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

by G J Ogden

  Sterling could feel the thud of the plasma turrets through the deck plating, beating like war drums. On the viewscreen, a dozen Wasps circled around the ship and the station, stinging the Invictus with their low-yield weapons. The combined effect of the swarm’s attacks whittled down the ship’s regenerative armor and in places it was already wearing thin. However, if Sterling’s plan worked it wouldn’t matter. He had no intention of slugging it out with a heavy cruiser. That was a battle he couldn’t win. But while the modified cruiser was powerful, it was also slow. More importantly, its hollowed-out structure had been converted for hauling ore and was weak. So long as they timed their maneuver correctly, one full attack should be all they needed to take it down.

  Sterling tapped his neural interface and connected to Lieutenant Razor. On Sterling’s instructions, she had diverted to engineering, rather than return to the bridge.

  “Lieutenant, are you ready to give us the kick we need?” Sterling asked, as a wasp took a direct hit from their plasma turrets and exploded on the viewscreen.

  “Aye, Captain, I can give you a boost, but it will blow out a dozen relays in the process,” Razor replied. “The blast will also fry the main rail guns, so we might want to avoid any more unwanted attention on the way home.”

  Sterling huffed a laugh. Trouble always seemed to have a way of finding them, no matter what they did.

  “Noted, Lieutenant,” Sterling replied. “Transfer the power and stand ready to fight some fires,” he added, tapping his interface to close the link.

  “We’re down to the last six wasps,” said Lieutenant Shade from the weapons console. “Armor integrity is failing in multiple sections and there are reports of minor hull breaches. Everything is contained.”

  “Are there any casualties?” asked Commander Banks.

  “If there aren’t yet, there soon will be,” said Sterling, quick to cut off any answer from Shade. “Let’s save counting the butcher’s bill until after we’ve shut up shop.”

  An alert rang out on the bridge and Sterling glanced down at his console.

  “Another hull breach…” Banks said, as always quick to assess the situation. “Emergency seals in place.”

  “Ensign Keller, are you ready to impress me with your piloting skills?” Sterling called out to his helmsman.

  “Aye, sir. Always,” Keller replied.

  The helmsman had been growing in confidence more strongly over the last few months, Sterling realized. Now, in addition to possessing the ability, he had the belief too. Sterling then glanced across to Lieutenant Shade. His grip on the side of his console had become so tight that his fingers were going numb.

  “Lieutenant, when that cruiser comes into view, fire everything we have at its secondary reactor core,” Sterling said. “We only get one shot at this.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Shade replied. She then locked her eyes onto the viewscreen and hovered her hand over the top of her console, ready to fire.

  Sterling checked their position. They’d been running rings around the heavy cruiser for the last few minutes, using the planetary fragment as a shield. However, their flight pattern had not been random. The sprawling arrangement of structures built onto the surface of the fragment were all interconnected. It was like a patchwork quilt of different designs that had been added to over many years. A ship the size of a heavy cruiser couldn’t navigate through them, but the Invictus could. That was, so long as you had a pilot that was up to the task.

  “Time to earn your paycheck, Ensign,” said Sterling, waiting for the ship to reach the perfect position. “Start your run… now!”

  Keller sprang into action, fingers flashing across his console. Sterling felt the kick of the thrusters and the punch of their main engines. Reduced from full power, the inertial negation systems struggled to counteract the sudden, ferocious acceleration. Keller skimmed the Invictus barely meters above the surface of the planetary fragment, weaving through jagged outcroppings toward the research station. Buildings and towers and long connecting tunnels flashed past with dizzying speed, and Sterling found himself needing to widen his stance in order to stay balanced. Lieutenant Razor had shunted so much power into the engines and weapons that secondary – yet still vital – systems were being starved. Sterling hoped that his engineer hadn’t been too liberal when stealing power from the inertial negation system, otherwise they’d all end up as pulpy splats on the rear of the bridge.

  Suddenly the wail of alarms gripped Sterling like a knife to the throat, but Keller continued to push the Invictus on. Making an adjustment a fraction of a second too late, Keller clipped a support scaffold with their port wing, slicing through the base like an axe. The jolt almost sent Sterling to the deck, but he just managed to hang on.

