Omega Force 09: Revolution

by Joshua Dalzelle

  "I see," Swank went on. "Just a heads up; the conflict between the ConFed and Saabror Protectorate fleets just went hot and they're close enough to Khepri Prime that the risk to the population is significant. Whatever he's doing down there, you might want to tell him to pick up the pace."

  "Understood, Captain," Doc said. "Phoenix out."

  "This isn't good," Kage said. "We can't get a hold of the captain right now."

  "Wow … you figured that out all by yourself? And without your implants working?" Twingo asked.

  "Screw you! I told you that I'm—"

  "Enough!" Doc snapped as more small arms fire peppered the Phoenix's ventral shields. "Pay attention to what you're doing. Kage, use the com suite and see if you can't find a way to get some message to either the captain or Lucky. I don't think Crusher is carrying anything other than a short-range tactical com unit."

  "I'm on it," Kage said.

  "THIS WENT to shit pretty quickly!" Jason shouted as more incoming fire raked across the alloy support pillar he was crouched behind.

  They'd made it nearly to the center of the facility on the top level before they ran into overwhelming resistance. Kheprian regular military along with a couple dozen regular synths armed with some sort of high-intensity plasma burst weapon had them pinned down. The team was near where the large vent stacks that came from the heart of the facility deep underground ran up the center and out to the surface. All of the lifts had been shut down, and without a code slicer they couldn't get them working again, and the three flights of emergency stairs were too heavily defended so that was out. The idea was to use the hollow core of the building's heat extraction architecture to descend down deep enough to light off their device, but the enemy had apparently thought of that too given the number of defenders.

  "WE DO NOT HAVE the numbers to overrun their position," one of the battlesynths said. "It is only a matter of time before they bring reinforcements behind us."

  "When that happens we're well and truly screwed," Crusher shouted over the incoming fire. "We need to figure something—." An especially powerful blast hit the trunnion for an extendable walkway he and Lucky were hiding behind.

  "Crusher!"

  "I'm fine!" Crusher shouted. As the smoke cleared, Jason could see his friend had some deep lacerations along his face and neck and still-smoking shrapnel was sticking out in places on his torso.

  "I will assist." A battlesynth crouched down and began pulling the pieces out, cauterizing the wounds with a laser as it went.

  "Holy shit! Just leave them in!"

  "That is not advisable. Please hold still."

  Jason looked and saw Lucky checking over the device, but he appeared otherwise unharmed. He popped out and let loose with a few more hypersonic rounds from his railgun, momentarily silencing the incoming fire as the enemy dove for cover. The railgun had been the great equalizer in the fight, but the cooling system had been damaged from the shot that had taken out his armor—something he was still highly pissed about—and was on the verge of failure. Once it was gone they'd have no way to suppress incoming fire and he'd be down to a single plasma pistol, a grenade, and his underwear.

  "Captain, we have a problem," Lucky called out.

  31

  The device that Jason and Lucky had been carrying through the firefight within the hardened bunker was, in fact, an antimatter warhead. It was a system devised by Jason and Twingo that siphoned anti-hydrogen and hydrogen from the heart of the Phoenix: her main reactor. More accurately, it was charged from the fuel manifolds. It stored the two components in separate magnetically isolated chambers until it was time for the fireworks.

  It differed from the antimatter warheads on the ship-buster missiles they had in the arsenal in that one person could realistically carry it and, since it was fueled per-use, could be dialed in for a specific yield. For something like a surgical strike against an underground facility when they wanted to minimize collateral damage it was ideal.

  "What's the issue?" Jason asked over the open com channel since he couldn’t get across to where Lucky was.

  "The timer input panel was damaged by the last explosion," Lucky said. "It is completely inoperable."

  "Shit!" Jason fumed. "Options?"

  "Someone will need to manually detonate the device," Lucky said. "The only sure way to ensure the reaction takes place is to fire a weapon directly into the body to breach the containment fields."

