The Col Sec Chronicles Box Set

by Jan Domagala

  “Pilot, take us in.”

  17

  General Sinclair sat at the head of the conference table in his ready room facing the group as they ate the meal he’d had prepared for them and transported from the cafeteria. He thought it would save time if they started the debrief en masse as they ate, foregoing the usual routine of separating them and taking individual reports and later seeing if they matched up to corroborate the overall story. This time he had no doubts that what they said was a fair and accurate account.

  While they ate he had a lab tec download all the relevant data for the evidence required from Tanya Wilde’s NI. The process was painless and non-invasive, with a link from NI to NI being all that was required.

  Satisfied that the events were progressing well and without a hitch, he even afforded himself a wry smile, although that was short-lived as a call from Ops Centre wiped it from his face.

  “Sir, we’ve just received word from our tracking station on the Moon which was confirmed by long range scanners on Io and our orbiting platforms near Earth. We have an unidentified craft on approach vector. She’s not responding to hails, sir, and according to early scans her weapons are hot,” said the voice.

  Holding up his hand to indicate something was wrong, Sinclair linked the com. channel to the building’s com. system accessible to those around the table then said, “Does the craft bear any known recognition codes, markings or energy patterns and does it compare to any known configuration in our data banks?”

  Everyone’s attention was riveted to the General and the conversation he was having.

  “Negative, sir, to all your questions,” was not the reply he wanted but it was the one he received.

  “Check against any new ships under development,” Hawk said. When Sinclair stared at him he explained by adding, “OMEGA has access to the same tec and munitions they provide us with, who’s to say a ship under development for us isn’t already built and up there now. It could have all sorts of new specifications we don’t know about yet.”

  “I’ve a feeling we’re about to find out,” De Boer added.

  “How long before she reaches firing range?” Sinclair asked Ops Centre.

  “Hard to say for sure, sir. We know nothing about her so we can’t be certain what her capabilities are and we won’t know until we find her configuration in the database or she comes within our sensor range.”

  “How the hell did they sneak that one past our sentry sensor posts?” demanded Sinclair angrily.

  “I suppose they could’ve made a precision jump to just behind the Moon where we wouldn’t see them. Our SSPs would be tuned to look for craft which we expect to see attacking us, by that I mean they’re tuned to seek out and recognise starships from the Alliance, Raiders from various sectors and Outlaws. They’re not used to ships coming after us from within our own space,” suggested Hawk.

  “That will have to be amended as soon as this mess is cleared up. Their range and scope will have to be increased to include all approaching craft of any description that doesn’t display the relevant operating codes,” Sinclair said confidently. Once the initial shock of the craft’s sudden appearance had worn off his usual calm and confident demeanour had returned. He was sure that if this new craft did belong to OMEGA the planetary defences would be able to handle her.

  “Operating codes, that could be a problem also, sir. If OMEGA has infiltrated Col Sec as deeply as we think, the codes, in fact everything, may have to have a complete reboot,” suggested Hawk thoughtfully.

  The voice from Ops Centre returned to add weight to Hawk’s speculation. “Sir we’ve located the ship’s configuration within the folder marked ‘Top Secret’ sub division, ‘Under Development’. I’m forwarding her specs to you directly.”

  The ship’s specifications were sent to Sinclair’s ready room and were shown on the monitor that rose from the centre of the conference table. It had screens on all four sides so that whatever data was shown could be viewed by all who sat around the table.

  As the image and specs of the starship were displayed on the screen, Hawk heard Sinclair gasp. Whatever this ship was, the General recognised her and it disturbed him.

  “Sir, are you okay?” he asked concerned, for in all the years he’d known the General he’d never seen him react that way.

  “Yes I’m fine,” was his stilted reply.

  “Do you recognise her?”

  “It’s the Nemesis. She’s the blueprint for our new battle carrier group flagship. We were informed it would be another five years at least before MaxCorp would have a working prototype.”

  “Seems Jonas Wilde may have pushed the date forward a bit then,” added De Boer.

  “What’re we facing here, sir? What do you know of her capabilities, well those they told you about? If they’ve got a prototype ready five years sooner than you were told was possible, I would assume that’s not all they kept from you,” Hawk said.

  “Her specs are impressive, at almost six thousand feet she’s the largest craft in the fleet. She should have fifty fighters, pulse cannons both fore and aft, as well as down each side and top and bottom, and missile tubes placed similarly. She can carry a thousand marines to the battle zone. They’re the things we know about, what else have they packed her with?” Sinclair said.

  “There’s another way of looking at this, she may not have all her systems online, or at the very least working to full capacity. Think about it, she’s in space five years ahead of schedule, so how many corners have they cut to get her here now?” De Boer said, giving them something to think about and hope for the upcoming battle.

  “There can be only one purpose for her showing up here like this, they intend to attack. Sir, we need something to counter this threat, and Colonel, I do hope you’re right,” Hawk said.

  “So do I, Matt,” De Boer replied, his brow furrowing with lines of deep concern.

  “I can’t think that Wilde’s hatred of me would manifest itself in this fashion,” Sinclair said, for a moment lost in thought.

