by G J Ogden
“Thanks to the distress signals, we can at least expect reinforcements to arrive within thirty minutes,” said Banks. “We’re going to need them.”
“Unfortunately, no ship that comes to our aid will get within a kilometer of this station,” replied Sterling. “With G-COP under Crow’s command, any vessels surging into the area will get pulverized if they stray too close.”
Banks cursed and began pacing up and down. “What about the Halberd?” she said, motioning toward the gatekeeper weapons platform that was visible in the distance at the mouth of the aperture. “Can we contact the crew on board and request their assistance?”
Sterling looked to Griffin, who was contemplating Banks’ idea, though she still appeared pensive. Sterling then watched as the Admiral attempted to access the station’s communications array, but her request was denied.
“Damn it, they’ve locked down all access to deck one only,” Griffin spat, hammering her fists down on the conference table. “Contact your ship and have them relay a message to the Halberd,” Griffin added, looking across at Sterling. “We must act quickly, before they jam all outgoing communications.”
Sterling nodded and reached for his neural interface. However, before he could activate a link, the conference room was shaken by a series of thumping tremors. At the same time light flooded through the conference room windows, as if someone had shone a flashlight directly into Sterling’s face. He squinted his eyes shut to block out the dazzling light. Through his narrowed gaze he saw what had caused the flash and the vibrations. G-COP’s powerful battery of plasma railguns had opened fire, unleashing a concentrated burst of energy aimed directly at Fleet Gatekeeper Halberd. Sterling, Banks and Griffin watched in silence, helpless to intervene, as the blasts of plasma hammered into the weapons platform and obliterated it.
For several seconds no-one spoke as they observed the mighty weapons platform disintegrate in a fiery blaze. They all knew the implications of the Halberd’s destruction. With the gatekeeper destroyed and G-COP’s significant arsenal of firepower at the Sa’Nerra’s command, nothing could prevent an invasion fleet from flooding into the sector. To state the fact out loud would have been pointless, Sterling realized, so it was no surprise that neither he, Banks nor Griffin did so.
As the glare from the explosion died down, Admiral Griffin turned away from the window and moved to the rear of the conference room. The Admiral then removed a simple silver chain from around her neck. Sterling saw that there was an ID chip attached to it, similar to the one Griffin had given Sterling in the past to allow for secret encrypted communications to flow between them.
“We cannot allow G-COP to fall into enemy hands,” said Griffin, as she inserted the chip into a large, secure storage compartment built into the wall. “I think we all know what needs to be done.”
Sterling knew Griffin well enough to predict her intentions. It helped that they were the same as his own.
“If we’re to take back the station then we’ll need weapons,” said Sterling. “This conference room is on command level three, which means we’re only two decks below the command operations center.”
The Admiral lifted her left wrist and pulled back the sleeve of her tunic. Embedded into her arm was a simple screen, on which was displayed a seemingly random string of numbers and letters. Sterling frowned as the code changed, flashing up a new sequence of letters and numbers. Glancing down at her wrist, Griffin entered the new code into the secure compartment’s control panel and the door unlocked.
“There are some benefits to being a flag officer, Captain,” said Griffin, pulling open the door to reveal six plasma pistols and six sets of body armor.
Griffin removed three pistols and three sets of armor, tossing each one onto the conference table like a sports coach tossing items from a kit bag onto the field. The Admiral then removed the ID chip from the door, but kept it in her hand, rather than placing the chain back over her head.
“This is a command override key,” said Griffin, walking calmly over to Sterling. “You can think of it as a skeleton key.” She offered the chip to him. “If you insert this into the command console on deck one, you will be able to override the station commander and take control of G-COP.”
Sterling took the key and placed the chain over his neck. “What’s with the code on your wrist?” he added, tucking the chip beneath his tunic.
“This is the authenticator,” said Griffin again pulling back the sleeve of her tunic. “The code changes every ninety seconds. Without the authentication code the key is useless.”
