Omega Force 09: Revolution

by Joshua Dalzelle

  "Just one that we can carry," Jason looked at Twingo. "How long to prep Big Betty?"

  "You're sure you want to use that damn thing?" Twingo asked. "We've never really fully tested it."

  "Not what I asked."

  "An hour, maybe less," Twingo said, his ears fluttering in his species' version of a shrug. "It's not a difficult procedure, but safely charging it is time-consuming."

  "Then get to it," Jason said. "We don't have anything else aboard other than a ship-buster missile that can do the job, and we've already decided that's out of the question. Even if we could reprogram one to hit a ground target without Kage's help the collateral damage is unacceptable."

  "How is your comrade?" 707 asked.

  "He's awake and appears to be uninjured," Doc said. "I'm keeping his neural implants disconnected as a precaution, and the withdrawal symptoms are quite extreme so he's partially sedated right now."

  "That is good," 707 said. "Are we settled on a strategy?"

  "The less moving parts the better, so yeah … I can't think of a simpler way to hit this fast and hard without blowing half the peninsula off the map," Jason said and looked around the bridge at the concerned faces of his crew.

  "I know going into harm's way to protect the ConFed goes against everything we stand for, but I think we all understand this is the right thing to do."

  "777, which team are you deploying with?" 707 asked.

  "I will stay with my own unit and accompany Captain Burke," Lucky said without hesitation.

  "I will assign five others to go with you to increase the odds of success," 707 said. "That will keep your total complement down to a manageable number while increasing your effectiveness significantly."

  "Agreed," Jason said. His first instinct had been to refuse and say that Omega Force worked better alone, but the other battlesynth was right: a three-man team would be a bit light. When considering that their movements and intentions might already be known, he was almost tempted to ask for more than the five battlesynths.

  "We'll leave this course in … one hour and make our way south."

  "My unit will be ready," 707 said and walked from the bridge.

  "I don't doubt it," Jason said.

  "CAPTAIN BURKE, glad to see you're not sitting in a Kheprian prison," Mok said once the video resolved.

  "Not as glad as I am," Jason said. "I see the Endurance is sitting out there with your ships. Tell Captain Swank that I'll be in contact as soon as I feel he's seen everything he needs to and then he can get the hell out of here."

  "If you don't mind my asking, why is he here if he's not actually transporting them back?" Mok asked.

  "I want a representative from Earth or Terranovus present when things go to hell," Jason said. "The members of Lot 700 will be attacking Kheprian military installations and firing on pru soldiers. No matter how this shakes out, they'll be considered criminals and face immediate dismantling under current Kheprian law.

  "As soon as we have them aboard, the Phoenix will make a direct line out of here and take them to Terranovus after they request asylum. That planet is still mostly abandoned, so they'll be able to stay and regroup in relative peace until they figure out what they'll do next. Captain Swank is here to accept their plea and to alert Terranovus that we're inbound. Having a starship captain accept their request under the current charter requires Earth's government to honor that agreement."

  "That makes sense, I suppose," Mok said. "So why am I here? The Empire's ships have arrived, but I don't have any way to contact them to see if they're operating under Arx's former orders or if my associate was able to nullify that."

  "We'll be leaving before the real fun starts, I believe," Jason said. "Once the inhibiter signal is gone, the battlesynths protecting the banking AI will be disoriented, but the majority will no longer be on-task. I think that's when the Protectorate fleet up there will get orders to attack."

  "To what end? You've never been clear on what the endgame would be if your theory holds true," Mok said. "If the AI became sentient, wouldn't it be able to accomplish its goals through subversion?"

  "I'd imagine if it decided to begin disallowing access to the central banking systems someone would quickly step in to either reboot or reload it," Jason said. "As long as those battlesynths are there, it's virtually untouchable and it wouldn't take long before it would be able to completely destabilize the ConFed beyond its ability to recover.

