OMEGA FORCE
THE PANDORA PARADOX
JOSHUA DALZELE
CONTENTS
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Also by Joshua Dalzele
Copyright © 2020 by Joshua Dalzele
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1
"So, the little bastard is causing trouble?"
"He's not a bastard!"
"Are you currently acting in a paternal or fatherly manner towards the child?"
"That's not how things are done on Restaria!" Crusher fumed. Kage had worked hard to find an angle to Crusher's story that would irritate the hulking warrior. Calling Crusher's eldest offspring a bastard had done the trick nicely.
"Really?" Kage asked.
"The warrior caste exists in the first place because of a strict selective breeding program," Crusher explained. "I technically have over a dozen offspring, but only three who have the correct traits to join the Legions. The eldest of the three is old enough to be given a leadership position and, apparently, it's not going well."
"What do they want you to do about it?" Jason asked. He'd sat in uncomfortable silence while Kage dug for the nerve, his thoughts on his own abandoned son. He'd been meaning to contact the boy's grandparents to check up on him, but something always came up and, recently, he felt he was putting Jacob at risk if he tried to reach out. The ConFed was coming after them all and coming hard. The intelligence reports coming from Saditava Mok's organization told them the ConFed likely already knew where to find them but was more interested in finding the financial backers of their little rebellion before they sent in their mighty war fleet to stomp them into a greasy spot.
The small insurrection had already lost one of their more powerful ships without the ConFed even firing a shot. The United Earth Navy heavy cruiser, Eagle's Talon, had been recaptured by a special operations team, and Captain Edgars was likely in custody on his way back to a court martial on Terranovus, Earth's colony world where most of its military operations were run from. The loss of the Talon was a significant blow, but it hadn't been a total loss.
Edgars had managed to get the encrypted data core Mok's smuggling network had been bouncing across the quadrant into their hands. Now, Lucky, with the help of an entire bank of specialized supercomputers they'd loaded up in one of the corvette-class ship's engineering bays, worked around the clock to break into the device. It had to be done delicately and precisely as there were undoubtedly safeguards and traps put in place by ConFed Intel.
The work was so exhaustive Jason had pulled Kage, his team's code slicer, off the whole thing when the little Veran had worked himself past exhaustion. Kage was one of the best, but the digital surgery required to break into a military-grade data vault like the one they'd secured was something best left to someone that didn't require food or rest.
"I'm not entirely sure," Crusher continued, breaking Jason's ruminations. "I assume they want me to talk to him, but I know how young male Galvetic warriors are at that age. It won't do any good. Whatever I say to him will likely just make things worse."
"How can you be sure?" Twingo asked.
"Because when my father talked to me, I stole a ship and fled Restaria," Crusher said. "That's how I ended up stuck out here with you assholes."
"How old is this kid?" Jason asked. "You weren't that young when we pulled you out of that box."
"I didn't say we were the same age when this happened," Crusher snapped. Lately, he'd been very sensitive about his age and had made the fatal error of letting the others know it bothered him. Now, they casually worked it into every conversation they could. The conversation droned on aimlessly, and the hum of the Devil's engines worked on Jason's exhausted mind, and soon, he felt his head lulling from side to side.
"Is my tale of family strife boring you?" Crusher demanded.
"Honestly? Whenever you open your mouth, I start to fall asleep," Jason said, standing up. "Goodnight, losers."
"Goodnight, Captain."
Jason clapped Crusher on the shoulder and wandered out of the galley and down the wide main corridor of the main deck. The Devil's Fortune was a brand-new ship, and Omega Force was her first crew since it came out of the shipyard. It smelled new and was so clean and sterile you could eat off the deck…but he still missed the Phoenix. The battered old gunship was small, cramped, smelly, and uncomfortable to live in, but it was a member of the family. The Phoenix had been their home when they needed one. She'd sacrificed herself on countless occasions when asked for the greater good. When they'd called upon her, the ship had used her awesome power to pull them out of hot zones, leaving their enemies in her wake.
The other problem with the corvette-class ship was her size. It was a welcome novelty to have so much space to stretch out in, but it presented some challenges. Omega Force's most common operational environment was on the surface or within an atmosphere. The personnel and equipment were configured heavily for planetary operations, not so much for orbital or deep space. Landing the Devil was technically possible but an enormous pain in the ass. The ship was just over one hundred and forty meters long and weighed close to five thousand tons. At that size, she either had to be cleared to a special heavy-capable starport or be given an exception into an unprepared landing zone and run her grav-drive the entire time to keep most of her weight off the landing pad.
