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

by G J Ogden

  “She eats for two,” said Sterling, undeterred by the crewman’s push-back. He knew the regulations, but he also wanted his grilled ham and cheese.

  “Oh, congratulations, Commander,” the crewmen said, managing a weak smile.

  Sterling almost laughed, but held his composure. Banks shot him a dirty sideways glance then addressed the crewman. “I’m not pregnant, I just have a fast metabolism,” she said, causing the crewman’s face to fall faster than a headman’s axe. “A nine and a twenty-seven will do fine, crewman,” Banks then added. The crewman hastily departed and switched up the order, while Banks continued to glower at Sterling.

  “You’ll eat half of my tray anyway, so I don’t know what you’re looking at me like that for,” said Sterling.

  The crewman then returned with all three meal-trays. A nine, a fourteen, and Sterling’s favorite number twenty-seven.

  “I’d already put the nine and fourteen in the processor, so you may as well have them both,” the crewman said, offering Banks a weak smile.

  “Thank you, crewman,” Banks said brightly, grabbing both trays.

  The crewman nodded then beat a hasty retreat. Sterling collected his tray and followed Banks to a nearby table.

  “I guess this silver stripe has some perks after all,” said Sterling sliding the tray onto the table then sitting down.

  “It was my charming personality, rather than our threatening mystique that got me a second breakfast,” said Banks, tucking into a pile of maple syrup pancakes.

  Sterling snorted a laugh then set to work on the grilled ham and cheese. It was every bit as good as he remembered. Coffee was then brought to their table by another nervous-looking crewman, and several minutes elapsed, during which time Sterling and Banks chatted as they always did. And as usual, Banks put away more food than seemed humanly possible for one person to eat. When they were finished, Sterling threw his paper napkin down onto the tray, feeling suitably sated.

  “We should probably head off to the refit briefing,” said Sterling, pushing his chair back. “I’ve given the crew leave while the upgrades are being taken care of, but hopefully we won’t be here all that long.”

  Banks reached over the table, grabbed the crust of the grilled ham and cheese that Sterling always left uneaten and began nibbling on it. “So long as I keep getting two breakfasts, I don’t mind staying here a few days longer.”

  Sterling looked around the wardroom, noticing that most of the other officers finally seemed to have forgotten about them in the time they’d been sitting. Then he noticed that one of the officers on a table behind him was staring in his direction. He almost looked away, paying it no mind, but then recognized the man and cursed.

  “What is it?” said Commander Banks, becoming suddenly alert as a chair screeched back from the table to Sterling’s rear.

  “Just someone I hoped never to see again,” said Sterling. He was then aware of bootsteps approaching from behind him and a second later he could practically feel the man breathing down his neck.

  “Captain Sterling, fancy seeing you here,” said the man.

  “Captain Wessel, what a coincidence,” replied Sterling, shifting in his seat to face the man. “I didn’t think you ever ventured to the outer sectors. You were always more of a near-Earth guy.”

  Sterling could see Banks out of the corner of his eye. She’d picked up the tension between the two captains straight away, and appeared both vigilant and deeply curious.

  “Well, the war is pushing us all out closer to the Void, these days,” Captain Wessel said, sliding into the empty seat to Sterling’s side. “You don’t mind if I sit down, do you?”

  “Whether I did or I didn’t, it appears that you already have done,” Sterling hit back, straight faced.

  Wessel shot him an oily smile then began tapping his fingers on the table. “So, what has the mysterious ‘Void Recon Unit’ been up to recently?” Wessel continued. He hadn’t looked at or even acknowledged Banks’ presence.

  “Well, Vernon, I think you’ll find that the clue is in the name,” said Sterling, switching to the man’s given name. He knew Wessel had no love for it.

  Wessel laughed, though it was more artificial than the gravity that was keeping them all in their seats. “With the new orders from the UG War Council forbidding incursions into the Void, I guess your little taskforce has its days numbered.”

  Sterling smiled back at his fellow captain, but maintained a poker face that Commander Banks would have been proud of. The use by Wessel of the word “taskforce” had not gone unnoticed to him. And Sterling didn’t believe for one second it was accidental either.