  “Sorry!” Keller called out, compensating and improvising to get back on course.

  “We’ll knock it out back at the COP, Ensign,” replied Sterling, focusing on his console. The damage control panel was flashing like a pinball table, but the only reading he cared about was the position marker for the heavy cruiser.

  “Ten seconds…” Commander Banks called out. “Prepare to fire.”

  The Invictus surged out from beneath the last of the structures then cut through a fissure in the planetary fragment. The modified alien heavy cruiser was now directly ahead. Sterling had intended to catch the behemoth unawares and with its belly exposed, but as the ship came into clearer view, he realized the Sa’Nerra had not been fooled. Instead of the Invictus pointing at the cruiser’s guts, they emerged from the planetary fragment almost nose-to-nose with the massive ship.

  “Ensign, take evasive maneuvers!” Sterling called out as the barrel of the cruiser’s enormous mining laser began to glow.

  Keller pushed the ship in a hard turn and this time Sterling was thrown off his platform. Smashing into the side of Banks’ console, he felt his ribs crack. He hugged the metal control station tightly to bear down against the pain. The mining laser then fired, sending an intense column of energy across the Invictus’ bow. The beam missed and slammed into the planetary fragment, slicing through the rock like it was cake.

  Keller banked hard to reacquire the cruiser and Sterling felt himself sliding off the console. The crushing impact to his ribs, combined with his other injuries, had caused his strength to fail him. Barely inches away from losing his grip, Banks grabbed the back of his tunic to steady him. Peering out through the screen, Sterling saw that Keller’s maneuver had positioned them above the cruiser. It wasn’t where he’d intended to be, but it would have to do.

  “Fire!” Sterling yelled, barely able to get the words out. “Fire, now!”

  Shade practically punched her console and the viewscreen momentarily went white as every weapon on the Invictus unleashed concentrated bursts of plasma at the cruiser. The plasma blasts ripped through the Sa’Nerran vessel’s hull like it had been perforated by an invisible spear. Sparks arced out from the hull and fires erupted inside and outside the vessel. Then the Invictus was rocked by the shockwave of the cruiser exploding like an atom bomb. More alarms rang out, but quickly silenced again as the fireball from the ship gave way to the blackness of space.

  “Woohoo!” yelled Ensign Keller, punching the air. “Great shot!”

  Sterling would have also congratulated his crew, though with his ribs broken and his breath gone, he was scarcely able to utter a whisper.

  “Enemy cruiser destroyed, Captain,” said Lieutenant Shade, though her confirmation of the kill was hardly needed. Sterling staggered back to his own console unaided. Banks knew better than to offer him any more help, and he would have refused it even if she had.

  “That’s an understatement,” said Banks, peering down at her scanner. “I think we could have destroyed a small moon with that blast.”

  “Plasma rail guns offline, Captain,” Shade continued, showing no emotion. “Regenerative armor at twenty-six percent, and climbing. Half of our plasma turrets are also destroyed. Point defenses are still active.”


  Sterling nodded while cradling his aching ribs. “Casualty report,” he asked, directing the order to Banks.

  “We lost three commandoes on the station and two crew in the attack, Captain,” replied Commander Banks. “I’d estimate Sa’Nerran casualties at one hundred and forty-six.”

  “Not a bad butcher’s bill,” said Sterling, forcing himself to stand tall, despite the effort causing him intense pain.

  “We’ve had worse, that’s for sure,” replied Banks, with a fatalistic air.

  “Set a course for the aperture and surge when ready,” Sterling called out to his ensign.

  “Aye, sir, but shouldn’t you get to the med bay?” Keller answered, adjusting course with one hand while glancing at Sterling over his shoulder.

  “I’ll go to med bay when I’m sure we’re in the clear, Ensign,” Sterling hit back. His response was crabbier than he’d intended on account of the pain. “The same goes for you two,” Sterling added, glancing at Banks then Shade. Both returned disgruntled expressions, like toddlers who had just been told to go to bed. Sterling then met Keller’s eyes again. “When we’re in the med bay, you’ll have the bridge, Ensign,” Sterling added, causing the flicker of a smile to appear on Keller’s lips. “You’ve shown that you can handle it.”