This was simply unworkable for someone as impatient and impulsive as Jason.
That was why he was already making discreet inquiries along their course for anyone who might have a small combat ship available for purchase that would fit in the Devil's hangar bay. The Phoenix had been dropped off on S'Tora so his tech teams could repair the latest round of battle damage and install the upgraded components piling up in a storage unit on their base. He put up with captaining a ship class he wasn't accustomed to by telling himself that once he got his baby back, she'd be better than new. The S'Tora engineering team Twingo had put together really knew what they were doing, and he couldn't wait to see the end results.
He walked past the lift and slipped quietly into the port ladder-well, climbing up the three decks to reach the Command Deck. The lights were subdued for night hours, and the faint strains of a soothing instrumental composition drifted down the central corridor. The bulkheads were paneled in a dark gray wood veneer, and the deck was covered with a soft, dark blue carpet. There was a small but well-equipped galley and, further aft, the captain's suite where Jason now stayed. Moving forward, the corridor opened onto the ship's spacious bridge.
"All quiet?" he whispered into the ear of the only person on the bridge.
"Damnit!"
Doc yelped, jumping out of the command chair. "Stop doing that!"
"I can't help it," Jason said. "The carpet makes it too easy to sneak up on everybody but Lucky."
"It's not funny," Doc grumbled, settling back down into the seat. "And yes…it's all quiet. We're another eleven hours from our first waypoint, and Lucky just reported he's successfully made it past another lock. He estimates it will be another fourteen locks on the device before he can access the data."
"So, we'll be into it well before we need to meet up with Mok and hand it over." Jason yawned. "Make sure Lucky knows I want a complete backup of the device before we give it up."
"Mok explicitly said we weren't to do that."
"So?"
"I just thought I'd point it out," Doc sighed. "You'll do whatever you want anyway."
"See? We understand each other perfectly," Jason said. "I'm hitting the rack. Kage will be up to relieve you in an hour or so."
"Is he sober?"
"Mostly."
Jason trudged back down the corridor and used the biometric scanner on the hatchway to gain entry to his quarters. He walked in and breathed a contented sigh as he looked around. Compared to the Phoenix's cramped stateroom—or even his home on S'Tora, for that matter—the captain's suite aboard the Devil's Fortune was pure, obscene luxury. The furnishings and fixtures looked like something you'd find in the nicest of hotels and, in addition to having its own sitting room, bedroom, and head, the suite was equipped with a small galley of its own. The food synthesizer was state of the art, and he'd been able to program his preferences into it from the Phoenix's database before they'd dropped the gunship off on S'Tora.
"Mok sure knows how to live right," he said, kicking off his boots and falling backwards onto the large bed. "I hope he knows he's not getting this ship back."
The chiming alert of the com panel broke into Jason's dreams. He rolled over and looked at the panel and saw an incoming slip-com call from an address he recognized. Grumbling, he stumbled over to the desk and flicked on the main terminal.
"Webb?" he croaked. "What's up, douchebag?"
"Oh, you're up," Webb said, his voice flat. "Great."
Captain Marcus Webb, former US Navy SEAL and current head of the new United Earth Navy's special warfare section, was someone he considered a friend, but it was complicated. At one point in the past, Webb had actually been ordered to hunt down and kill Jason. That had mostly been smoothed over, but the two still were guarded around one another.
"Don't sound too excited to talk to me," Jason said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "It's not like you called and woke me up or anything. Is this important?"
"This could take a bit to explain, Jason," Webb said. "Do you have a few minutes, and are you sober?"
"Yes, and mostly."
"You remember how you asked me to keep an eye on Jacob for you? Well, funny story—"
"What's he done?" Jason asked. "And how does it involve you? Aren't you still on Terranovus?"
"Yeah, we're still here for now. We have a new planet that's being propped up as a military base, and this one will revert back to being a civilian colony world," Webb said. "And Jacob isn't on Earth anymore. He actually enlisted in the UEAS some years back. Thanks to his test scores and some owed political favors to you back on Earth, his name was flagged, and he was brought here to the Academy. Earned his commission and went into the Marines."
"My kid is some jarhead?" Jason griped. "Figures. But how did he get into the Academy? I guess he could have skipped some grades if he's smart, but isn't there a hard age limit?" Webb just looked at him for a minute, clearly confused.
"Jason…how old do you think Jacob is?"
"He can't be more than seventeen," Jason said, now trying to do the math in his head. "Isn't he?"
"How old do you think you are?" Webb asked.
