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

by G J Ogden

  “What’s your ETA, Ensign?” Sterling asked his helmsman through a neural link.

  “Overhead in ten, sir,” replied Keller, his voice again brisk and efficient.

  Sterling closed the link then nodded to Banks and Shade. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve had enough of this town,” he said.

  “No argument from me, sir,” said Banks.

  “I’ll miss the fights,” said Shade, surprising Sterling not for the first time that day.

  “On three,” said Sterling, turning the power setting of his plasma pistol to maximum. He counted down in his head and burst out in the street.

  Plasma blasts flashed from their pistols and two Sa’Nerran warriors fell, kicking up dirt and stones as their lifeless bodies crashed to the ground. Running up beside the truck where the rude kid had flipped him the bird earlier, Sterling and the others took cover from the plasma fire that was returned in their direction. Glancing inside the truck, he saw the kid, hunkered down in the footwell. Plasma blasts were ripping into the side of the vehicle and already several holes had been punched through the thin metal doors.

  “Hold them off,” cried Sterling, handing his pistol to his first officer. Banks took the weapon without question and continued to shoot at the advancing warriors. Sterling then peered skyward and spotted the predatory shape of the Invictus on the horizon, heading toward them fast. Yanking the door of the truck open, he saw the Sa’Nerran Skirmisher through the smashed window of the vehicle. It was heading their way and was only a few hundred meters behind the alien ground troops.

  “Kid, come on,” said Sterling reaching inside the truck. The other side of the vehicle was already almost destroyed, leaving barely any cover for the boy. The kid reached for Sterling’s hand and he pulled him out of the cab, turning his back to the warriors as he did so. He felt the thump and burn of plasma blasts strike his body armor, and grimaced against the pain.

  “They’ve got a ship!” the boy cried as Sterling placed the kid inside the back of his rover, which was still parked next to the truck. Unlike the vehicle he’d rescued the boy from, the rover was hardened against plasma blasts and conventional firearms. “Their ship is coming! We’re going to die!” the boy cried.

  Sterling pushed the kid’s head below the door then leaned inside. “These alien assholes aren’t the only ones with a ship, kid,” he said, casting his eyes up to the sky. The boy followed the line of Sterling’s gaze, then the Invictus roared overhead. Moments later the air was split by the piercing, shrieking wail of six plasma rail guns all firing in unison. The flash of light was blinding, and was followed a moment later by another eruption of light and flame as the Sa’Nerran Skirmisher was utterly obliterated. The Invictus descended; the pressure from its thrusters blowing people across the gravel like litter. The lower hold opened and the squad of commandos piled out, making short work of the remaining Sa’Nerran warriors on the ground.

  Sterling lowered his weapon and turned back to his officers. Shade had now switched from her angry face to her blank, emotionless expression, which signified to Sterling that everything was under control. However, Commander Banks looked like someone had just shot her dog.

  “What’s wrong, Commander?” asked Sterling. Out of everyone, he expected Banks to be the one celebrating. Unexpectedly, Banks then turned to Sterling and raised her arms, showing rips in the sleeves of her shirt and down the thighs of her pants.

  “I told you this damned civvy clothing is a bunch of crap,” she said, sliding her fingers into the various holes and tears. “I can’t wait to get my uniform back on.”

  A whoop from behind him gave Sterling a fright, and he spun around to see the boy standing on the back of the rover, hands in the air.

  “Holy shit, that was so cool!” the boy cried, leaping up and down on the back of the rover like it was a trampoline. Parts of the destroyed Skirmisher were still falling from the sky like fireworks.

  Sterling snorted a laugh then glanced across to his ship, which had now set down and was awaiting their return. It looked majestic under the late evening light of the planet’s star, like a bird of prey, surveying its hunting ground.

  “You’re not wrong there, kid,” he said, smiling.