  "That's all just speculation, of course. For all I know this could be an elaborate suicide attempt by an intelligence that's thousands of years old and just wants it all to end. Anyway … I want you here to simply observe and record. Once the fuse is lit there are going to be a lot of people caught by surprise and with no idea as to what the hell just happened. Your knack for knowing things will come in handy about then, along with your ability to get it into the hands of the right people."

  "True, but I could have done that from the comfort of my own home … the one you didn't burn to the ground for fun," Mok complained.

  "You don't want to miss all the excitement," Jason said with a smile.

  "For someone who's supposed to be a dumb, hard-case mercenary you are quite the schemer, Captain," Mok said. "You're juggling a lot right up until the end. Why do this? Earth's fortunes aren't tied to the ConFed, S'Tora is isolated … why stick your neck out this far?"

  "It started with the promise to help a friend, but in the end I can't just walk away without at least trying to head this off," Jason said. "If the ConFed disappears overnight then—well, we've already discussed what will happen."

  "Nothing pleasant, yes, I agree," Mok said. "Very well, Captain … I'll let Captain Swank know to be expecting your official call and then my ships will sit here and watch this entire drama unfold."

  "Thanks," Jason said. "If I survive, I owe you one."

  JASON LEFT the com room and made a direct line for Engineering to check on Twingo's progress before prepping his own gear. Big Betty was still technically untested despite how simple it was. One slip-up during the charging phase meant an explosion of such magnitude they'd be lucky if anything bigger than a grain of sand remained of the Phoenix afterward.

  "Just about done," Twingo said when he saw Jason poke his head in.

  "How did it go?"

  "Couldn't have been easier even if it was the tensest thing I've ever had to do while in this outfit." Twingo checked the readings one more time before turning away. "The charging is complete, now we're reestablishing all the safety barriers on both sides before disconnecting it. Who's the poor bastard that has to carry this?"

  "Me," Jason said. "I'll be in my heavy armor so the weight won't be an issue."

  "The thought of running through enemy fire with this strapped to my back—" Twingo trailed off and shuddered. "No thanks."

  "Once it's fully ready, pack it up and put it in the armory," Jason said. "I’m going to check in on Kage and then we'll be hopping out of this pattern and heading to the target."

  "Are you sure about this, Jason?" Twingo asked before he left.

  "How do you mean?"

  "We're getting ready to attack a military installation on a Pillar World based on a theory," Twingo said after he’d sat down and seemed to collect his thoughts. "We don't have any firm proof that this AI has been corrupted like you think. Your reasons are compelling, but I've watched you convince yourself of things before that weren't necessarily true.

  "This is a huge risk. If you're wrong, or even if you're right, we won't be able to hide our involvement. The ConFed will hunt us down."

  "You're asking if this is the hill I'm willing to die on?" Jason asked. "I never expected to live this long, Twingo. We're in a dangerous line of work and we routinely take jobs on that put us up against greater numbers and occasionally against whole governments. We've been lucky and good enough to skip out of each one, but the odds are going to catch up with us eventually.

  "If this job means that we head off a scheme to destabilize a system that, whi
le corrupt, allows trillions of beings to live in relative security then I'm willing to take that risk."

  "And if that's not what this job is?" Twingo asked. "What if you're wrong?"

  "You think I'm wrong?"

  "Oh, I've listened to your line of reasoning with an open mind and I realize you're not quite the back-world simpleton you try to pretend to be, but this is still a stretch," Twingo said. "I'll agree that there's something definitely happening revolving around the banking system, but I'm not convinced that the master AI has become sentient and then suddenly decided to trash the entire quadrant just because. I feel like we've missed a big piece of the puzzle here and that it's not too late to simply withdraw and see how things play out."

  "And what of the battlesynths being used against their will guarding that facility?" Jason asked. "What if it shakes out that I was right and they strike it from orbit, killing hundreds of them? That's something the ConFed would do even if it was already too late to stop it."

  "You're willing to die for them?"