  “Excuse me, sir?” Hawk asked confused at the change in topic.

  “Years ago Jonas Wilde was under my command, he was Recon Delta and had a promising career, but he began to show signs that he loved brutality more than the Confederation. After a psyche evaluation he was cashiered out on a medical discharge. He was deemed unsuitable material for a Recon Delta officer. He didn’t take it very well; on the day he left he swore revenge on me. I took it as just an idle threat from a man who was embarrassed about his situation, a spur of the moment thing. I never for a second thought he meant any of it,” explained Sinclair.

  “Well, I guess him showing up with the Nemesis shows he did mean it after all,” Hawk said.

  “An understatement if ever there was one,” agreed Sinclair, then regaining his focus said, “Ops Centre, scramble all fighters and recall the closest starships to Earth, inform them we’re under attack. Alert all orbiting defence platforms, bring them up to Battle Stations and do it now before they try to jam our transmissions.”

  “I’m on it, sir.”

  “How much of a threat is she, sir? I mean she’s not built to function inside the planet’s atmosphere surely?” De Boer asked.

  “Not that I’m aware, but her fighters are and the planet’s surface is within range of her missiles and pulse cannons and I’m not quite sure what his target will be,” Sinclair replied, pondering the thought.

  “One ship against an entire planet does seem a little one sided on our part but there must be more to it, there has to be,” commented Hawk.

  “My Dad never does anything without good reason, he’s not impulsive. Whatever he’s doing now is something he’s had planned for some time,” Tanya said, speaking up for the first time since ordering her meal. As all eyes turned to her she added, “Trust me, he’ll have a reason for all this.”

  Hawk said, “We know what his reason is, Tanya.” Turning to Sinclair he asked, “Sir, you said his hatred of you, what exactly did you me
an by that?”

  “When he received his medical discharge he took it personally, he blamed me,” Sinclair answered.

  “You, personally? That makes a little more sense now,” Hawk said as he tried to put the pieces together. He had wondered for a long time what the motives were behind Wilde’s actions going right back to the very first time they encountered the original clone. Now he thought he understood it a bit better.

  “Sir, I think this whole thing, going back to when I brought that clone here from the chamber, has been about revenge, with you as the focus,” he said. Turning to Tanya he asked, “Think back to conversations you’ve had with your father or you’ve overheard from him, has he ever bemoaned his time in Col Sec?”

  “How do you mean?” she asked not sure where he was going with this, or what it had to do with what was happening right now.

  “You know, has he ever said things like ‘If it hadn’t been for Col Sec I’d be, whatever’ or ‘If I hadn’t spent so much time in Col Sec I’d be…’ that sort of thing,” Hawk explained.

  “A few times, but I don’t know how that helps,” she admitted.

  “It helps us understand his mindset and from that we can maybe work out his intentions,” Hawk said. “Sir, I think he probably blames Col Sec for certain things he sees as not going right in his life, and with you being in command you could be the focus, his main target. In his evaluation was he borderline psychotic with sociopathic tendencies?”

  “I believe so, yes.”

  “Then his interests will be self-centred and he will view himself as being superior to all others. His interests, his opinions and his purpose will be the only things relevant to him and are the only things he’ll give precedence to. He’s using those pent-up ill feelings and frustration towards Col Sec to fuel this scheme and I wouldn’t be surprised if he planned to attack Col Sec itself and, seeing you as the focus, the target will be this building.”

  “How can you be so sure?” asked Tanya.

  “Your father arranged for us to capture one of his clones, probably leaked the Intel to us either directly or via a third party. We duly brought him here to be interrogated. That was probably just a test to see if we’d take the bait and bring the clone back here.”

  “Why though? That piece of the puzzle has been bothering me from the start,” asked Sinclair.

  “I have a theory that Wilde arranged for us to capture the clone so we’d bring him back here to see if they could track him. All Recon Delta marines have a tracking chip in their NI, as do all top-level staff at Col Sec, so why not assume that Wilde had the same for all OMEGA staff. I would guess that Miss Wilde here has one too and I’d bet anything that Wilde is going to use that signal to target the Nemesis’ weapons.”

  “Are you suggesting he’d use his own daughter as some sort of laser pointer to paint the target?” Sinclair asked.

  “But if he wanted her here why did he try to kill us all before we left Cordoba? It doesn’t make sense,” De Boer said, unable to see past the small details for the moment and view the larger overall scheme of things.

  Hawk took on board what the Colonel said, seeing the rationale behind it, then the truth dawned on him as another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

  “It makes perfect sense. If he wanted Tanya here for the purpose I’ve suggested, what’s the best way to ensure she got here? Make us think he was trying to kill her, and knowing she was carrying data vital to the case against him, he knew that we would do everything we could to keep her safe, to the point of bringing her to the safest location, probably in the galaxy – Confederation HQ,” he explained with a look that said they were in real trouble.

  “Are you saying then that the attack on our shuttle was staged, because it felt damn real to me?” De Boer said still not convinced.

  “Oh no, it was real enough, he probably told his men to kill us so it would appear genuine.”