  “Maybe you should read your orders and intel reports more carefully, Vernon,” said Sterling, with more hostility. He detested Wessel and was no longer interested in being polite. The man had already barged in on them uninvited and now he was deliberately trying to tweak his nipples. “The Void Recon Unit still has special dispensation to operate in the Void. By order of Fleet Admiral Griffin, who I think you know.”

  Wessel’s oily smile faded slightly at the mention of Griffin and his finger finally stopped tapping on the table. “For now, you do,” Wessel admitted, reluctantly, “but things are changing fast, Captain. For you more than others.” Sterling could tell that Wessel wanted to say more, but he appeared to fight the urge and instead stood up. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, Captain Sterling,” the officer then said.

  “I can hardly wait,” replied Sterling, impersonating Wessel’s oily, insincere smile.

  “Until then,” Captain Wessel said. Then the man turned and walked away, still without acknowledging or even glancing in Banks’ direction.

  “What the hell was all that about?” said Banks, glowering at the back of Captain Wessel’s head as the snide officer exited the wardroom.

  Sterling ran a hand over his close-cut hair and shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said, still trying to process the motive for Wessel’s unwanted visit. “Vernon Wessel and I were at the academy together. He’s a suck-up and an asshole.”

  Banks smiled. “I take it you two never really got along then?”

  “You could say that,” replied Sterling, though he wasn’t smiling. The memories of his academy days with Wessel were not his fondest ones. “Wessel was always trying to be the big man, name dropping his father and other senior Fleet personnel and making promises he had no intention of keeping. I either called out his bull or ignored him. Both seemed to infuriate him equally.”

  Banks leaned forward and flashed her eyes at Sterling. “Tell me you popped him in the mouth at least once?”

  “Those are the only memories of him I cherish,” said Sterling, watching Banks steal a fruit cookie from his tray. “Wessel is a grifter who only made captain because his father is an admiral.”

  Banks nodded. “He didn’t seem to like it when you brought up Admiral Griffin. Do they know each other?”

  “Let’s just say that Fleet Admiral Griffin and Admiral Wessel don’t see eye-to-eye, either,” replied Sterling. “Admiral Wessel commands the Earth Defense Fleet, and his pissant son is the captain of a Heavy Destroyer in the Perimeter Defense Taskforce. My left toe has seen more action than the two of them put together.”

  “The perimeter taskforce operates on the edge of the solar system,” said Banks, mopping up some jam with a crust of bread. “Captain Wessel is a long way from home out here.” Then she paused, jam-soaked crust held mid-way to her mouth. “Do you think his mention of our unit as a ‘taskforce’ was just a slip of the tongue?”

  Sterling stroked his top lip with his thumb and cast his eyes in the direction of the exit, as if Wessel was still standing there, watching him.

  “No, I don’t think it was a slip-up at all,” Sterling answered, feeling his stomach knot slightly. “But whatever the reason is that he’s here, I have a feeling that it’s bad news for us.”

  Chapter 16

  Any upgrade is worth it

  Sterling stood at t
he viewing gallery window and gazed out at his ship, the Fleet Marauder Invictus. The Heavy Cruiser that was in a dock two pylons along dwarfed the Marauder-class Destroyer in terms of size, but the Invictus still managed to look more aggressive. It was like a scorpion compared to a pit bull terrier.

  “Repairs and upgrades are all done, Captain,” came a voice from behind him. Startled, Sterling jerked around to see Lieutenant Commander Crow, smiling amiably at him.

  “How long have you been there?” snapped Sterling, wondering how the engineer had managed to sneak up on him unawares.

  “Only for a few seconds, Captain,” replied Crow. The engineer was apparently unaware he’d startled his captain. “I was admiring the Invictus too.”

  Sterling nodded then saw that Crow was holding a personal digital assistant in his right hand. “So, what upgrades have F-COP’s engineers, in their infinite wisdom, decided to bestow on my ship?” he said, nodding toward the PDA.

