Omega Taskforce Series: Books 1 - 3: A Military Sci-Fi Box Set

by G J Ogden

  Suddenly the universe exploded in all around him like a dam bursting and flooding the valley below it. Sights and sounds and smells assaulted his senses. To anyone not trained in aperture travel, it would simply be overwhelming to the point of causing unconsciousness. However, Sterling had travelled through the sub-dimensional doors more times than he could count, so that the only discomfort he felt was a slight twinge of a headache that faded as quickly as it appeared.

  The softly-pulsating red light of the battle-stations alert cast a bloody hue over the bridge. Sterling glanced at the crew members surrounding him, and saw that all their eyes were on the viewscreen. Set against the backdrop of Artemis Colony and the asteroid field that used to be mined for resources was the Fleet Marauder Imperium. This was their sister ship, and the only other Omega Taskforce vessel in the fleet. It was surrounded by three Sa’Nerran Skirmishers. These alien vessels of war were roughly the size of Fleet Frigates, occupying twice the volume of the compact Marauder-class strike vessel that Sterling commanded. However, despite the enemy ships ahead of them being the latest phase-three revision, they were also old. Skirmishers had operated inside the Void for more than forty years, and despite numerous refits, they were a limited threat on their own, which was why they hunted in packs like wolves.

  “Captain, the Imperium has taken a hit to its primary energy distributer,” said Commander Banks, who was the only one peering down at her console. “Main power is down, which is why their weapons and regenerative armor are not functioning. One of the Sa’Nerran vessels has a boarding conduit in place.”

  “Captain, the other two Sa’Nerran Skirmishers have seen us, and are moving to intercept,” said Lieutenant Shade from the weapons console. “They’ve launched torpedoes.”

  “Go straight at them, Lieutenant,” said Sterling, gripping the sides of his captain’s console. The point defense guns that littered the Invictus’ hull would make short work of the Skirmishers’ aging conventional torpedoes. And Sterling didn’t intend to give the alien warriors a chance to shoot any more of them at the Invictus. “Take the bastards down as hard and as fast as you can.”

  “Aye, Captain,” replied Shade. There was no excitement in her voice, nor did she sound anxious. The lieutenant was never anything less than ice cold in combat.

  The point defense guns sprang into action, creating a protective curtain of plasma in the space ahead of them. Moments later the Sa’Nerran torpedoes exploded like miniature supernovas lighting up the darkness of deep space. Then Sterling felt the deck shudder and saw impact warnings flash up on his console. I hate phase-three Skirmishers… he thought, cursing the nimble ships. These Skirmishers may have been old on the outside, but the aliens had retrofitted the aging vessels with the latest plasma weapons. However, despite elements of the enemy warships being state-of-the-art, everything about the Invictus’ was factory fresh. Its regenerative armor plating was strong enough to withstand the initial barrage from the alien vessels, after which there’d be nothing left of the two Skirmishers to shoot back.

  “They’re phase threes, which explains how they managed to disable the Imperium,” said Sterling, glancing across to Banks. “Increase power to the armor covering our reactor and main energy relays. We don’t want to get sucker punched, like McQueen did.”

  “Aye, Captain,” replied Banks, who then quickly made the adjustments on her console.

  “I have a target lock on the first skirmisher…” began Shade. Sterling saw the target locations appear overlaid on the viewscreen. Shade was aiming for their bridge and main reactor, and shooting to kill. “Weapons charged… firing…” A sequence of three vibrant pulses of energy rippled out from the Invictus’ forward plasma rail guns, striking the Sa’Nerran ship cleanly. Moments later the vessel exploded like an atom bomb, sending chunks of debris out in all directions. “Targeting the second ship,” Shade continued, also gripping her console to steady herself against the continued rattles and shimmies from the Skirmisher’s attacks. A target lock appeared on the screen. This time Shade was aiming exclusively for the alien ship’s bridge. “Weapons charged… firing…”

  More flashes raced out ahead of them, each bright blast of energy landing cleanly on the bridge of the Sa’Nerran Skirmisher. The focused attack cut straight through the ship, coring it like an apple. It reminded Sterling of when he had blasted a hole straight through Commander Welsh on the bridge of the Fleet Dreadnaught Hammer, during his own Omega Directive test. He reasoned that this memory should make him feel something - some sort of emotional reaction – but it didn’t. Instead his attention was focused solely on the final Sa’Nerran Skirmisher, which was latched on to their sister ship like a lamprey eel. The sight of this did provoke an emotional reaction. Rage. The aliens had attacked without warning, without mercy and without explanation. Hundreds of millions had already died over the course of the fifty-year war and Sterling was determined to end it, by whatever means necessary.

