by G J Ogden
“They’re here to capture the Invictus and its crew,” said Sterling, feeling his grip on the handle of the pistol tighten. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was letting the Sa’Nerra take his ship. “We need to move fast.”
Lieutenant Shade took the lead as the group weaved through the back alleys and side-streets. The rain had stopped, but the mud underfoot still hampered their progress, and made stealth almost impossible. Sterling rounded a corner in pursuit of Shade, getting a clear glimpse of the Invictus for the first time, then caught movement in his peripheral vision. He slid to stop and aimed his weapon.
“Shade, get down!” Sterling yelled, firing up toward the roofline of the building to their side. He hit a turned colonist in the leg and the man tumbled off the roof and landed face-first in the yellow-brown mud. Then more colonists appeared on the roof and bullets hammered into the wall and clattered off metal shutters all around them. Shade took a hit to her combat vest, but it only seemed to make her angry. Aiming the ancient shotgun skyward, she unloaded the weapon, filling the air with a boom that made their plasma weapons sounds like toys. Two more colonists fell from the rooftop, but the final attacker took cover behind a metal chimney vent that ran down the side of the building into the ground beside them.
“Damn it, we need to clear him off there before we can move onto the ship,” said Sterling, shuffling around in order to get a better angle, but the man remained hidden.
Banks shoved the handgun into the holster for her plasma pistol, which fitted the weapon surprisingly well, then grasped the metal chimney.
“Get ready,” Banks said, looking at Lieutenant Shade as she said this. Then she sucked in a lungful of the cold, damp air and heaved on the chimney stack. The groans and creaks of twisted and broken metal filled the air as the chimney was torn away from the wall. Mortar and brick fell from the roofline, closely followed by the colonist, who had apparently been resting back against the chimney to catch his breath. The man bounced off the metal tower and landed hard, snapping his knee in the process. Yet, despite the brutal fall and injury, the man didn’t cry out in pain. Shade raised her shotgun, ready to fire, but before she could squeeze the trigger, Banks had slammed the metal chimney stack down across the felled colonist, crushing its body into the mud.
“I thought you said get ready?” said Shade, frowning at Banks.
“Get ready in case I missed,” replied Banks, breathing heavily as a result of her stupefying feat of strength. Then the Invictus’ first officer pointed down to the flattened colonist. “But as you can see, I didn’t miss.”
Sterling moved ahead this time, slapping his first officer on the shoulder as he darted past. “Come on, before that ship changes its mind and decides to just blast us into atoms instead.”
No sooner had Sterling said this than plasma blasts erupted from the Sa’Nerran Light Cruiser. Sterling skidded to a stop, hands pressed to his head, watching the energy shards strike the hull of his ship. Energy crackled across the surface, and black scars appeared. Sterling was helpless to intervene as another volley struck the ship, this time to its port quarter. The regenerative armor again soaked up the impact, but the attack whittled down the ship’s protective coating to the bone. Another strike would cripple the ship, but Sterling was powerless to intervene. Teeth gritted and blood pumping furiously in his veins, Sterling looked on, waiting for the Sa’Nerran warship to deal the death blow. Then another flash of plasma lit up the sky, but this time it wasn’t from the Sa’Nerran Light Cruiser. The alien ship was struck hard on the command section, and began to veer wildly off course. Another roar of thunder surrounded them, this time near-deafening in its intensity. Sterling peered into the sky and saw another vessel puncturing through the clouds. He wasn’t a man to give himself over to overt displays of emotion, but even Sterling couldn’t help but shake his fist and let out a primal roar of exaltation.
“It’s the Imperium!” cried Commander Banks, sliding to a stop at Sterling’s side.
Their sister ship unleased another full volley from its forward plasma rail guns, striking the Sa’Nerran light cruiser cleanly across its back. The ship exploded violently in mid-air, like a nuclear airburst. Sterling’s eyes widened as hunks of the ship flew out in all directions. Banks threw her arm around him and pulled them both into cover as debris peppered the buildings all around them, smashing walls like they were made of sand. Fragments of brick and splinters of wood began tumbling down on top of them. Sterling and Banks held onto each other, cowering under what little cover they had. Then when the falling debris had subsided, Sterling discovered that he was smiling.