Sterling frowned. “Without cutting your arm off and brining it with me, I don’t see how that helps us, Admiral.”
“Cutting my arm off wouldn’t help you either, Captain,” replied Griffin through narrowed eyes. “Believe me, if it would then I would have had you remove it already.” Sterling’s eyes widened. He had no doubt in his mind that Griffin was being serious. “If I die, or the authenticator is removed, it automatically ceases to function.” Griffin pulled her sleeve back down over the screen and held Sterling’s eyes even more firmly. “Unfortunately, I cannot risk joining you on the assault,” she added, her dissatisfaction with this state of affairs written plainly across her face. “If the Sa’Nerra were to capture and turn me, the knowledge and access they would gain would be devastating to the entire fleet.”
“I understand, Admiral,” replied Sterling. He couldn’t deny that the tenacious flag officer would have been a welcome extra gun, but her reasoning was sound.
“The Sa’Nerra will likely still search this room,” said Banks. “I can help to barricade the door and give you some added protection.”
Griffin looked around the room then frowned at Banks. “Barricade the door with what?”
Banks stepped up to the conference table and moved the plasma pistols and body armor onto one of the plush conference chairs. She then gripped the side of the table and began to tip it onto its side, scattering the chairs on the opposite side like pool balls. Considering the table was more than twenty feet long and likely weighed the same as a horse, the ease with which she accomplished the feat clearly surprised Griffin.
“I’ll drag it against the door after we leave,” said Banks, dusting off her hands.
Griffin raised an eyebrow. “Should this succeed, I trust you will not forget to release me from this prison, Commander,” she said.
Sterling tapped the ID chip hanging from the chain beneath his tunic. “Once Commander Banks and I reach the command console, I’ll contact you over a neural link to receive the code.”
Griffin nodded then picked up one of the pistols from the conference chair and tossed it to Commander Banks. She caught it without hesitation. The admiral then handed a pistol to Sterling and the two officers locked eyes.
“The Omega Directive is in effect, Captain Sterling,” Admiral Griffin announced. The words sent a shiver down Sterling’s spine. Griffin holstered the final weapon then again locked her icy stare onto Sterling. “Your orders are to retake this station, no matter the cost. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear, Admiral,” Sterling answered, holstering the plasma pistol then grabbing a set of body armor. He held out the armor to Banks and his first officer took it, meeting Sterling’s eyes with a look of raw determination that he’d learned to recognize and trust implicitly. “No matter the cost,” Sterling added.
Sterling then held the eyes of Commander Mercedes Banks, drawing strength from her strength, and steeling himself for what would be the toughest test either of them had ever faced.
Chapter 24
A table for two
Sterling and Banks prowled along the corridor outside the conference room, weapons held ready. The sound of raised voices and plasma weapons fire was filtering into their ears from gun battles that had already begun on command level three. Sterling glanced down at the computer wrapped around his left arm, which displayed an architectural schematic of G-COP. Despite being considerably smaller than its cousin in
F-sector, the space station was still larger than a mega-sized shopping mall. Their location two levels below the main command operations center was an advantage, but Sterling guessed there were still dozens of warriors between them and where they needed to be.
“Any genius ideas for how we get to level one, without getting killed?” asked Sterling. He then remembered his first officer’s last plan that involved reaching a higher level and glanced over at her, eyebrow raised. “Preferably ones that don’t involve climbing through service crawlspaces into rest rooms.”
Banks smiled. “That had crossed my mind, but it wouldn’t work on G-COP,” she replied. “Level one is sealed off from the rest of the station. The only conduits that link the two are for utilities like power and water. Maybe a cat could make it through, but not us.”
“In some ways, that’s a relief,” Sterling said, returning to studying the schematic. “This level is mainly dedicated to administrative operations,” he continued, thinking out loud. “Crow was smart enough to block off the lower levels, trapping the bulk of G-COP’s security forces below this deck.”