  Chapter 28

  Surge at two-fifty

  Sterling grasped the sides of his captain’s console, putting a little more weight onto it than usual, due to the pain that still throbbed in his back from the Sa’Nerran plasma blast. He’d briefly allowed Graves to administer first-aid to the wound. However, Sterling was in too much of a hurry to get back to the bridge for the doctor’s ministrations to have had much effect. Lieutenant Shade had also allowed Graves to quickly treat the worst of her injuries before insisting that she return to her post. Under normal circumstances, Sterling would have ordered that Shade remain in the medical bay to be treated fully for the numerous injuries she’d sustained during the cage fight with the alien warrior. However, their circumstances were rarely ordinary and their current predicament was no exception.

  “The Sa’Nerran strike force has spotted us, Captain,” said Commander Banks from her station beside him. She was still wearing her torn civilian clothing, and together with Sterling and Shade, it looked like a group of vagabonds had commandeered the Invictus. “The remaining five Skirmishers are all out of position, searching the other planets and moons in the system. But the three Destroyers and MAUL remained in a group.”

  Sterling tapped his console and brought up a long-range image of the main strike force on the viewscreen. Even from their current, safe distance, the looming presence of MAUL was unsettling. He quickly calculated the projected course of the various enemy vessels, while rubbing the tired muscles in the back of his neck. All courses eventually intersected with their own. The only variable was the time it would take the ships to intercept the Invictus.

  “So, it’s a race then,” said Sterling, glancing across to Banks.

  His first officer simply raised her eyebrows and nodded. “It certainly looks that way,” she sighed.

  MAUL was leading the destroyers directly to the aperture. Its objective was to cut Sterling off before he could surge into the Fleet side of the Void. The Skirmishers, on the other hand, were coming straight at them, all from different angles. Sterling could already see torpedoes on his scanner readout, launched from the five smaller ships. Soon the Skirmishers would be taking long-range pot-shots with their cannons too, in the hope of striking a lucky hit. Distance wasn't really a factor in space. Accuracy was what mattered.

  The Sa’Nerra would know that a ship as advanced as the Invictus would be able to take out the torpedoes long before they were a threat. However, taking pot shots at them would force Sterling to expend power making small adjustments to their velocity and orientation. This was the only way to avoid the long-range attacks, though success was by no means certain, even with a pilot as skilled as Ensign Keller. The real purpose to all the attacks, however, was to slow the Invictus down. Each time they expended power to adjust their velocity, MAUL would gain ground. And if the strike force reached the aperture before they did, it would be game over. Sterling knew it, and so did MAUL.

  Sterling sucked in several deep breaths and steeled himself, ready to make an announcement to the crew. It was one of his least favorite duties, but he knew it was important. If the captain was confident then the crew would all draw from that strength. Tapping his neural interface, he then opened a wide link, allowing everyone on board to monitor.

  “All hands, this is the captain,” Sterling began. “The Sa’Nerran strike force is still in pursuit, but they don’t know who they’re dealing with. We’ve beaten them before and we’ll do it again.” Sterling could feel the energy of the crew through the neural link. It was like electricity pulsing down his spine. “Prepare to operate in low power mode. And put on your jackets. It’s going to get cold in here.” Sterling closed the link then nodded to Banks, who began to execute the order.

  “Reducing life support systems to mini
mum power,” said Banks, as non-essential consoles on the bridge started to power down. “All non-combat functions going offline in ten seconds. Reducing gravity fields by twenty percent.” She continued to work for a few seconds longer then turned to Sterling. “All available power routed to the main engines, Captain. We’re as ready as we’re ever going to be.”

  Sterling sucked in another deep lungful of air, which already tasted colder than it had a moment ago, then turned to Ensign Keller. The young officer was watching him, eagerly awaiting his order.

  “Are you a betting man, Ensign Keller?” said Sterling, feeling goosebumps tingle across his skin from the rapidly reducing temperature on the bridge.

  “I like a flutter every now and again, sir,” Keller replied. The helmsman smiled and glanced across to Lieutenant Shade. “If we’re talking about fights, then I know who to put my money on,” he added.

  Sterling smiled, though Shade, naturally, did not. “This time we’re trying to avoid a fight, Ensign,” he continued. “This is a race. The winner gets to go home. The loser gets blown into atoms. Who is your money on, Ensign?”

  “MAUL is a beast, Captain, but there’s nothing in the galaxy faster than the Invictus. Not with me at the helm.” The young officer’s confidence was bordering on bravado, but it was also exactly what Sterling needed to hear.