“What’s so amusing?” said Banks, shaking dust from her hair. Then her eyes widened and she cottoned on to the reason Sterling was looking so smug. She folded her arms, which were stained with blood, yellow-brown mud and dust. “Go on then, say it,” she said. “I’m know you’re dying to.”
“I told you that Captain McQueen would do the same for us…” Sterling said, unable to shake the smile from his lips.
Chapter 12
McQueen to the rescue
Captain Sterling watched the Fleet Marauder Imperium kick out its landing struts and drop into the mud beside the Invictus. The two lean and mean Fleet warships cut an impressive sight against the stormy backdrop of Vega Two, especially with the burning wreckage from the downed Sa’Nerran ship adding to the sense of atmosphere.
“Captain, this is Lieutenant Commander Crow, can you read me?” came the voice of Sterling’s chief engineer in his mind.
Crow sounded oddly calm and even a little bored considering the engineer had almost been blown up only minutes earlier. All of the Omega officers were a little closed off and aloof in their own ways, so in itself this fact shouldn’t have surprised him. However, that his crew had gelled as a unit at all was remarkable, and testament to Admiral Griffin’s ability to pair the right people into a team.
“I’m here Lieutenant Commander, what’s the damage?” replied Sterling over the neural link. He wanted to get straight to business, before Crow selfishly decided to raise the subject of rock hunting again.
“We’ve sustained moderate damage, Captain,” the engineer replied. “My quick and decisive actions in diverting power to our regenerative armor matrix ensured the ship is fully-repairable. However, I’m afraid we’ll need to return to a major repair dock.”
Sterling balled his hand into a fist then pressed it against his leg to stop himself shaking it angrily into the dark sky. “Are you sure you can’t just fix her up out here?” he hit back. He wanted to avoid the need to return to one of the larger repair stations in UG Fleet space if he could help it.
“Even with my superior engineering abilities, I estimate that we’ll be operating at no more than seventy percent,” Crow replied, as haughtily as ever. “Should we, as is likely I suspect, end up in a battle with another Sa’Nerran vessel, our chances of survival would be greatly reduced.”
Sterling cursed under his breath then hovered his hand beside his neural implant. “Understood, Lieutenant Commander, continue what repairs you can and I’ll return shortly.” He then tapped his neural interface a little harder than intended and shook his head.
“Bad news?” asked Commander Banks, who Sterling now realized had been watching him.
“We’ll need to return to Fleet space for repairs,” said Sterling, unable to hide his disappointment and frustration.
“Griffin is going to eat you for breakfast,” said Banks, her smile as inappropriate as her comment.
“Thanks, Mercedes, it’s good to know that you’re always on hand to cheer me up,” Sterling hit back.
“Relax,” said Banks, slapping Sterling on the shoulder and knocking him two paces forward. “That old battle-axe loves you more than she loves her own son.”
“She hates her son,” Sterling replied, raising his eyebrows. “She calls him a moron and a disgrace to the Griffin name.”
“There you go then!” said Banks.
Sterling frow
ned, unsure of whether Banks was still teasing him or if she genuinely thought her comment was complimentary. However, the appearance of Captain Lana McQueen in his peripheral vision diverted his attention. His fellow Omega Captain was trudging toward them, practically ankle-deep in the mud.
“What took you so long?” said Sterling, folding his arms and attempting to mimic the pose McQueen had adopted after he’d stormed onto her bridge.
“Space is pretty big,” replied McQueen, with a wicked grin. “Besides, I can’t stand the fact that I owed you one, so I thought I’d settle the score.”
Sterling nodded his head to McQueen, respectfully. “Well, thank you Captain. You got here literally in the nick of time.”
McQueen returned the nod. “You could have picked a nicer planet to need rescuing on, though,” she said, gesturing the mud coating her boots and the bottoms of her pants.