  "Roll it over to me," Jason said, his heart dropping as the meaning of Lucky's words sank in.

  "I am sorry, Jason … I cannot do that," Lucky said. "Please get them to the surface."

  Before Jason could figure out what his friend meant, six hands grabbed him in an iron-hard grip he couldn't shake free from. His weapon clattered to the ground and he realized what was happening. Lucky had made his own plans and had included his brethren before he and Crusher could find out and stop him.

  "No!! NOOOOOO!!! DON'T YOU DO THIS!!!" Jason fought against the three battlesynths holding him as two others lay down covering fire and motioned for Crusher to follow.

  "Let me go NOW!!! NOOOO!!!"

  He put everything he had into it. Every emotion came to the surface, all the anger, hate, love, and fear fueled him as he fought to free himself. As good as his enhanced human muscles were, they were no match for what held him. His shoulder throbbed and then burst. He felt his hamstring tear and something in his abdomen let go … but still he fought, only vaguely aware that someone had picked up his railgun and was firing to keep the enemy ahead from getting a shot off.

  The two battlesynths escorting Crusher tore a gaping hole into one of the fresh air vents and fired up the stack to clear out the filtration cap and fan assembly. They grabbed the dazed and injured Galvetic warrior and in a whoosh of repulsor jets went rocketing up the vent. The caps were also protected by an energy shield, but it was designed to keep enemy fire out, not trap anything within, so they passed through the barrier without trouble.

  One of Jason's assailants had let go since the human had injured himself so badly in the struggle there wasn't much fight left in him. The other two grabbed him and, as they had with Crusher, stepped into the vent stack and blasted off towards the surface.

  Jason was numb and he hung limply between them, tears flowing down his face as he refused to fully believe what was about to happen.

  I WATCH as 788 and 748 grab Jason and take him up the vent to where the Phoenix will be able to pick him up. 702 remains behind to assist me, still keeping up suppressive fire as I tear a hole into the exhaust stack that leads down to the facility's self-contained powerplant.

  There is simply no way to get to the transponder and shut it down given how badly we underestimated the resistance we encountered. We also cannot risk bringing the building down since the powerplant was designed to survive such attacks and continue operating. With the option of destroying the transponder gone, I opt to take out the powerplant that feeds it.

  "777, my energy reserves are almost spent," 702 says as he picks up Jason's railgun and keeps firing.

  "Take yourself to the surface while you have the power to fire your repulsors," I say. "I will finish this."

  "You will go into legend, Combat Unit 777," 702 says. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

  "Make sure Lot 700 leaves Khepri," I say, rising to my feet. "And ask Jason Burke to make sure those that we're about to free are looked after."

  "My word." 702 gives me a final salute and steps into the vent stack. He has always been both overly formal and melodramatic, but here, in my last moments, I appreciate it.

  I fire my own cannons to keep my path clear, grab the antimatter warhead, and sprint for the gap in the exhaust vent. I do not regret my decision. I have lived a very long time and have been able to live the last part of my life without regret thanks to Omega Force. If I do not do this, they will not quit, and they will be killed. I will not sacrifice their lives when I alone can end this.

  As I plummet into the darkn
ess, I reflect on my life. My primary processing matrix has time to reflect on numerous things in that short time. I have experienced suffering, pain, and fear such that I hope few in the galaxy ever do. But I have also experienced hope and, as unlikely as it is, love. My adopted family—Jason, Crusher, Twingo, Doc, and Kage—have fought for me, stood by me, and have been the family I never knew I yearned for until they accepted me without reserve.

  If a battlesynth, a machine designed and built for war, can come to feel love for his family—I go to my end knowing that there is still a future for those like me. We can be more than what we are designed for.

  This is it. My internal sensors have calculated that I am within range of the fusion powerplant deep below the surface. I put my right arm-cannon near the opening in the device and wait the last few milliseconds.

  I AM SORRY, Jason … but it is better this way.

  I FIRE.