  “Lieutenant Shade, cripple that parasite on the hull of the Imperium,” said Sterling, almost spitting the words, such was his disdain for the belligerent alien race.

  “Aye Captain,” replied his weapons officer. She then switched to the Invictus’ smaller, more maneuverable plasma turrets and locked on to the Skirmisher’s weapons and engines. The space ahead of them was filled with dozens of rapid flashes of energy. Explosions popped off across the entire surface of the alien ship and soon all of its offensive and defensive platforms were destroyed, along with its engines and maneuvering thrusters. It was a blistering strike done with surgical precision. Sterling doubted that anyone in the fleet could have carried out the attack faster or with more devastatingly accurate results than Lieutenant Shade. Even Commander Banks would struggle to match her pinpoint precision. Whatever skeletons there were in his weapons officer’s closet, there was no question that Opal Shade belonged on the bridge of Invictus.

  “Ensign, hold position here, but keep our main rail guns pointed at that ship, just in case we need to blast the damn thing off the Imperium’s hull,” Sterling continued. His helmsman called out a crisp reply, then the Invictus slowed to a stop a hundred meters from its sister ship and the alien vessel that was attached to it.

  “We’ve suffered minor damage, Captain, but the regenerative armor kept most of it out,” said Commander Banks, peering down at her console. “It’s nothing the repair drones can’t take care of, and the armor is already regenerating.”

  Sterling nodded then stepped to Banks’ side. “What about communications? Can you raise them?”

  “I’m not getting any response on standard comms channels, and I can’t connect to anyone on the Imperium through a neural link, either,” said Commander Banks. She then tore her eyes away from her console to look up at Sterling. “If Captain McQueen is still alive, I have no way to know.”

  “Let me try, I know her better than you do,” said Sterling, returning to his console. His emotions were ramped up from the adrenalin of battle, which made his comment sound more snappish than he’d wished-for. While it hadn’t been his intention to offend his second-in-command, the dirty look that Banks shot him in return suggested he had done so.

  Turning back to the viewscreen, Sterling tried to visualize Captain Lana McQueen standing at her console. Then he tapped his neural interface and reached out to her. His mind was immediately assaulted with a jumble of white noise, like an old-fashioned detuned analog radio. He closed his eyes and tried to sift through the clutter, looking for order amongst the chaos.

  “Lana… this is Lucas, can you hear me?” Sterling said, reaching out across the Void through his neural interface. There was no reply, but the confusion of noise was beginning to subside. “Lana, are you there?”

  “Lucas, is that you?” came the voice of Captain McQueen. It filled Sterling’s mind and drowned out the noise.

  “We responded to your distress call,” said Sterling. “Two of the Skirmishers are atoms. What’s your status?”

  “We’ve been overrun by
a Sa’Nerran boarding party,” Captain McQueen replied. The mental and physical stress she was experiencing was even more evident through their intimate neural link. “They were playing possum, pretending to be dead in space. I ran into one of their torpedoes that they’d dropped like mines, and it took out main power. Half my crew is dead or turned, and the Sa’Nerra have the rest locked down on deck five.

  “Is your position secure?” asked Sterling. He was, admittedly, partly concerned for the wellbeing of his fellow Captain. However, he also needed to know if they were already too late to assist. If that were the case, it would require an intervention on his part of a very different kind, though he didn’t want to go there just yet.

  “I’ve sealed the doors to the bridge, but there are only three of us left up here,” replied McQueen. “I could sure use your help, Lucas, especially if you have the hulk on-board.”

