To Fight For

The wounded lay scattered in the halls and the commander leapt over them not without concern to get to the control room. He needed to direct them out of the debris path. He spun around a corner and skidded into the wall but he did not let it stop him and he shouted for the people ahead of him to make room for him to pass. One of their fellow ships had been destroyed by a fiery blast from the enemy and the debris was headed for their ship. The commander had just boarded and was racing toward the control room to try and steer them free of the deadly trajectory. Of course, this was long before he was a commander, or even a commanding officer.

The control cabin had been hit and everyone inside had immediately perished. The room had been sealed, but not before everyone with the ability to control the ship had died. The commander had heard the distress call just before the hit and had immediately come to help. He was one of the best new pilots and was eager for action. The slanted metallic doors that lead to the control room opened with a whoosh and he sped inside and practically jumped into the pilot’s seat. He ignored the limp corpses that lay on the ground around him; he did not have the time to mourn them or be distracted.

The fiery chunks of the destroyed space ship flew toward them at an alarming speed.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” a voice sounded over the radio system. The commander picked up the receiver piece and placed it in his ear as he restarted the thrusters on the right side of the ship.

“Is that you, Marder?” The commander asked with a fleeting recognition apparent in his voice.

“There’s no way that hunk of a ship has the maneuvering capabilities to escape that. It’s impossible. You’d better just evacuate as many people as you can.”

“Why save half when I can steer this ship to save everyone?” The commander said. He eased the throttle at first and then punched it hard as the messy blaze of wreckage drew closer. The force heaved the ship sideways instead of forward and the blue tinted planet came into view. The gravity pulled the ship into the atmosphere, and the momentum of the initial thrust carried them farther away.

The ship began to spin as it plummeted toward the surface of the planet. It felt like they were inching along as the debris hurtled toward them. The commander heard Marder’s protests but he just pulled the ship farther sideways. He flicked a switch to override the automatic restabilization of the ship and let he it spin and gain momentum.

They were getting dangerously close to the point where they would not be able to avoid crashing into the surface of the planet, but the commander needed for there to be enough distance so that the debris would be deflected off of the planet’s defense system. He flicked the switch back up and there was a loud hydraulic sound and the ship righted itself. He pulled the ship up and turned on the other thrusters and reversed them so that it stopped them a good twenty miles from the surface. The flaming rubble of the destroyed ship passed by them moments later and was flung back into space by the parabolic distribution shield.

“How was that for impossible?” The commander said with a satisfied sigh.

Marder only responded with a whistle and a sigh. The commander gave a husky laugh and pulled the ship back up out of the atmosphere.

“Are you sure you want to get back into the fight? Don’t you have the injured onboard?” Marder sounded hesitant. But the commander was a pugnacious youth at that time and he was already shaking his head before Marder finished talking.

“It’s no problem; we can make it to the checkpoint. They might need the med supplies there anyway,” he sounded as if he was making an excuse, which in truth, he was.

“But that med sign on your tail is going to make you a target for the enemy.” If Marder had outranked the commander instead of being his equally ranked friend, then he would have ordered him to take refuge on the planet. But he was only a new pilot, just like the commander was. The commander pulled up behind the smaller ship that Marder was piloting.

“Don’t worry, I’m a good driver,” the commander said with a confident smile. He looked down to adjust the propellant angles.

“Hey, watch out!” Marder shouted. The commander looked up just in time to see Marder steer his one man ship to the left and in the path of the blast that had come from a distant enemy ship.

“Marder! Marder, answer me! Are you there?!” Radio silence. The fire of the explosion cast a dark golden hue on his viewports. The commander pulled his ship back toward the planet and just made it inside the planet’s protective shields as another blast exploded behind him. He looked at the screen that showed a view behind his ship. The path of the trajectory of the blast was still visible. It had been headed right for the commander’s med ship, probably shot at him the moment he exited the atmosphere. He could hear the moans and cries of the injured from the hall.

Marder had saved them, all of them. And he had died in the process. The commander landed the ship while he still had control over his own thoughts. As soon as they were docked, he lost his nerve and broke down in angry sobs.

A year later the commander actually became a commander of his own fleet and went back into battle with a new head on his shoulders. Two months after his initiation he saved three med ships and the secondary offensive fleet in a heroic move against the enemy. He received his first star.

Two years later he was leading an offensive fleet and he overtook one of the enemy’s planets without any bloodshed and received his second star.

Four years later, the enemy attacked with unexpected strength and destroyed the majority of the fleet. Over the following months they engaged in tug-of-war battles and kept getting pushed back farther and farther until they were defending their home planet where their entire culture, civilization, and people were. There were other planets they could go to, but the desire to stay home sometimes overpowers common sense of safety.

Their remaining fleets were mostly destroyed, and their commander in chief had been on one of the destroyed ships. Everyone looked to him because he had the next highest number of stars and they evacuated the majority of their people to the other side of the planet where emergency evac. ships would take them to one of the planet’s moons that was actually a hollowed, secure safe place. They met in the floating barracks that was the pride of their military. He and the five remaining commanding officers stood in the viewing room that had three screens pointed in the direction of the enemy that approached on all sides.

“We should have a man from each colony come forward. We can teach them basic defense skills on the ship controls. They can help us fight,” said the tallest of the officers. He stood at attention, like all of them did.

Another officer chipped in, “That wouldn’t work. Most of the people are already in the moon, only the cultural leaders refused to leave.”

“Why fight with half of a force when we could fight with a full force?” the same tall officer looked around at the others for support. A couple of them nodded to each other and then they looked back at the commander. Their glances and accruing support vanished when they saw the look in his eyes.

“That would cost many more lives to man more ships with civilians,” the commander said.

The officer scoffed and brought his hands out from behind his back in objection. “But if we have a full force we stand a chance! They’ve brought all of their forces with them to attack us. If we defeat them we’ll have defeated the strongest stellar force ever in existence! We’d… we’d all get stars for that.”

The commander glared at him until he readjusted his posture and placed his hands behind his back again and stood at attention.


“Who do you think we are fighting for?” The commander eyed his commanding officers with a fierce, regal gaze. “For ourselves? For the country? For what we’ve done? For victory, hm?” He leaned over the edge of the rail, his hands gripping the cool metal tightly. The commanding officers looked back at him with guilt, confusion, and a trace of aggression. “No. We fight for our people and the love for our people. We do not shy away from running if it will save the lives of our family, our friends, and the strangers we have known all of our lives. I have seen good men die because of another man’s arrogance. With the enemy drawing upon us we could fight for our pride and our strength and we could fight because we have fought for so long. But we should not look upon escape as if it were cowardice. We should not view safety as the inability to take a risk. If we cannot overlook our weapons and see the fearful faces of the ones we are meant to protect, then every battle will only lead to destruction and death with no purpose to serve. For our people we will run. We will live to die in old age beside the ones we love.”

The buzz of communications became more urgent as the enemy drew closer and attacked the outer defenses. The commander waited for a moment and then the officers nodded and stood a little taller. They were ready to run, and to sacrifice their pride and their will to fight for the lives of their people.

“Why sacrifice any life when we can save all of them?” one of the officers said as an attempt to reassure his position.

“Good,” the commander said. He stood tall as well and saluted his troops. “Go find your families and lead everyone to the east. Retreat and escape when the enemy closes in on the forefront. Our formidable barracks will attract their lustful eyes and leave a gap in their forces. Good luck… Dismissed!”