Obsidian Fleet: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Omega Taskforce Book 4)

by G J Ogden

  “It’s complicated, Captain,” replied Sterling, choosing to address the man according to his current status, rather than his old Fleet rank. “And I’m afraid I don’t have time to explain right now.”

  Fletcher nodded. “Understood, Captain. Keep your secrets,” the former fleet officer replied, offering a wink of reassurance to highlight he was only joking. Sterling, however, was also in no mood for jokes, and Fletcher appeared to recognize this at once. “Is this matter anything I can assist with, Captain Sterling?” he asked, taking a much more earnest tone.

  “I’m tracking a Void Marshal down to the planet’s surface,” Sterling said. He felt he had no reason to keep secrets from the man. “He has someone I need. And he’s also responsible for killing one of my officers.”

  The older man sighed and nodded. As a former Fleet officer, Sterling knew he had at least some understanding of how he was feeling at that moment. However, Fletcher’s own history of loss and pain allowed the man to have greater empathy for his situation than most.

  “We monitored a shuttle heading toward Sanctum Spaceport,” Fletcher replied. “A word of warning, though, Captain. If it’s Ed Masterson you’re after, he’s made Sanctum his own private law-enforcement base. I hear he bankrupted himself hiring mercenaries from all over the Void in order to find you.”

  “We met them already,” said Sterling. “They’re all dead.”

  Fletcher nodded. “I’d like to say I’m sorry to hear that, but in all honestly that would be a lie,” the former officer admitted. The man then became more earnest again. “Which of your officers was lost, Captain?”

  “My helmsman, Ensign Kieran Keller,” Sterling replied, feeling his mouth suddenly go dry. The memory of Keller’s head being blown off pushed its way to the front of Sterling’s mind. Rage swelled inside him and he clenched his teeth, fighting hard to bury his emotions and keep a tight lid on his anger. He needed to save his energy and his aggression for the moment he had his hands wrapped around Masterson’s throat.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, I enjoyed meeting him,” Fletcher replied, coming across as heartfelt and sincere. “I hope you get your man, Captain. The Marshals no longer serve a useful function, and haven’t for some time now. If we all survive this then I’m going to make some changes in the Void.”

  Sterling glanced down at his console, observing the movements of Fletcher’s rag-tag fleet. The salvage operation had been organized with military precision. Judging by their initial scans, it also looked like Fletcher had only lost four ships in the battle.

  “Based on what you just accomplished here, Fleet could use you back on the front line, Captain Fletcher,” Sterling said, feeling nothing but admiration for the man. “It seems that your original family of thirteen ships has grown somewhat over the years.”

  Sterling knew he was pushing and had made the comment as casually as possible, hoping Fletcher’s jubilant mood would loosen his tongue.

  “That it has, Captain,” Fletcher replied, allowing a thin smile to curl his lips, “but my days with Fleet are long past. The Void is my home now. Should the Sa’Nerra destroy Earth and come looking for a fight here, I aim to be ready.”

  Sterling nodded. He admired Fletcher’s courage and determination, as well as the man’s clear aptitude for battle and for command. However, despite the impressive victory he’d won at Oasis Colony, the cold truth was that he didn’t stand a chance against the Sa’Nerran invasion armada. It seemed wrong to throw cold water on Fletcher at a time when he was riding high from his victory, but Sterling was not one to pander to false hopes. He trusted that Fletcher would want to know what they were facing.

  “If the Sa’Nerra come, I don’t doubt that you’ll give them one hell of a fight, Captain Fletcher,” Sterling said. “But the alien armada is hundreds strong, with a capital ship that can destroy a small moon. If they come, you will not be able to stop them.” Fletcher bristled, but didn’t immediately reply. Age and experience had allowed the man to stymie a natural urge to pridefully refute Sterling’s assertion. Instead, Fletcher was contemplating his words carefully. “Believe me, Captain, I don’t mean to rain on your parade,” Sterling added, while the older man continued to reflect on what he’d said. “I only want to give you the truth, wholly unvarnished.”

  Fletcher sighed and nodded. “I guess we’d better all hope that Fleet prevails then,” he replied, though it was clear to Sterling that the old officer had little faith in such an outcome. “Be careful down at Sanctum, Captain,” Fletcher added. “Masterson isn’t the sort of man to negotiate, or to back down.”