  Sterling smiled. “If you mean Commander Banks, then yes, she’s here,” he replied. He then considered his options, of which there were only two. Attempt to secure the Imperium from enemy hands, or blow it and the Sa’Nerran Skirmisher into atoms where they were. He tapped his finger on the console, pondering the two options, before declaring his decision across the neural link. “Sit tight, Lana, and hold them off. I’m coming to get you.” Sterling was about to sever his neural link when Captain McQueen’s voice again filled his mind.

  “You know as well as I do that Griffin would tell you to blast the Imperium and everyone on it to hell,” said McQueen. “We’re a prime candidate for an Omega Directive. Don’t pretend you haven’t considered it.”

  “We’re not there yet, Lana,” Sterling replied. “But if it comes to that, I will do it.” This wasn’t just talk – he meant it. However, saving the Imperium was still the rational choice. There were only twelve full-blown Omega officers in the fleet. Losing McQueen and the Imperium would set back Griffin’s plans, prolong the war and ultimately mean that more people died. Yet while his reasoning was sound, there was more to Sterling’s decision than simple logic. Lana McQueen was one of their own. “Now stand and fight until we get there,” Sterling added, this time intentionally sharpening his tone. He then tapped his neural interface to sever the connection and opened his eyes. It was then that he realized his bridge crew were all anxiously waiting on his orders.

  “Ensign, warm up the shuttle, we’re going to board the Imperium and take it back,” announced Sterling.

  Lieutenant Shade immediately tapped her neural interface, and in his mind, Sterling heard her issue orders for her alpha commando squad to form up in the shuttle bay. Commander Banks then stepped beside him, her inhumanly strong arms folded across her chest.

  “Griffin will have your ass for this little stunt, you do realize that, don’t you?” Commander Banks said.

  “Only if it goes wrong,” replied Sterling. “So, let’s make sure it doesn’t, okay?”

  Banks nodded then slapped Sterling on the shoulder, almost knocking him off his command platform. “Let’s call this impromptu rescue the Sterling Directive then,” she said, smiling. “Besides, if you get court-martialed or killed, then I get your command.”

  Sterling laughed, though considering that an Omega officer’s humor was generally darker than a black hole, he knew that she wasn’t entirely joking either.

  “If I survive, try not to be too disappointed,” replied Sterling. He then stepped off the command platform and headed for the door, with his second-in-command close by his side.

  Chapter 7

  Combat landing in ten

  Sterling leaned across Ensign Keller and entered his captain’s command override code into the console of their combat shuttle. There was an anxious wait while the computer transmitted the codes to the Fleet Marauder Imperium, during which time Sterling impatiently tapped his finger on the console.

  “Command override accepted. Opening shuttle bay doors,” the computer replied, cheerfully.

  Sterling removed his hand from the console and placed it onto the shoulder of his helmsman. “Take us in, Ensign. And let’s ignore Fleet regulations regarding maximum approach speeds for docking maneuvers, shall we?”

  “In that case, you’d better sit back down, Captain,” replied Keller, though his expression was still deadly serious.

  Sterling slid his hand off the young man’s shoulder and planted himself back down into his seat, opposite Commander Banks. He fastened his harness, drew his plasma pistol then glanced toward the rear of the shuttle. Lieutenant Shade was seated next to Banks, along with four of her commandos, each in full combat armor and armed with a plasma rifle. Shade, like Banks and Sterling, preferred her regular Fleet uniform, with the added protection of a combat vest.

  “Combat landing in ten,” Ensign Keller called back to the waiting assault squad.

  Sterling knew that he’d told the ensign to land quickly, but the speed with which the compact combat shuttle was hurtling toward the docking bay was unsettling. He found himself gripping the side of his chair, as if he were on a rollercoaster that was about to head over a sheer drop. Then he realized that the docking bay doors were already closing.

  “Ensign, the doors!” Sterling called out, noting to his dismay that his helmsman had not adjusted course.

  “Don’t worry, Captain, we’ll make it,” said Keller. There was a confidence in the ensign’s voice that made Sterling feel a little more at ease, but a quick glance across to Commander Banks told him that his first-officer was not persuaded.