“What about making our way through the central garden?” said Banks, stabbing her finger toward the screen. “There’s a stairwell leading up to the command level two offices at the far end.”
Sterling focused in on the area, chewing the inside of his cheek. “There’s not much cover in there, save a few fake trees,” he said. “And since the route up to level two is directly beyond the east exit, that’s where we should expect the heaviest resistance.”
Banks considered Sterling’s comments, scrunching up her nose as she did so, but then she conceded the point.
“Okay, so we might not be able to reach command operations through the crawlspaces, but we can still use the service areas to reach level two,” Banks said. She pointed to the maintenance doors at the end of the adjacent corridor. Sterling frowned, but Banks was quick to clarify her plan. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t involve crawling across a rest room floor this time,” she added. Banks then zoomed in on the map on Sterling’s computer and tapped her finger onto the screen. “There are voids behind all of the interior walls, where the utilities conduits are routed through. We can get inside using Griffin’s keycard, then climb up to level two. After that, we’ll need a new plan.”
Sterling nodded then lowered his arm, automatically deactivating the computer. He didn’t like the idea of climbing around inside the station’s voids, but he also didn’t have a better idea.
“Okay, let’s move,” said Sterling, checking along the corridor then hustling across to the next intersection with Banks covering their rear. The sound of weapons fire was growing louder by the second. It quickly became clear to Sterling that they were heading toward the battle, rather than away from it.
“The nearest maintenance door is right across this landing,” said Banks, nodding in the direction they needed to go.
Sterling peeked around the corner and saw that they had reached the eastern edge of the central garden. It was a manufactured sanctuary of largely fake flora, bathed in artificial sunlight that was designed to emulate early evening summer sun. For the Fleet crew on G-COP, stranded light years from Earth or any other planet, it was a necessary sanctuary that helped to keep people sane. However, Sterling could see that this particular haven had already been violated by the alien invaders that now rampaged through the station.
“I count maybe sixteen Sa’Nerra and a dozen Fleet, fighting it out just ahead,” said Sterling, pulling back out of sight. “That maintenance door is completely exposed. We’ll be sitting ducks if we go out there.”
Banks shuffled around the side of Sterling and scouted the surroundings. “I have an idea,” she said, though from the look in her eyes, Sterling could tell he wasn’t going to like it. “Those co-working tables are made of solid metal,” she went on, pointing out the object in question with the barrel of her pistol. “We move out then I grab a table and use it as a shield while you unlock the door with Griffin’s skeleton key.”
“They’re just office tables, Mercedes,” replied Sterling with a skeptical frown. “It’s not going to take a plasma blast like the regenerative armor of the Invictus.”
“It only has to take a few hits, not survive a prolonged attack,” said Banks, undeterred. “They’re tough enough for what we need.”
A plasma blast then flashed past the end of the corridor and burned a hole into the wall a few meters from where they were hiding. Sterling took another cautious glance into the garden space and saw more warriors were advancing. Cursing under his breath, he turned back to Banks, holding his pistol ready.
“I don’t think we have a choice,” he said, honestly. “Go on three and I’ll cover you.”
Banks ran out from cover and sprinted toward the nearest co-working table that was nestled just inside the garden space. Plasma blasts were racing back and forth through the artificial leaves and branches and Sterling saw three of the Fleet security forces go down. Fleeting shapes moved through the undergrowth and Sterling fired, hitting one warrior and setting a fake tree alight. However, from his new vantage at the edge of the garden, it was now clear that the Sa’Nerran forces vastly outnumbered the Fleet defenders.
“Mercedes, hurry, this place is about to get overrun,” Sterling called out to his first officer, who had just reached her target. He fired three more blasts from his pistol, killing another two warriors. Then a shot flew past his ear in return, so close he could smell the singed hair around his ears.
Banks reached the table and grasped her hands around the thick, stem-like base. She then lifted it off the deck and held it out in front of her, like an umbrella caught in a strong gust of wind. A second later, plasma blasts thudded into the surface of the improvised shield.