  “Then get us to that aperture, Ensign Keller,” said Sterling, standing tall, his hot breath fogging the air above his console. “Give her everything you’ve got. And then push her some more.”

  “Aye, sir,” Keller answered, the young man’s own breath hanging in the air long after he’d turned back to his helm controls. The ship began to accelerate hard.

  Sterling closed his eyes, listening to the pulse of the reactor, the thrum of the engines and the rattle of the deck plating beneath his feet. He knew just by the feel of the ship when the engines had reached their peak, and he knew the exact point at which the powerful drive system had exceeded its design specifications too. All engineers built in tolerances, he told himself. Like human beings, machines could be pushed beyond their limits, some more than others. However, the Invictus was no ordinary warship. It was an Omega Taskforce warship; the only one. Like its unique crew, Sterling had confidence that the vessel could supply what he demanded of it. And if it couldn’t, they were dead anyway.

  “Point defense cannons are engaging the torpedoes,” said Lieutenant Shade, the glow of her console mixing with the low-level red alert lights to cast dark shadows across her face. “But the computer is having difficulty tracking all of the plasma blasts.”

  Sterling nodded to Shade, acknowledging her update, then addressed Keller again.

  “Do what you can to avoid the incoming fire, Ensign,” said Sterling. His fingers were already becoming numb from the cold. He considered fetching a jacket, but he felt rooted to the spot, as if his boots had already frozen to the metal deck plates. He glanced across to Banks, Shade and Keller, seeing puffs of vapor come from their mouths, and recognized the look on each of their faces. None of his bridge crew would leave their posts, not until they surged or MAUL blasted them out of the cosmos.

  Suddenly an alert rang out on Banks' console, but Sterling didn’t need his first officer to explain the cause; the unique alert tone told him that there was a hull breach.

  “Hull breach, deck one, cargo hold!” cried Banks, having to raise her voice to be heard over the near-calamitous roar of the ship’s engines. “Emergency seals in place. Integrity stabilizing.”

  “How long until we reach the aperture, Ensign?” Sterling called over to his helmsman. He could have spoken to him through a neural link, but everyone was amped up and also near frozen. If there was a chance to exercise any muscle, even the ones in his jaw, he would take it.

  “We’re approaching the deceleration point now, sir,” replied Keller. Then he glanced back at Sterling, mist billowing from his mouth like a steam train. “Just how fast do you want me to surge, Captain?”

  “Just how fast can do you do it, Ensign?” replied Sterling, throwing the question right back at the pilot.

  “We’ve taken some damage, sir,” Keller replied, making some rapid calculations on his helm console. “We know the ship can handle double the regulation surge velocity. I can maybe push it to one hundred and ten percent.”

  “Enter the aperture at one hundred and fifty percent of the regulation surge velocity, Ensign,” said Sterling. His announcement caused the young officer’s breath to quicken even further, but the young man didn’t argue. Sterling had given his order and Keller would carry it out.

  “Aye, sir,” replied Keller. “Preparing deceleration for surge at one-fifty standard velocity.”

  Sterling then turned to Banks. “MAUL will briefly gain on us while we’re decelerating. That’s when it will try to hit us hardest,” he said, thinking ahead to the next step. “Once we have the power back from the engines, dump all you can into the regenerative armor and RCS thrusters.”

  “Aye, Captain,” replied Banks, briskly.

  Sterling then turned to Shade. “The point defense guns won’t do anything against their plasma cannons, but do whatever you can to keep those ships busy. I don’t care if you have to take your boot off and throw it at them. Torpedoes, cannons, turrets, I don’t care. Give them everything until there’s nothing left to give.”

  “Aye, sir,” replied Shade, her face still partially hidden in shadow so that she looked even more menacing than usual.

  “Did our message get through the aperture relay?” Sterling said, turning back to Banks.

  “The strike force is throwing out so much interference it’s hard to know,” said Banks, shrugging. “But we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Sterling nodded then turned back to face the viewscreen. Despite the temperature on the bridge having dropped below forty-five degrees, he no longer felt cold.

  “Prepare for hard deceleration in ten,” called out Ensign Keller.