  “Thank you, Captain Fletcher, but I have no intention of doing either,” Sterling replied. “The time for talk is long gone. Now it’s fight or die, for all of us.”

  One of the Bismarck’s crew walked up behind his commander and whispered something into Fletcher’s ear. The older man nodded then turned back to Sterling.

  “I’m afraid I must go, Captain,” Fletcher said. “However, I hope our paths cross again, in better circumstances.”

  “As do I,” Sterling replied, offering the man a respectful nod. “Good hunting, Captain Fletcher.”

  “And to you also, Captain Sterling,” Fletcher returned the gesture. The image of the Bismarck’s commander then cleared from the viewscreen and was replaced with a view of Sanctum Spaceport.

  “Ten minutes until we’re on the ground, Captain,” said Commander Banks, swiveling the pilot’s chair around to face Sterling. “What’s our strategy when we arrive?”

  Sterling’s hands balled into fists. “We go in hard and kill anyone who stands in our way,” he said. Then he glanced across to Lieutenant Shade. “I want every commando we have left on the deck the moment we land,” he said, watching the eyes of his weapon’s officer sharpen as he spoke. “Colicos is our target. We have to get him back.”

  “And what about Masterson?” Banks asked. “Shall we leave him to you?”

  Sterling shook his head. “I don’t care who kills him, or how he dies, but let me make one thing absolutely clear.” Banks, Shade and Razor all came to attention as Sterling said this. He met the eyes of his officers in turn before fixing his gaze onto Commander Banks. “We don’t leave this planet until Masterson is dead at my feet. Call it revenge, call it whatever you like, I don’t care. This time, it’s personal.”

  Chapter 19

  A taste of things to come

  Smoke poured into the sky above Sanctum City, billowing up from the remains of hundreds of buildings that were still burning. Fire ships buzzed all around the city, doing what they could to put out the infernos, but the Sa’Nerra had left few parts of the metropolis untouched. Chris Fletcher’s intervention had ensured that the city and its population had not been entirely eradicated. Even so, Sterling found the scale of the alien bombardment of the planet to be shocking, and Sterling did not consider himself a man who was easily shocked.

  “Do another pass around the city with scanners on maximum, then approach Sanctum Spaceport nice and slow,” Sterling said to Banks, who was still piloting the Invictus. “But be ready to press the pedal to the metal at the first sign of trouble. We don’t know what other tricks Masterson has up his sleeve.”

  “Aye, Captain, though so far it looks pretty dead down there,” Banks replied, easing the Marauder back around to begin her scanning run.

  Sterling had studied and seen footage of Sa’Nerran attacks on the Void colonies during his time at the academy. However, the bulk of the heavy fighting on the ground had occurred during the first two decades of the war, all of which was before his time in the Fleet. The footage and reconstructions of the conflicts didn’t do justice to the reality, Sterling realized in that moment. The scene in front of him was truly apocalyptic in nature. Thousands of mutilated and burned bodies littered the blackened streets. Dotted in amongst all the death and destruction were a few individuals and families who had somehow escaped the bombardment. Ironically, these small clusters of life appeared incongruous to their surroun
dings, like they were travelers visiting a long-dead, alien world. Sterling was not even sure they were the lucky ones. Huddled together, weeping in front of the charred remains of their homes and loved ones, they had lost almost everything. Death would have been a mercy… Sterling thought as he and the rest of the bridge crew continued to observe the scene in silence. It’s the only mercy those alien bastards are ever likely to grant.

  The worst of it was that the destruction of Sanctum, along with the other cities on Oasis Colony, had been achieved by a relatively small alien force. Sterling knew that should the Sa’Nerran armada reach Earth, the result would be destruction on a scale orders of magnitude greater than he was witnessing at Sanctum. It was a reminder of the importance of their mission. It was a validation of everything he had done, and would yet still do, in order to ensure the Sa’Nerra were defeated.

  “Coming up on Sanctum Spaceport now, Captain,” said Commander Banks. Then Sterling’s first-officer huffed a laugh. “I’ll be damned, the hotel is still standing. How the hell can that monstrosity have survived while everything else burned?”