“Get behind me!” Banks yelled, crouching low and side-stepping out of the garden area toward the maintenance door on the side wall.
Sterling moved in close behind his first officer as more blasts smashed against the table. Already he could see the effects of the impacts on the reverse side of the table’s surface. Firing blind over the top and sides of the table in an attempt to drive his attackers back, Sterling then tapped his neural interface and reached out to Admiral Griffin.
“Are you there already, Captain?” replied Griffin, clearly surprised to have been contacted so soon.
“Not yet, Admiral, but I’m going to need an ID code from you to unlock a maintenance door,” replied Sterling. He reached inside his tunic and grabbed the chain around his neck.
“Very well, Captain, let me know when you need me to read it out,” Griffin replied. “And remember, the code cycles every ninety seconds.”
Banks reached the door then dropped to one knee, maneuvering the table to shield them both.
“Make it quick,” Banks called out, as sparks flew over the top of the table, scorching her face.
Sterling removed the ID keycard then went to insert it into the locking mechanism. However, his hand had barely stretched out in front of him before a plasma blast thudded into the door. Sterling spun around and spotted the shooter, the keycard falling from his hand as he raised his pistol to fire back. Another blast raced past his shoulder, striking the reverse side of the table and missing Banks by barely an inch. Sterling fired, hitting the warrior first in the leg then in the face, blasting the alien’s head clean off. Suddenly, the image of Ariel Gunn popped into his mind, stupefying him like a sharp slap to the face.
“Lucas, the key!” Banks yelled.
Sterling snapped out of his sudden daze, grabbed the key from the deck and turned back to the door. The table that Banks was using as an improvised shield was now buckling. Sections were burned through, exposing them to a lucky shot or well-aimed blast.
“Admiral, give me the code!” Sterling called out in his mind, while slotting the keycard into the reader. There was silence on the other end of the link. “Admiral, the code!” Sterling said again, feeling his pulse thump in his neck.
�
�Lucas, I can’t hold them off for much longer!” Banks called out, as a blast flew through the table and burned into the wall beside the door.
Dark scenarios invaded Sterling’s thoughts. What if Admiral Griffin had already been killed? What was his plan B? Was there even a plan B?
“Seven, Two, Five, Zulu, Echo…” began Admiral Griffin in Sterling’s mind.
Sterling cursed and hurried to catch up, tapping the code into the numeric pad on the door.
“Three, Nine, Romeo, One,” Griffin continued.
“I thought we’d lost you for a moment, Admiral,” said Sterling, while he continued to enter the sequence.
“I was waiting for the code to refresh, Captain,” Griffin replied, sounding considerably calmer than Sterling felt. “Did it work?” she added, as more blasts penetrated Banks’ makeshift shield.
“I’ll let you know in a second…” replied Sterling, entering the last digit of the sequence. There was a painful wait before the lock turned green. Sterling yanked the keycard out of the door, almost snapping it in the process, threw it over his neck then grabbed the door handle. To his relief it opened.
“Mercedes, let’s go!” Sterling yelled, pushing the door and holding it open for his first officer.
Banks drew the broken and burned table closer to her chest then pushed it away from her body, letting out a shot-putter’s roar as she did so. The table soared through the air and smashed into two advancing Sa’Nerran warriors. The aliens had barely hit the deck before Banks had drawn her pistol and fired. Two more warriors were hit and killed by the time Banks had backed through the opening. Sterling slammed the door shut then took two steps back and launched a kick at the handle with the heel of his boot. The adrenalin surging through his bloodstream helped to give him the power needed to smash the handle clean off.
“Admiral, we’re through,” said Sterling in his mind. “I’ll contact you again when we’ve reached level one.”
“Pick up the pace, Captain,” replied Griffin, sounding like an angry customer waiting on her lunch order. “Griffin out.”