  "There are billions of humans." Jason shrugged and pushed off the wall. "One less won't be noticed. Once the battlesynths are gone, that's it … there will never be any more."

  "So you're doing this for Lucky?"

  "My mind is made up, Twingo," Jason snapped, suddenly irritated at the inquisition. "Yes, I owe Lucky more than I'll likely be able to repay. To allow him to continually risk his life for humanity, as he has, and not be willing to do the same for his people wouldn't say much about me as a friend … or as a man."

  "I just want you to have your thoughts and motivations very clear in your own mind before this starts," Twingo said, unruffled. "The device will be ready and in the armory by the time you're ready to get suited up."

  Jason didn't respond to his friend. He fled Engineering before Twingo could dig in any further on his motivations or the fact that he was planning an assault on what even he would concede were flimsy justifications. As he turned the corner he slammed into an immobile wall.

  "Damnit, Lucky!"

  "I apologize, Captain," Lucky said. "I came to inform you that the Saabror Protectorate fleet has begun broadcasting demands."

  "What the hell?" Jason ran towards the bridge, leaving Lucky standing near the port engineering bay. He was so frazzled that he didn't think to ask why it appeared the battlesynth had been eavesdropping on his conversation.

  "The ConFed had fired a few low-yield missiles at the Saabror flanking ships," Doc said as Jason ran onto the bridge. "They were detonated well short of the fleet."

  "What about these demands?" Jason asked.

  "Here you go," Doc said and turned back to his terminal. On the pilot's right multi-function display a video started, opening with the crest of the Saabror Protectorate.

  "We will not tolerate any further aggression towards our fleet," an alien on the monitor began. Jason had no idea what species it was, but the tendrils that hung from its cheeks were very distracting.

  "The Saabror Protectorate has come to the aid of Khepri to ensure the integrity of galactic commerce is not diminished by ConFed overreach and aggression. If the current ConFed war fleet does not withdraw from the Khepri System, we will assume that their purpose here is aggression, and respond accordingly. Their presence is a threat that cannot be ignored.

  "If the uninvited and unwelcome Eshquarian fleet does not withdraw immediately, we will be forced to view their presence as aggression as well."

  "Short and pointless," Jason said as the video paused and then repeated. "Any response from the ConFed?"

  "No … but local media in Cenk Vale is reporting that battlesynths have been spotted moving into a government facility and forcing out everyone that works there. Government officials have been quoted as saying the lockdown is in response to the increasingly hostile exchanges within the system."

  "Smoke and mirrors." Jason leaned back in the pilot's seat. "The trick is finding out who is working what angle. The warning shots, the meaningless posturing … it was designed to allow the battlesynths to completely secure and lockdown a hardened facility without raising suspicion."

  "Given that our operating theory is that someone wants to destabilize the ConFed, wouldn't we have to assume the Saabror Protectorate, by their presence alone, is working along towards that goal?" Doc asked.

  "Possibly," Jason said. "But ultimately meaningless. Let's prep for our course change … I need you in the copilot seat."

  Before Doc had even settled into the seat and strapped in, Jason dipped the nose down and accelerated along a sweeping course that would take them south. He intended to fly beneath the air traffic control system's sensor coverage threshold and, hopefully, approach the coast of the southern continent without being detected.

  Twingo's questions had shaken Jason's resolve, but the drama being played out in orbit convinced him that he was right. But then why was he so apprehensive about the upcoming op? Before, when he knew he was on firm moral ground and backed up with irrefutable evidence, he'd gone into battle with his friends without a second thought. But this time … there was something nagging at the back of his mind that he was having trouble ignoring.

  "BURKE HAD BETTER HURRY UP," Mok said as he watched the scene unfolding on the other side of the Khepri System. "These guys are primed for a fight and I don't think either is willing to back down."

  "How long before either side starts calling in reinforcements, I wonder," Similan said.

  "That's what I'm afraid of," Mok said.