  “It just goes to show that there is no justice on this planet,” Sterling replied, thinking of Masterson’s constant claims that he was on the side of the law.

  “Then let’s dispense some natural justice of our own,” Banks replied, glancing at Sterling over her shoulder. In her eyes, Sterling saw the same hunger for retribution that growled inside his own gut.

  “I’m reading three gen-one fleet frigates on the deck, surrounding the hotel, sir,” said Lieutenant Shade. “The vessels are heavily modified and adapted.”

  “Are they Masterson’s?” asked Sterling, cocking his head towards the weapons console.

  “Negative, Captain, they don’t read as belonging to the Void Marshals or their deputies. In fact, I’m not detecting any kind of transponder ID at all.”

  Sterling nodded and returned his gaze to the viewscreen. “That means that they’re mercenaries or Void Pirates,” he said. “More of Masterson’s hired guns.”

  “Confirmed, sir, I’m detecting Masterson’s shuttle on the ground too,” Shade added. His weapon’s officer then highlighted the shuttle on the viewscreen. It was nestled between two of the frigates.

  “I’m reading elevated power readings from the warships and the shuttle, sir,” said Lieutenant Razor from the rear of the bridge. “They’re getting ready to take off or shoot at us, or more likely both.”

  Blasts of plasma erupted from two of the grounded mercenary frigates, striking the Invictus across the belly.

  “Regenerative armor holding at eighty-nine percent,” Shade reported as another blast lashed the ship. “Eighty one percent.”

  “Destroy those ships,” replied Sterling, steadying himself against his console, “but leave the shuttle intact. I need Masterson to believe he at least has a fighting chance of escaping.”

  “Aye, sir, loading firing pattern now,” said Lieutenant Shade.

  A cloud of dust was kicked up as one of the frigates engaged its thrusters and begun to lift off the ground. Oh no you don’t… Sterling thought, waiting for his weapons officer to pull the trigger. There’s no escape for any of you, not this time.

  “Firing,” Shade called out.

  Sterling felt the thump of rail guns resonate through his console and watched as the energy tore through the hull of the escaping frigate. The vessel exploded like a grenade, smashing windows and pockmarking the hotel with fragments of burning debris.

  “The second ship is powering up,” Razor said.

  However, Sterling could already see on his console that their turrets had locked on. The second ship was then peppered with dozens of smaller, more tightly-focused blasts of energy. It was like being hit by a sawn-off shotgun at close range. Fires and electrical arcs erupted from the hull breaches and the ship collapsed onto the hard standing, adding more smog to the already thick, polluted atmosphere over Sanctum. Men and women ran from the vessel, covering their mouths and firing wildly at the Invictus with hand held weapons. Some made it inside the hotel, but others were consumed in flames as smaller explosions continued to pop off all over the vessel.

  “The last ship is making a run for it,” Banks called out from her station. “It obviously doesn’t have the heart for a fight.”

  Sterling knew that the ships and the crews on Sanctum had played no part in the raid at Far Deep Nine. Yet they were still outlaws and bandits and also in the employ of Marshal Masterson senior. He recalled Fletcher’s promise to make changes to the Void Colonies, should any of the planets survive the war. However, Sterling thought there was no reason to wait until after the conflict had ended to eradicate the scum and riff-raff.

  “Target their engines and fire,” Sterling said. “All weapons.”

  “Aye, sir, locking on,” Shade replied as the mercenary frigate began to climb, its engines burning brightly. The nose of the Invictus then tipped up, bringing the might of its primary rail guns to bear. “Firing…”

  Sterling watched the flashes of energy tear through the black sky above Sanctum, then rip through the frigate like a knife through tissue paper. The split halves of the ship exploded, spewing flaming debris for miles around. Some of the wreckage smashed into some of the few buildings that had survived the bombardment relatively unscathed. Most of it thudded harmlessly into ground that was already burned black. Collateral damage didn’t mean much now, Sterling thought, as the smoke trail from the crashed ship began to dissipate. Sanctum was already a wasteland. The structures and the survivors that were still standing were just as dead as the rest of the city – they just hadn’t realized it yet.