“How the hell did you know to come after us, anyway?” Sterling asked with a curious scowl. “Just a few seconds longer, and the Invictus would be the one burning to cinders on this rotten world, instead of that Sa’Nerran hunk of crap.” Sterling cast his eyes over the flaming orange inferno, which was all that remained of the Sa’Nerran warship McQueen had pulverized.
The smug look on McQueen’s face suggested that she was glad Sterling had asked. “Well, here’s the thing,” she began, sounding like a TV detective that was about to launch into a startlingly-brilliant monologue revealing who had committed the crime and why. “When we were sweeping up the rest of the Sa’Nerra on my ship, we found that some had a yellowy-brown mud dried to their boots. You mentioned Vega Two, which is the yellowy-brownest ball of mud I know.”
Sterling’s scowl deepened. “That’s pretty tenuous. There are a hundred muddy planets where that warrior could have been.”
McQueen then raised her finger in a classic “ah ha!” gesture, again like a cheesy TV detective. “If you hadn’t mentioned Vega Two, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it either,” she continued. “But we managed to get enough information out of their navigation computer to learn the recent comings and goings in the Vega Two system. And one of the goings was a Sa’Nerran Light Cruisier.”
Sterling shrugged. He was already getting bored. “So? Still seems like a leap to me. Not that I’m complaining.”
“It sure sounds like you’re complaining, Captain,” McQueen snapped back. “Anyway, long story short, the cruiser navigated above the pole then disappeared. That’s when I knew you were heading into a trap.”
Sterling shrugged again, but he was smiling too. “Pretty smart. I guess,” he said, making a concerted effort not to sound too impressed. McQueen just shook her head at him.
“The bigger question is how the hell that Sa’Nerran cruiser knew we were coming,” said Commander Banks, cutting to the chase. “And also why the ‘turned’ colonists on this rock all sound like brainwashed cultists.”
This time it was McQueen who scowled. “What do you mean? The turned colonists here could actually talk?”
“That’s an understatement, I could barely shut one of them up,” Sterling replied, thinking back to the verbose colonist that he’d eventually silenced by shoving a metal bar down the man’s throat. “It seems that the Sa’Nerra have enhanced their neural control weapon. To what extent, I don’t know. But there’s a chance some of the other turned colonists aren’t entirely dead yet, which means we can take a couple back for analysis.”
McQueen scrunched up her nose then shook her head. “Damn, that opens a can of worms,” she said, anxiously looking around herself in case a colonist might have been sneaking up on her. “I’ll have my team scout the area for any survivors.”
Sterling nodded then turned to Lieutenant Shade, who had been standing to the side, silently observing and awaiting orders.
“Lieutenant, check to see if any of the colonists in the bank are still breathing,” Sterling said. Then he noticed that only two commandos were flanking his weapons officer and frowned. “Did we lose all the rest?”
Shade nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll need to take on new men when we return to Fleet space,” she replied, speaking as though she were talking about collecting a few extra bags of groceries from the store.
“Very well,” said Sterling with matching aloofness. “I’ll contact Admiral Griffin and let her know what happened. We should make ready to leave in thirty. We don’t know how many other alien ships are lurking around here.”
“Aye, Captain,” Shade replied, then she moved off through the rain with the two commandos in tow.
“I like her,” said Captain McQueen, hooking at thumb toward the departing weapons officer.
“No, you can’t have her either,” said Sterling, a little more defensively than he’d intended. McQueen was always trying to thieve his top officers. Then he had a thought. “Though, if you need a medical officer…”
Captain McQueen snorted a laugh. “Graves?” she said, derisively. “I heard the guy is so good he could surgically re-attach an eyelash, but he’s also one creepy S.O.B. So, no thanks.”
Sterling shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
Captain McQueen then tapped her neural implant and was silent for a moment while conversing with one or other members of her crew. Sterling waited for her to finish her neural conversation, then McQueen tapped her implant and blew out a sigh.
“We dropped a sensor buoy in orbit before we came down here,” McQueen said, speaking out loud again. “Four phase three Sa’Nerran Destroyers are heading this way. Time to leave I think.”