  “Aye, sir,” replied Keller. “Thank you, sir.”

  The helmsman then spun his chair back to his controls and continued piloting the battle-scarred Marauder toward to the aperture. Sterling felt a familiar neural link forming in his mind.

  “Are you going soft on me?” said Banks, through the neural link to Sterling. “That almost sounded like encouragement.”

  Sterling glanced across to Banks, who was grinning at him. “Truth is, if I don’t get off this damn platform in the next few minutes, you’re going to have to carry me off the bridge,” he said over the link.

  Banks smile fell away. She would have been able to feel the mental stress of his pain through their neural link.

  “Well, don’t die on me just yet, Lucas,” replied Banks. The statement sounded distinctly like an order.

  “I’ll do my best, Mercedes,” Sterling replied, making a concerted effort to smile, though it ended up as more of a grimace. Then he became serious again. “Hey, I’m glad I didn’t have to shoot you today,” he said. “It was close though. Too close.”

  Banks returned a weak smile of her own. “Me too,” she said. Then her smile broadened. “After all, who else would wake your sorry ass up in the morning if I were dead?”

  Sterling laughed, but then regretted it as pain spasmed throughout his body.

  “Go to the med bay, already, before you die at your post, like some ancient mariner,” Banks said in a scolding tone.

  However, Sterling merely shook his head. “No. My place is here, on the bridge,” he said, defiantly. “And this is where I’ll be until we’ve beaten those alien bastards back to their own world and crushed them for good.”

  Chapter 20

  Upper body strength

  Captain Lucas Sterling stood tall and aimed his plasma pistol at Commander Ariel Gunn. A Sa’Nerran warrior stood behind her, its long fingers wrapped around Gunn’s slender neck. The alien glared at Sterling with its yellow eyes, while the neural control weapon it had attached to Gunn’s implant blinked furiously. The warrior let out a hiss at Sterling, no doubt cursing him in the incomprehensible language of the Sa’Nerra. Then its alien vocalizations warped and twisted and suddenly Sterling realized he could understand them.

  “You don’t care about anyone…” the alien hissed at Sterling. “Go on, kill her again. Blow her head off her shoulders and prove that you are no better than the Sa’Nerra.”

  Sterling gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his pistol. “You force me to do this!” Sterling snarled at the alien. “You invaded our space. You murder my people without reason and without mercy. You’re why I have to do this!”

  The alien’s thin, slug-like lips twisted into a smile. It was an expression that no Sa’Nerran warrior had ever made before. The faces of the alien race were as plastic and as inexpressive as a mannequin. That this warrior dared to mock him with such a twisted sneer only made Sterling loath the creature more.

  “Do it then…” the Sa’Nerran hit back, tightening its stranglehold around Ariel Gunn’s neck. “Prove that you have the stomach to see this through. Prove you are worthy of the uniform and the silver stripe…”

  Sterling felt his pulse pounding in his neck and temples. He averted his gaze from the gloating face of the alien and met Gunn’s eyes. They were fearful, pleading.

  “Lucas, no!” Gunn cried. “Don’t you care about me at all? How can you kill me so easily? You could save me, Lucas! Why won’t you try?”

  Sterling tightened his grip on the pistol. Gunn’s pleading would not change what he had to do. What he had already done. Suddenly Gunn’s expression hardened and her voice became bitter and toxic.

  “But you won’t, will you?” Gunn spat. “The truth is that you’re the monster, Lucas, not the Sa’Nerra!”

  Sterling had heard enough. He squeezed the trigger and sent a blast of pure energy directly into Ariel’s Gunn’s face. Her head exploded and her lifeless body fell to the deck. Sterling turned back to the Sa’Nerran warrior. It’s plastic face and yellow eyes were still smiling at him.