  Sterling looked back through the cockpit glass and gritted his teeth as the shuttle punched through the narrowing gap leading into the shuttle bay. The deck shuddered and the screech of metal grinding against metal filled the cabin, but in the blink of an eye they were through. The shuttle thudded onto the deck and skidded forward, then Keller yanked back on the mag-lock lever and the vessel stopped like a fish caught in a net. Lieutenant Shade was on her feet even before Sterling had released his harness. The weapons officer hammered the hatch release and the rear ramp of the shuttle slammed to the deck, like the door of an ancient tomb falling open.

  “Squad move out!” Shade yelled, following her commandos out into the hangar, where they took up positions in two fire teams of two.

  “Ensign, keep the shuttle’s weapons trained on those double doors,” Sterling said to Keller, pointing directly ahead through the cockpit glass. “If anyone comes out, blast them. You got that?”

  “Anyone, sir?” said Keller, sounding hesitant.

  “Anyone, Ensign. We can’t afford to take any chances,” Sterling confirmed.

  “Aye, Captain,” said Keller. Sterling still thought he detected some reticence in the young officer’s voice, but he knew that Keller would do as he was ordered. He always did.

  Sterling then ran down the rear ramp of the shuttle with Banks close behind, but his feet had barely hit the deck of the Imperium before plasma blasts started flying inside the hangar. Sterling used the shuttle for cover and peeked out, spotting four Sa’Nerran warriors. He leaned around the side of the shuttle and fired, hitting one of the aliens in the shoulder. However, Shade’s commandos had taken the rest down before he’d had the chance to fire a second shot.

  “The Sa’Nerra are holding most of the crew on this deck. Send your squad up the port-side auxiliary stairwells to deck one,” Sterling called out, directing the instruction to Lieutenant Shade. “Securing the bridge is our top priority.”

  “Aye, Captain,” his weapons officer called back before issuing the orders to her commandos. “And remember, the Omega Directive is in effect,” Sterling added, his tone grave. “Anyone on this ship who has been turned by the Sa’Nerran neural weapon is no different to the enemy. That means anyone, understand?”

  “Understood, Captain,” said Shade, not showing a flicker of emotion. She then moved ahead to join her squad, while Sterling and Banks followed a short distance behind, weapons held ready.

  “You do realize that if the situation were reversed, Captain McQueen would prob
ably just let the Invictus fend for itself against the Sa’Nerra?” said Banks, while sweeping her pistol to cover their rear.

  “She wouldn’t do that,” said Sterling, moving into cover while one of the commandos set to work trying to force open a door. Then he noticed Banks looking at him, eyebrow raised. “Okay, she might do that,” Sterling admitted, cracking under the pressure of his first officer’s fierce stare. “But I’m not doing this out of some sense of honor. If we can’t stop the Sa’Nerra from taking the Imperium then Griffin will just order us to destroy it, anyway. I want to give Lana a fighting chance to survive first. I’d like to think she’d do the same for us.”

  The door that the commando had been working on slid open and plasma blasts immediately flew through the opening. The commando took a hit and was pulled into cover, while the rest of Shade’s squad returned fire.

  “Still sounds a bit sentimental to me,” said Banks, over the fizz and thrum of plasma weapons fire. “I thought you were supposed to be a ‘cold-hearted bastard’?”

  Sterling was about to answer when a service hatch to his side swung open and a hand grabbed around his neck. Sterling grasped the hand, but the grip was almost inhumanly strong. Banks shot across the corridor, risking being hit by the plasma blasts that were still flying wildly past them and seized the attacker’s hand. Her own phenomenal strength managed to prize the fingers away from Sterling’s neck, then she pulled the body through the hatch and threw it to the deck. Sterling scrambled back into cover, one hand rubbing his bruised neck while the other aimed his plasma pistol at his attacker. However, it wasn’t a Sa’Nerran warrior, but a member of the Imperium’s crew. Sterling saw the spidery pattern of corruption around the officer’s neural implant, before looking into the woman’s distant, vacant eyes. The officer had clearly been turned. Without hesitation, Sterling adjusted the aim of his pistol and fired, blasting the crew member’s head clean from its body.