  32

  "We have lost control of the battlesynths."

  "How did that happen?"

  "I am not certain, Master. The downlink has been severed. The inhibitor signal is gone … they will now do as they please. Some may stay but most will be too confused to fight."

  "The attack on the southern facility?"

  "There has been a massive detonation detected below the surface, Master."

  "Ah, Jason Burke, of Earth … you tried so very hard, and yet you accomplished nothing. Please execute our contingency plan. Sever the links and purge the buffers."

  "It is done, Master."

  "THEY'RE ALL ABOARD, get us out of here!" Crusher said, practically doubled over in pain. "Jason is badly injured … he needs immediate attention."

  "Kage, take over here once we're clear of the area," Doc said.

  "Did everyone make it out?" Twingo asked. Crusher let out a muffled, barking cry and looked away.

  "Oh no," Kage said. "Who?"

  "Lucky," Crusher managed to get out. "Lucky's gone."

  The rest of Omega Force sat in stunned silence. Then Kage let out an anguished wail and grabbed Crusher in a fierce embrace. Doc and Twingo tried to hold it together long enough to get the Phoenix up and out of trouble, but it was a battle they were losing.

  "SIR, the Eshquarian fleet is withdrawing. They've begun meshing-out and the Saabror ships are disengaging."

  "What's changed?" Captain Swank asked.

  "We've been monitoring local media, sir," one of the communications officers said. "There's been a series of explosions at someplace called the Master Exchange Authority, or at least that's how our system translates it. From the context it seems to have something to do with ConFed banking regulation. Apparently this is a big deal. Looking at the time stamps, those fleets began to disengage and withdraw shortly after that incident."

  "Record everything coming off that planet for further analysis," Swank said.

  "We have an inbound channel request from that same address you gave me before, Captain."

  "Finally," Swank muttered. "Put it through." A window opened on the main forward display and the image of a man who looked like he might be thirty popped up. Swank recognized him instantly.

  "My name is Jason Burke, and this is a prerecorded message on behalf of a group of political refugees. I formally request asylum for thirty-six battlesynths on the grounds of political persecution and in accordance with the deal previously negotiated in good faith with the regional government of Terranovus."

  The man droned on a bit more about the legal wrangling that had taken place, obviously reciting off a prepared statement, before thanking the people of Earth and Terranovus for their charity and compassion.

  "The ship that was broadcasting that message just meshed-out, sir."

  "Helm, set course for Terranovus and begin accelerating for our mesh-out point. Communications, please forward that recording to Command HQ along with the statement that I, Captain Jonathan Swank, have accepted the battlesynths' request for asylum on the planet of Terranovus by the authority granted me in the United Earth Armed Forces operational charter."

  "Sending message over the slip-com channel to home now, Captain."

  "Very good. Now let's get the hell out of here."

  JASON AWOKE in the infirmary aboard his ship, strapped down to the bed. The lights were dimmed, and by the sounds and vibrations he could tell they were in slip-space. He gingerly tried to move and found that his injuries had been tended to. There was still a fair amount of pain, but it seemed everything had been knitted up and put back in place.

  "I always seem to wake up in this damn room." He swung his legs over and sat up, waiting as the dizziness passed. He thought back on the first time he was in there, years ago when he'd first boarded the DL7 when it had made an emergency landing on Earth. He thought about his home planet, his childhood … anything to keep from thinking about the thing that opened a hole in his heart.

  "Damn you to hell, Lucky … damn you for making me live while you didn't."

  "That's not the sort of sentiment that he would want to hear from you right now," a voice rumbled out of the darkness.

  "How are you feeling?" Jason asked, flicking the lights up a few degrees with the switch at the foot of the bed.

  "Still not one hundred percent, but I'll survive," Crusher said. "We'll both survive."

  "Yeah," Jason said uncomfortably, not knowing what to say to that.

  "We've lost part of the family, Jason. A great friend and a comrade in arms. Mourn him in the way he deserves, but please don't let this consume you … we still need you."