  “Set us down in front of the hotel and keep our turrets trained on that building,” Sterling said. He then turned to his weapons officer. “I want everyone you have on the deck in full combat gear in two minutes.”

  “Aye, sir, they’re already standing by,” Shade replied, jumping down from her station. She was like a live, exposed circuit, humming with energy. Battle was the only thing that made Opal Shade truly come alive.

  “The target is Colicos,” Sterling reminded his weapons officer. “I don’t care if he’s missing limbs, so long as he’s still breathing and his mind is intact. See to it.”

  Shade nodded and hurried off the bridge, while Sterling tapped his neural interface and connected to Commander Graves. He opened the link to allow Banks to monitor. “Commander, ensure that the medical bay is ready to receive wounded, then report to the bridge,” he said.

  “Aye, Captain,” replied Graves. Sterling was about to close the link when his medical officer spoke again. “If possible, please also retrieve some enemy casualties. We are currently low on artificial blood plasma, I can harvest what I need from the battlefield dead.”

  Sterling huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Understood, doctor, there will be no shortage once we’re through, I promise you that,” he replied, closing the link.

  “He’s a dark one alright,” commented Commander Banks.

  “I have a feeling I’m heading to an even darker place than Graves inhabits,” Sterling said. He wasn’t even sure why he’d said this or what he expected Banks to say in reply. Perhaps he was looking for her to validate his actions, or perhaps he was looking for her to reign him in. However, his first officer’s reply left no doubt as to her perspective.

  “Whatever it takes, Lucas,” Banks replied, coolly. “If that means channeling the darkness inside of us, then that’s what we do.”

  Sterling felt the thump of the Invictus’ landing struts touching down. Banks disengaged their engines and slid out of her chair. “We’re down and secure, Captain.”

  Sterling nodded. “Then suit up, Commander. The Omega Directive is in effect.”

  Chapter 20

  The Honeymoon suite

  The cargo ramp of the Invictus hadn’t even hit the asphalt at Sanctum Spaceport before small arms fire began to rain down on the Marauder-class Destroyer. The ship’s turrets returned fire, hammerin
g blasts of plasma through the ground-floor windows of the hotel, and within seconds the incoming shots stopped. Sterling smiled; whatever weapons the mercenaries and deputies had to hand was no match for the Invictus.

  Lieutenant Shade moved out first, leading her squad of six commandos. A second squad then moved up along the far side of the hotel. The thump of the heavy boots was swiftly followed by the boom of plasma hand-cannons and the rapid buzz of “Homewrecker” heavy plasma rifles. Sterling waited patiently for his weapons officer and her squads to disperse, then stepped calmly down the ramp with Commander Banks at his side. He was in no hurry. Marshal Masterson was cornered with nowhere to run. The only place the lawman was headed any time soon was straight to hell.

  “He’ll probably be holed up on the upper level of the main foyer of the hotel,” said Banks as they both strode out on the asphalt with the Invictus at their rear. Like Shade and the commandoes, they had donned full combat armor, though both had forgone wearing helmets. Sterling wanted Masterson to look him in the eyes and know who had killed him. “Masterson and his mercs and deputies will have their weapons trained on the main entrance,” Banks continued. “We should probably try to find another way inside.”

  “You’re right, we probably should do,” Sterling replied, checking the power setting on his Homewrecker rifle as he walked. Then he glanced across to his first-officer. “But I’m not sneaking around after this guy. This is going to be a straight-up power play, agreed?”

  Banks nodded. “Suits me just fine, Captain.”

  Like Sterling, Banks was also equipped with a heavy plasma rifle, though she had a plasma hand-cannon slung over her back too. Sterling had preferred a different choice of secondary weapon. Attached to his belt was one of the serrated, half-moon blades the clean-up squads had recovered from a fallen Sa’Nerran warrior on Far Deep Nine. Now it was his to wield in anger.

  Plasma blasts and screams filled the air around the hotel as Shade and her commandoes tore through the mercenaries and Void Deputies with ruthless aggression. It was a ferocity that Shade usually reserved for their true enemy – the Sa’Nerra – but on this occasion her brutality was warranted. Masterson had killed one of Sterling’s own, and for that the lawman would receive no quarter.