  “And if they’d succeeded?”

  “Oh no doubt it would’ve slowed him down but I’m sure only momentarily. I feel certain he’d have a backup plan or at the very least an idea he could utilise. He seems very organised, structured almost to the point of being anal, but I wonder if he’s had to adapt this plan of his or if this is exactly what he wanted, what he planned all along.”

  “What’s the difference, either way we’re screwed,” interjected the first marine.

  “Not quite, if this is his plan and it’s going along as he predicted it means he’s logical, methodical and he’s foreseen every step we’ll make and he’s planned a counter move like a chess grand master. If that’s so, then we can use that to our advantage,” answered Hawk.

  “How?” asked the marine.

  “By doing something unpredictable, something he can’t have planned for,” Hawk explained.

  “And if it’s the second option?” asked the second marine.

  “We could have a problem. If he’s adapted his plan to changes we’ve made then it shows he’s not only a brilliant strategist but able to think on his feet and come up with solutions to problems as they present themselves. Stopping him could be tough.”

  “Like I said, we’re screwed,” the first marine said.

  “Not at all, I said it could be tough, I didn’t say it would be impossible,” Hawk replied optimistically.

  Before anyone could say anything further the building began to tremble and they all heard a loud explosion seemingly from a distance but close enough to be heard and felt. They felt the floor move beneath their feet and the walls shake as bits of mortar and plascrete began to shower down on them.

  Sinclair looked at Hawk and said, “It’s started.”

  18

  In close approach to Earth the Nemesis chose a geo- synchronous orbit that would place her over Confederation HQ so they could target their weapons onto the building directly. Her primary shields kept her safe from the orbiting platforms that had been manoeuvred into position to defend the planet. A well-aimed Hammerhead missile took out the nearest platform then three more took out the remaining ones. Luckily they were automated platforms so no lives were lost when they were destroyed. That couldn’t be said for when the Nemesis turned her weapons towards the planet itself. Once the pulse cannons were targeted at the Headquarters building and began to fire, the loss of life was devastatingly high.

  The first salvo destroyed the entire top three floors of the building; two hundred and twenty-four lives were snuffed out in a blink of an eye. The only saving grace being that they died instantly with no knowledge or fear of it happening and no pain when it did. They died mercifully swiftly. That couldn’t be said for those who died after that. They all knew it was coming so they died in pure terror and ungodly agony as the building was razed to the ground, one level at a time, slowly, methodically and with absolutely no regard whatsoever for the lives that would be lost in the implementation of this act.

  The devastating attack was felt throughout the building right down to the sub-basement levels where the Intelligence Division was housed.

  “We need to mount some kind of defence or at the very least get you to a safe location,” suggested De Boer.

  “And where would you suggest, Colonel? I can think of no safer place than right here, that is until about five minutes ago,” Sinclair retorted.

  “The Colonel’s right, sir. The problem is if they’re using Tanya’s NI to track and target, no matter where you go they’ll find you. We need a way to jam the signal,” Hawk said.

  Sinclair said, “I’ve got Tec Division working on that along with other problems since we learned that OMEGA had the same tec and munitions as we do, to try and navigate around that problem and give us some kind of edge.”

  “Isn’t that like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, sir?” commented De Boer.

  “Hopefully not. Let’s go see what they’ve come up with,” Sinclair said.

  * * * * *

  Captain Jefferson was sitting in the command chair on the bridge of the Valkyrie wa
tching the huge battle carrier approach the Earth as she prepared to enter a geo-synchronous orbit over the Confederation Headquarters building.

  “Jesus H Christ sir, look at the size of her,” exclaimed the pilot.

  “She sure is impressive, never seen or heard of a ship like her before, hope to God she’s one of ours,” Jefferson said in awe of the monster before them.

  “Should we scan them, sir?” asked ops.

  “I’m sure Col Sec know what they’re doing,” Jefferson replied.

  “Sir, I’m reading the orbiting defence platforms just went hot and are targeting the new bird and Tiger squadron has just scrambled,” ops said urgently as his instruments came alive before him.

  “What the…” exclaimed Jefferson as he leaned forward in his seat, his gaze fixed on the forward viewscreen. He watched as the Nemesis fired Hammerhead missiles at the orbiting defence platforms destroying all four then, unbelievably, the huge ship’s pulse cannons began firing towards the planet’s surface.

  “Sir, they’re firing on Confederation HQ,” ops said.

  “What do we do, sir?” the pilot asked urgently.

  Jefferson sat back in his chair a feeling of helplessness overwhelming him. His ship was fast and powerful for her size but to attempt to go up against the monster facing them would be like an ant facing off against an elephant, they would get trampled without the elephant even being aware of the ant’s existence.

  With reluctance he said, “Against that thing, what can we do?”

  * * * * *

  The Tec Division was on the same sub-level as the Intelligence Division so it was just a short walk – a very rushed walk – along a few corridors until they reached their destination.

  When they entered the large room it resembled a factory more than a tec lab. There were workbenches laid out along the entire length of the long room, strewn with equipment and devices of all shapes and sizes that were in various stages of repair.