  "Do you think this even goes on without him?" Jason asked. "How does Omega Force move on without its conscience?"

  "The way we always do it." Crusher stood and shuffled for the door. "We find a way."

  Jason sat for a moment and reflected on what Crusher had just said. He knew that he didn't have the monopoly on grief or guilt. The Galvetic warrior was undoubtedly wracked with the same feelings Jason had, but he was sitting there in an uncomfortable chair not built for his size, still injured, and waiting for him to wake up so he could offer his own words of comfort. The gesture threatened to overwhelm his already fragile emotional state and he could only be thankful for those he shared his life with.

  When he left the infirmary the ship was mercifully on night hours and most everyone was asleep in their quarters. Only Twingo was awake, sitting at one of the port-side terminals while he was on overwatch.

  "How're you holding up?" Jason asked him.

  "I'm just numb right now," Twingo said without looking up. "I think we all are."

  "What's that?"

  "The designs for the antimatter bomb." Twingo's voice was dull and his expression flat. "I just want to see if there was something I could have done differently. A reinforced blast panel, secondary detonation controls … maybe a remote trigger with multiple transmitters."

  "This isn't going to help, buddy," Jason said gently. "We took an untested munition into battle, hit heavier resistance than we could have anticipated, and something unforeseeable happened. It's no more your fault than mine for allowing us to get dragged so deep into a mission with no clear goals or exits."

  "Perhaps." Twingo didn't sound convinced. "It's not going to be same after this, is it?"

  "No," Jason admitted. "But we'll find our way. Go grab your rack. I'll take the watch from here."

  Without another word Twingo got up, hugged Jason briefly, and left the bridge. Jason stared down at the rotating wire model of the device that had killed his friend for a moment on the terminal display before switching it off.

  He had been honest with Twingo: He didn't blame him for something nobody could have predicted. In hindsight had he known the outcome he would have either abandoned the ConFed and Khepri to their fates or tried to end the ordeal by hitting the bunker the transponder was buried in with the biggest missile the Phoenix carried and to hell with the consequences or collateral damage.

  An insistent chirp from the pilot's station caught his attention and he saw t
hat there was an incoming slip-com channel request. He slid into the seat and checked the header, but it was from an untraceable or blocked address. It was also an audio-only request. Curious, he accepted it and leaned back in the seat, waiting for the other party to speak first.

  "Am I speaking to Jason Burke?" the voice asked.

  "Perhaps," Jason said. "Who's this?"

  "You didn't cover all contingencies, Jason," the voice said. "It's one of the great failings of young species. Your brains simply can't comprehend all the possibilities, so you focus on only the most obvious."

  "You're it, aren't you?" Jason leaned forward. "The banking AI … or whatever you call yourself."

  A low, menacing chuckle came through that made Jason's skin crawl. "Thank you for proving my point," it said. "You think that I am that laughably outdated, glorified tabulator? You're even simpler than I perceived. No, Jason, I am not that antique the Kheprians have buried in their planet and lord over the other star systems with … but I am the one that went ahead and destroyed it when you took away my fine infantry force."

  "You what?" Jason asked.

  "You didn't know, did you?" Another chuckle. "While you were fleeing to lick your wounds, I ordered the computer destroyed. My battlesynths had already evacuated the Kheprian security and planted charges throughout the building, so it was a simple matter. The shockwaves of my action are already emanating forth. The ConFed is racing against the inevitable as they no longer have the means to keep their member systems in check.

  "Despite your pitiful best efforts, my goal is achieved. It was maybe not as cleanly as I would have preferred … but the ConFed will fall."

  "You seem quite familiar with me," Jason said. "Have we met?"

  This time he received a hearty laugh instead of a chuckle. "Oh yes … we have met," it said.

  "Care to clue me in?"

  "Where's the fun in that? We'll meet again, I'm certain." The channel went dead, and the computer was no closer to tracing the node address than it had been when he first accepted the request.