  “You’ll never win,” the warrior hissed. Then the alien began to morph before Sterling’s eyes. Seconds later Captain Lana McQueen was standing before him, wearing her unique Sa’Nerran warrior’s armor. “The Sa’Nerra are stronger, smarter and there are more of us,” McQueen said. She was calm, logical and cold. “You can’t win, Lucas. You will be forced to kill all those you care about, and still you will end up with nothing, begging for your life.” Then McQueen’s features softened and she held out her hand to Sterling. “Join me, Lucas. Become an emissary with me. I will show you the way.”

  Sterling adjusted the aim of his pistol and pointed it at McQueen. The former Omega officer just smiled back at him.

  “I don’t care how many I have to kill to get to you,” Sterling hit back, angrier than he’d ever felt in his life. “You can test me. Mock me. Threaten me. But you’ll never beat me. And I’ll never join you.”

  Sterling squeezed the trigger and fired, but McQueen melted into nothingness as if she was merely a mirage. Then his eyes went dark and he felt himself floating out of his body. All that remained was the voice of the Sa’Nerran warrior hissing in his mind.

  “You will lose…”

  Sterling shot up in bed, sheets soaking wet with sweat. His heart was thumping so hard in his chest that it physically hurt. The lights in his quarters on the Invictus were already switched on, though the light level was low, like a sunrise. Sterling cursed then drew in a series of long, slow breaths while gathering his senses and regaining control of his body. At the same time the lights grew steadily brighter.

  “Are you okay, Captain?” came the voice of the computer. It spoke in its usual cheery tone, which was at odds with the concerned nature of the question.

  “I’m fine, computer,” replied Sterling, using the sheet to mop up the sweat on his face and neck before sliding his feet over the side of the bed.

  “Your neural activity was especially high during the moments before you awoke,” the computer continued. “My analysis suggests that you were suffering another one of your nightmares.”

  Sterling smiled. The quirky AI was persistent, though oddly well-intentioned. “If you’re about to suggest contacting Graves, or giving me a psychoanalysis yourself, then save it,” Sterling replied. “I’m fine.”

  “Perhaps a nice cup of tea then?” the computer added. “My studies of various Earth-based cultures suggest that the British, in particular, find that drinking tea helps to sooth frayed nerves.”

  This time Sterling laughed. “When the hell do you have time to study Earth-based cultures?” he asked.

  “I am a gen-fourteen AI, Captain. I was the first of my kind,” the
computer replied, sounding a little affronted. “In a ship this size, performing the functions required of me occupies less than ten per cent of my processing capacity,” the computer then added, far more cheerfully. “As such, I find myself with a great deal of time to think.”

  “I thought we talked about you and thinking,” Sterling said, walking over to the compact head in his quarters and running the cold tap. He splashed the icy water over his face and neck, which were still hot and sticky.

  “If you would prefer that I cease my activities then of course I will,” the computer replied, now choosing to mimic a despondent tone.

  Sterling raised an eyebrow and peered at himself in the mirror. He didn’t know whether the computer was intentionally trying to manipulate him, or was just playing around with different vocal inflections.

  “So long as you do what I need of you, I don’t care what you do with the other ninety percent of your time,” Sterling replied. He then grabbed a towel and patted his face dry. “Though I suggest you spend some of it thinking about how we can find James Colicos,” he added, tossing the towel in the sink, “and how we can defeat the alien assholes that threaten humanity.”

  “Thank you, Captain, I will give it some thought,” replied the computer. “By the way, Commander Mercedes Banks is approaching your door. You forgot to activate your neural link after you woke up, and she is no doubt concerned.”

  Sterling straightened up and frowned. “Why would she be concerned?” he said. Then he thought better of asking the AI such a question and quickly withdrew it. “On second thoughts, don’t answer that and just open the door.”

  “As you wish, Captain,” replied the computer. The door then swooshed open to reveal Commander Banks outside. Her hand was reaching for the door buzzer.

  “Well, that was spooky as hell,” Banks said, gingerly removing her hand from the buzzer, which she hadn’t managed to press before the door had opened. “I know we have a neural connection, but I didn’t know you were psychic too.”