  “Nothing much, I’m afraid, sir,” replied Crow, the disappointment evident in his voice. “It was mainly routine updates to processing cores and software, plus some enhanced power relays and rail gun components.”

  “So, no ‘death rays’ then?” said Sterling, smiling.

  Sterling’s question caused Crow to frown down at his PDA. A holographic screen then extended in front of the engineer, projected from the small device, which itself was no larger than a deck of playing cards.

  “I don’t see any death rays, sir,” Crow said, scrolling through the work orders. “They must have missed that. I’ll speak to the project manager right away.”

  “Relax, Lieutenant Commander, I was joking,” said Sterling, stopping Crow from scurrying away.

  “Oh,” replied Crow, looking more perplexed than he did embarrassed. Humor was a concept the engineer struggled with. “Very funny, sir,” Crow then added, faking a smile and a polite laugh.

  Sterling turned back to the window and looked out at the Invictus again. F-COP had already begun to feel stifling and claustrophobic to him, despite its vast size. And now he was looking out at his ship, tethered to the station like a captive animal, he had a growing urge to get on board and get underway. With the upgrades complete, there was no longer any reason to stay, so in that moment, Sterling decided to unhook the chain and leave. Tapping his neural interface, he reached out to Commander Banks to notify his first-officer of his decision.

  “Mercedes, let the crew know that we get underway at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow,” Sterling said to Banks in his mind. “That way they can have one final hurrah in the bars on F-COP tonight.”

  “Aye, Captain,” said Banks. However, his first officer hadn’t replied inside his head – the voice was real and had come from behind him. Sterling again jerked around and saw the commander standing to the side of Crow, hands on her hips. “Are you planning a final hurrah too?”

  “Damn it, will you all stop sneaking up on me?” complained Sterling. “And no, I’m not planning a final hurrah, or even a first one, for that matter.”

  Banks frowned. “Someone is cranky this evening,” she said, snatching the PDA from Crow’s hand and scanning the work orders.

  “Sorry, it’s just that I’ve had enough of F-COP,” replied Sterling, staring over at the Invictus again. “I’m sick of people looking at us like we’re escaped murderers. This place is all talk and noise and no action.”

  “Well, at least one of us got some action,” Banks replied, with a not-so-subtle raising of her eyebrows.

  Commander Crow’s eyebrows also climbed toward his hairline and he suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable. However, the engineer simply remained where he was, standing as still as possible, perhaps in the hope that neither Banks nor Sterling would remember he was there.

  “There’s still time to arrange some transfer orders,” Sterling hit back, glowering at his first officer. The jibe about his casual liaison with Captain McQueen was so thinly veiled that Banks may as well not have bothered trying to hide it.

  “Apologies, Captain,” said Commander Banks, appearing to actually mean it.

  Sterling decided to let it slide. Joking at inappropriate moments was not an uncommon trait of Omega officers, and it was a flaw that Mercedes Banks, in particular, struggled with. However, nobody was perfect, Sterling considered, least of all himself, so if he couldn’t forgive the flaws in others, it would simply make him a hypocrite.

  “The rest of the crew have been enjoying the break from the confines of the Invictus,” Banks continued, scanning through the entries on Crow’s PDA. “All except one person, anyway.”

  Sterling huffed a laugh. “Let me guess. Lieutenant Shade?”

  Banks smiled and nodded. “She doesn’t really like Fleet, to put it mildly. She hasn’t left the ship since we docked.”

  “I don’t give a damn what she does in her spare time, so long as she keeps killing Sa’Nerrans with the same proficiency she’s shown so far,” said Sterling. He spoke the words with the sort of icy detachment that Shade herself would have been proud of.

  Commander Banks then held the PDA back out to Crow, who took it without saying a word before resuming his statuesque pose.

  “These upgrades hardly seem worth hanging around here for,” Banks said. “Other than the moderate boost to our plasma rail gun efficiency, the upgrades won’t count for a lot in the field.”