  So far all either side had done was fire plasma cannon bolts from out of range or detonate missiles in front of the other's formation, but now the ships were redeploying in ways that made Mok think they were about to really mix it up. The frigates and cruisers were dropping back behind the destroyer screens, and on the ConFed side the three battleships, a rare sight by themselves, were moving out front to put their big guns in range. If all they intended to do was fly back and forth and yell at each other they would have likely stayed strung out in a long line as they had when they entered the system.

  His reverie was interrupted by one of his staff sprinting onto the bridge of the ship looking wild-eyed and breathless. She was staring at Mok with a mixture of fear and astonishment.

  "You have something for me?" Mok prompted.

  "It's Minister Arx … he … he's—"

  "Take a moment to compose yourself and then give me the information concisely," Mok said.

  "Minister Arx has been freed," she was finally able to get out. "The holding ship was attacked and Eshquarian Imperial Guards boarded, killed Syodo, and left with Arx."

  "And our people?" Mok demanded, now standing.

  "Minor injuries. One of the crew who remained conscious said that Arx was walking out unrestrained and appeared to be giving orders."

  "I hate loose ends," Mok fumed. "How could they have tracked that ship? It only drops out of slip-space for fuel and provisioning at randomly chosen locations."

  "Sir, there's an Eshquarian battlefleet sitting in this system … perhaps now would be a good time to withdraw," Similan said. "I suggest we leave the two other ships to complete the mission but get you to safety. If Arx has been freed and his position hasn't been compromised within the Empire, it's almost certain he'll come after you."

  "Get me in touch with the human ship," Mok said.

  29

  The Phoenix raced up the shoreline, flying so low only the tips of her stabilizers would have been visible from anyone looking out over the ocean from the cliffs above. Jason stood near the hatchway while Doc and Twingo piloted the ship, the urge to take over as they flew low-level over the water strong.

  "Two minutes!" Twingo called over the intercom.

  Right on cue, Doc pulled back and flared the Phoenix to a steady hover thirty meters over the water nearly half a kilometer off the beach. Twingo reached over and hit the controls that would drop the rear ramp and open the pressure doors. From a monitor on the port bulkhead Jason watched as thirty-one battles
ynths dove off the ramp and into the water.

  Combat Unit 707 had picked the spot for their incursion. He liked that the water was shallow and the surf was mild that time of day. The battlesynths would be able to use their repulsors to quickly make it to the beach without expending too much energy, allowing the Phoenix to be long gone by the time they actually made landfall.

  "Closing her back up," Twingo said. "You're clear."

  "Pulling out," Doc said and throttled up. The Phoenix smoothly climbed slightly and angled back out seaward. They would need to give the battlesynth force enough time to cover ground and begin their diversion before commencing with their own assault. They would loop far out and around and then come in over the base low and fast from the west.

  Jason hoped that the base had the same general sense of complacency that he'd observed on the rest of Khepri. Otherwise it was going to be a bumpy ride going in.

  COMBAT UNIT 707 fired his repulsors one more time, surging towards the shallow trench in the water where he'd chosen to make landfall. He could sense his comrades behind him, all anxious to be back in action. While there had been no sensation during his stasis, no realization of where he was, there was definitely a sense of lost time when he'd been awakened.

  He had agreed to remain hidden when the Master had come to him with the flaws they'd discovered in the other battlesynths, but once he'd learned how long they'd been lying dormant, buried in a muddy hole, he'd become angry. The Master had forgotten about them, had betrayed their trust.

  The other subject that weighted heavily on him was the change in 777. It was inconceivable that he'd taken up with a band of alien biologicals—had taken a name!—like he was one of them. When he'd opted to remain at his human commander's side rather than accompany his lot-mates, 707 couldn't help but feel let down. What had happened to 777 while they were in stasis that caused him to relate more with them than with his own kind?

  "Shoreline is clear."

  "Copy. First unit, proceed."

  "Second unit standing by."