"I actually have no idea anymore." Jason shrugged. Thanks to Doc's tinkering and the available longevity treatments in the quadrant, Jason looked like he was in his mid-twenties. His aging had reversed to the point he actually looked younger now than when he'd first been abducted.
"For the love of— Jacob is twenty-four years old," Webb said. "He's been a lieutenant in 3rd Scout Corps for a little over a year."
"You have him in one of your cannon fodder Scout Fleet teams?" Jason asked, his voice deadly quiet. Webb swallowed visibly.
"We didn't have much of a choice. It was the only way I could protect him."
"You'll have to help me with that one," Jason said, his voice still quiet and calm. "You're protecting him…by putting him in a forward recon unit with one of the highest mortality rates in your entire operation? I heard that Ezra Mosler was killed in the Reaches. If someone like that can be taken by surprise, how are you guaranteeing my son's safety by putting him in that sort of environment?"
"Look, Burke, I'm just doing the best with what I have. By the time I found out he was even in the military, the people on Earth looking out for him had already shuffled him into the Academy slot as a favor to you. I brought him into NAVSOC because he screwed up and took off running at full speed during an exercise in full view of God and everybody." Webb's face was flushed, and Jason could tell he was being sincere and not just trying to placate him or deflect blame.
"Wait…what do you mean at full speed?" he asked, a knot growing in his gut.
"Ah, you didn't know about that, did you?" Webb leaned back in his chair. "Your boy inherited some of the genetic modifications that you have—or had at the time he was conceived—and certain parties within the military's research divisions would love to take a crack at him. The only way I could keep him out of a lab or a cage was to pull him into my command before anyone knew what was happening."
"What are his enhancements?" Jason asked.
"Dramatically increased speed and strength," Webb said. "Dexterity and ability to heal are also high, but not as apparent as the first two things. I suspect he has other talents, but he's very tight-lipped about it. He was caught by a monitoring drone running through the woods at night at over twenty-five miles an hour. I had to work fast to suppress that after I found out about it."
"Damnit," Jason muttered, looking off-camera. "This isn't what I wanted for him."
"But it's the choice he made for himself," Webb said. "He volunteered for Scout Fleet duty. I assigned him to Mosler's team. He took over the mission when Mosler was murdered and brought it to a successful conclusion. He also managed to track down one of our missing cruisers so we could recover it before ConFed Intel did."
"That was him?" Jason asked. "Edgars mentioned one of your teams had arrived in the area to try and get him. He said he had a plan to deal with it."
"It apparently wasn't enough," Webb said. "Lieutenant Brown managed to subdue the ship's crew and call in the Navy strike force that was standing by to grab it."
"We just missed each other," Jason mused, his eyes tightening as he said it. "So, why bother coming clean to me now?"
"Your kid has gone rogue," Webb said. "He's figured out a way to track down Margaret Jansen—you remember her?—and he's going to try and cut the head off the snake once and for all. Jansen's One World faction has infiltrated so much of our command structure that he doesn't trust us to run the operation or to turn over the vulnerability he discovered. He's decided to write his own orders and go after her alone. Two of the battlesynths from Lot 700 are with him."
"This is giving me a headache," Jason said. "What the hell are they doing involved in this?"
"They seem to have always known who he was. Once they figured out he was in a little over his head, they deployed a support team to help him out."
"Don't you have tracking in his ship? Just go get him."
"He's not in a Navy ship. The Corsair was heavily damaged in the Reaches, and Jacob's team stole an old Eshquarian gunboat from some smugglers," Webb said. "We're not able to track it. We suspect it's too damaged to go on, but we're not sure if the battlesynths have access to a backup ship or if Jacob w
ill simply buy or steal another one."
"Cut off his expense accounts," Jason said. "Easy."
"He's managed to secure independent funding," Webb said uncomfortably. "Apparently, the ship they stole had been loaded down with cash and credits. Your kid is actually quite wealthy." That jogged something in Jason's memory.
"So, he stole a load of money that was obviously being transported for laundering?" Jason asked. "Son of a bitch."
"What?"
"Saditava Mok said a human had tried to jack one of his cash loads," Jason said. "As in, Mok himself…not one of his peons."
"Mok doesn't know who he is, does he?" Webb looked suddenly concerned.
"I don't think so."
"Then we need to keep it that way. So far, we're the only ones who know where that ship came from. If Mok found out that Jacob is your son—"
"It's leverage one way or another," Jason finished. "Either to get me to do something he wants or to pressure Earth. Damn."
"So, you can see why I contacted you," Webb said. "It'd probably be better if you tracked him down than if I try to send someone and possibly have Jansen warned."
The Pandora Paradox Page 1