  “Any extra advantage is worth it, Commander,” replied Sterling, again staring out at the Invictus. He found the sight of the vessel soothing and was absorbed by its sharp lines and smooth panels.

  “Captain Sterling.”

  Sterling jerked around again, this time seeing Fleet Admiral Natasha Griffin standing behind him. Banks appeared her usual, unflustered self, but the proximity of the Fleet Admiral had made Crow look like a schoolboy waiting outside the principal’s office.

  “Are you okay, Captain?” Griffin asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  “I’m fine, Admiral,” said Sterling, checking to make sure that Banks wasn’t about to make an inappropriate quip. Mercifully, this time she remained silent. “I’m just itching to get back into action, that’s all,” Sterling added.

  Admiral Griffin nodded, clearly satisfied with Sterling’s answer. “Well, you’ll get your chance soon enough, Captain,” she said. She then turned to Lieutenant Commander Crow, who returned a slightly manic-looking smile. Unfortunately, Sterling’s chief engineer was not one to smile often and the unfamiliar expression made him look like a simpleton. “Take a walk, Lieutenant Commander,” said Griffin, glaring at the engineer like he’d just barged in on her in the rest room. Crow’s uncomfortable smile fell away and the officer scurried off, again without a word.

  Commander Banks also made to leave, but Griffin raised a finger to stop her. “You can stay, Commander Banks,” the Admiral said. Banks halted and stepped back, standing to attention. However, Sterling could read his first-officer like a book. Banks’ expression conveyed her clear surprise that the Admiral had not told her to get lost as well.

  “What’s wrong Admiral?” said Sterling. “I haven’t seen that look on your face since the Dreadnaught Vanguard went missing.”

  Griffin checked around her then tapped a device on her wrist. The doors to the observation lounge closed and Sterling immediately felt light-headed, as if he was experiencing vertigo, but then the sensation quickly passed. Banks was gently slapping the side of her head, like she was trying to shake out water that had become lodged in her ear during a shower.

  “That was just a neural and EM inhibitor field,” said Griffin, answering the unspoken question. “I want to be sure we’re not overheard.”

  Sterling frowned. “Aren’t they illegal?” he asked, still curious as to where Griffin was getting her secret gadgets from.

  “Yes, captain, they are,” Griffin replied in a way that told Sterling this was the only answer he would get.

  Sterling then noticed that Banks was frowning at the Admiral. He could see the hyper-defined mus
cles in her arms had tensed up.

  “Has something happened to the Imperium, Admiral?” Commander Banks then said. Sterling couldn’t deny that his first-officer’s question was far more relevant than the one he’d asked.

  “I’ve lost contact with Captain McQueen,” confirmed Admiral Griffin, stoically. “She was due to report back over twenty-four hours ago. Encrypted aperture relays were in-place to transmit her reports, but so far nothing.”

  “The relays could have been destroyed, or perhaps just malfunctioned?” suggested Sterling.

  Griffin shook her head. “They’re operational, Captain. The Invictus and the Imperium may be the only two Omega Taskforce warships in active service, but I have additional resources in and around the Void too,” she said, mysteriously. Sterling would usually take the opportunity to push Griffin a little harder to reveal more details. However, there was too much urgency on this occasion, and all he wanted to do was learn more about the Imperium and the fate of McQueen.

  “I’ll cancel leave immediately. We can be underway in an hour,” said Sterling, nodding to Banks. His first-officer then moved far enough away from the admiral to escape her jamming field. Banks then tapped her neural implant to relay the order to the crew.

  “I would usually say good hunting, Captain, but on this occasion, I urge caution,” said Admiral Griffin. This surprised Sterling more than Griffin’s request for Banks to remain present during the snap briefing. The Admiral was never one to urge caution. “Whatever the Sa’Nerra are building, I have no doubt that its purpose it to bring Fleet to its knees. The United Governments' senators are gaining traction with the admiralty to pursue a negotiated peace. They are wary of committing battleships to the front-line for fear of them being captured. Once word of the new neural weapon reaches the UG senators, it will only strengthen their resolve to pursue negotiations.”