait—” began the officer, but was cut off when an engineer had deactivated Journeyer’s antenna.
“Hey, umm, Captain,” began the Admiral with the radio in his suit.
“Yeah,” answered Rogers. “I was just about to contact you. I wanted you to know that you were the best superior officer I could ever ask for.”
“I wanted you to know you were the best friend a veteran like me could ever have.”
“Yeah. I can live with that.”
“Pleasure to serve with you.”
With that, Vex cut off his communications with the surface. From where Rogers watched, Journeyer was less than a minute from collision. The captain’s face was blank as he watched the final moments of the battle over Titan. His entire body was still, but filled with emotions as the Empire fell. Delaney could sense the grief within Rogers and released a booming laugh. He raised his axe one last time before his killing blow.
“Where is your Emperor now?”