  Sterling tapped his neural interface and connected to the entire crew. “All hands, brace, brace!” he called out in his mind, then closed the link and grasped onto the sides of his console, digging his heels into the deck. The ship’s inertial negation systems, which allowed them to accelerate and decelerate without the forces liquefying their skeletal structures, were not fully effective when pushing the engines well over standard. At best, their deceleration maneuver would feel like trying to hang on to a spinning merry-go-round. At worst, Sterling would end up pancaked to the rear bulkhead, like some sort of macabre work of art. As it turned out, the reality was somewhere in the middle.

  “Ensign!” Sterling called out in his mind, feeling his feet lift off the deck. His numb fingers were already struggling to keep hold of his console.

  “Just a few more seconds!” Keller called back, the young officer’s voice so loud in Sterling’s mind that his brain hurt.

  Sterling could feel the strength in his fingers fading. Then, slowly and painfully, his left hand slipped off the console. He gritted his teeth and bit down hard, trying to hang on with his remaining hand, but it was no use. Speeding away from the console toward the rear wall of the bridge, Sterling suddenly jerked to a stop, suspended in mid-air. He felt something wrapped around his wrist, the grip so tight it was excruciating, and looked up to see Commander Banks holding on to him.

  “Five seconds!” Ensign Keller called out to Sterling in his mind.

  For each of those five seconds it felt like Sterling was having his hand surgically removed, but Banks held firm. Suddenly, the gravity system stabilized and he dropped to the deck, landing hard. Banks pulled him up and thrust him back onto the command platform. There were no words of concern. No, “Are you okay, sir?” There wasn’t time for concern. There was only time for action.

  “All weapons, firing!” Shade called out.

  “Regenerative armor at two hundred percent,” shouted Banks. “Incoming fire… Brace for impact!”

  Sterling gritted his teeth again and glowere
d out at MAUL through the viewscreen. Torpedoes, plasma cannons and every single point defense cannon on the Invictus had fired all at once. MAUL slid in behind one of its escort destroyers, which took the brunt of the assault and exploded in a fiery mass. To their sides, two Skirmishers had failed to take down the torpedoes Shade had fired, and both erupted in unison. Then the Invictus was hit. Sterling was thrown against his console, his head hitting the cold metal surface hard. The next thing he knew Banks was again hauling him to his feet. Blood coated her hands, though he didn’t know whether it was his or hers. The ship was rocked again and Sterling heard the dreaded alarm tone indicating they’d suffered new hull breaches. However, there was nothing more he could do. The Invictus would either take the beating and survive or it wouldn’t. Sterling spat blood onto the deck and stared out at the blinking beacons of the aperture.

  “Come on, damn it, surge!” he called out, spitting blood onto his chin as he growled the words. “Surge!”

  Then the ship fell through the aperture and time stood still. The sparks of electricity, crackles of flame and whine of alarms all vanished. All that remained was his own thoughts, and the knowledge that their battle was far from over yet.

  Chapter 29

  A surge too far

  The Invictus crashed through the aperture and exploded back into the universe in an instant. The calming absence of normal reality that existed in the space between apertures was gone and now all Sterling felt was pain. For several seconds he had no idea where he was, then his eyes adjusted to the light and he found himself staring up at the ceiling of the bridge. His head and back throbbed and his ears were ringing. It felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

  “Report,” Sterling croaked, but all he could hear was ringing in his ears. He tried to call out again, but despite feeling the vibration of his voice resonate through his chest, he was still deaf to his own cries. Fighting the intense pain in his body, Sterling pushed himself up to a crouch and was immediately hit with a wave of nausea. It threatened to overwhelm him and he had to clamp his jaw shut for fear of throwing up. To his left he could see Commander Banks flat out on the deck, her arms and legs slowly moving, though without any coordination or purpose. Lieutenant Shade was slumped over her console, though she too was showing signs of life. Sterling waited for the nausea to ease then slowly rose to his feet and staggered back to his captain’s console, using it as a crutch. What he saw on the viewscreen quickly caused his nausea to return with a vengeance. The Invictus was spiraling out of control, causing the stars to whirl in a chaotic kaleidoscope of light and darkness.