Sterling cursed. He could have done with more time on Vega Two to piece together what had happened. However, he knew they were in no shape for another fight. Resigning himself to the inevitable need to withdraw, sterling tapped his neural implant and ordered Ensign Keller to prepare to take off. Then he again turned to McQueen.
“Where are you headed from here?” Sterling asked his counterpart.
“We’ve been ordered to return to F-Sector COP,” McQueen replied. “Admiral Griffin apparently wants to speak to me, so I assume that’s where you’ll be heading too.”
Sterling glanced at Banks, who appeared unimpressed by McQueen’s news. Neither of them liked the Combat Outposts, or COPs as they were known. They were the highest-ranking outposts in each sector, and were usually teeming with Fleet personnel. Most of these officers and crew, and even the civilian inhabitants, looked at the unique uniforms of the clandestine “Void Recon Unit” with more than a little suspicion. The Omega Taskforce was top secret, so naturally half the fleet had heard rumors about it. Many of these rumors revolved around the idea that the VRU was simply a cover for this super-secret elite unit. For once, the rumor mill had churned out the truth.
“I’ll confirm our destination before we leave and let you know,” said Sterling. Then he shot McQueen a wicked smile that she herself would have been proud of. “You can perhaps be my escort back to Fleet space, if you like?”
“Like hell,” McQueen snorted. “But if you want a race back to F-COP, you’re on.”
Sterling snorted right back. “I’m surprised you think I’d entertain such a petty endeavor,” he replied, with a haughtiness worthy of Lieutenant Commander Crow. It was a bare-faced lie, of course – Sterling fully intended to beat Captain McQueen back to F-COP.
“Suit yourself, loser,” said McQueen. Then she shot them both a lazy salute. “I’ll see you slowpokes back at the COP.”
Sterling waited for McQueen to trudge off back toward the Imperium then surreptitiously went to tap his neural interface. His intention was to order Ensign Keller to ramp up their engines and prepare for a high-power burn to the aperture. However, he noticed that Commander Banks was already in communication with someone. Curious as to who she was speaking to, Sterling waited until she tapped her interface to sever the link, then meet his eyes.
“Who were you just speaking to?” Sterling asked.
“Ensign Keller, of course,” replied Banks, smiling. “You want to beat McQueen back to F-
COP, right?”
Chapter 13
A two-horse race
The Fleet Marauder Invictus surged through the aperture and all the sights, sounds and senses of the universe exploded back into existence. Any trip through an aperture was disorientating, but the multiple surges in close succession that Ensign Keller had performed in their race to F-Sector COP had left Sterling’s head feeling like jelly. The deck plating was also still shuddering from the frankly unsafe velocity that Ensign Keller had exited the aperture at. However, even after Keller had throttled back and the rattle through the ship had subsided, Sterling discovered that his legs were still quivering like a frightened puppy.
“Did we make it?” said Commander Banks, practically falling over the top of her console. “Did we beat them?” There was a flash of light on the viewscreen, like a million camera bulbs all going off at the same time. Then the Fleet Marauder Imperium emerged from the aperture and immediately initiated a hard deceleration burn. Commander Banks whooped uncouthly then thumped her fist onto her console, creating a dent in the far-right corner.
“You did it, Keller!” Banks hollered. “You beat them, and with a ship that’s well below one-hundred percent, too!”
Ensign Keller spun his chair around to face the command platform, a smile beaming from ear to ear. Sterling threw up a casual salute in his helmsman’s direction.
“Good job, Ensign!” said Sterling with an enthusiasm almost matching that of Banks. “Captain McQueen will be sore about this one for months.” Sterling then glanced over to the weapons console to also congratulate Lieutenant Shade. However, Shade was simply standing at her post, hands pressed to the small of her back, looking like she was attending a funeral. “Come on, Lieutenant, how about a little holler? We won!”
Lieutenant Shade sighed then reluctantly raised her fist in a half-assed gesture of solidarity.
