Omega Force: Legends Never Die (OF10)

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Omega Force: Legends Never Die (OF10) Page 21

by Joshua Dalzelle


  "I think we're clear, Captain," Kage said. "I've heard three different commercial ships deeper in the system talking about the ConFed battlegroup meshing out."

  "We'd better get the hell out of here then." Jason slid his seat forward and locked it into position. "It won't be long before the damage control and containment teams are out here."

  The suspended particulate in the air was still so heavy that Jason had to bring up the nav-hazard shields on the way out of the atmosphere. Kage busied himself with recording the atrocity with every sensor, from every angle. The higher they climbed, the worse it looked. Once they broke into black sky Jason flipped the display off and concentrated on flying to their mesh-out point. The lump of ice in his stomach had turned and was now burning white hot… someone would pay for this.

  Chapter 25

  "The Thalia Operation was messy, but successful."

  "I have reviewed the sensor data from the Solas personally," the Machine said. "I am inclined to agree with you that our objectives have been met, though I'm disappointed that we have no physical proof. Even in the absence of that proof, however, it seems the Solas was able to eliminate two troublesome elements. With Venda Seh and Omega Force both dealt with, I am able to fully concentrate on the task at hand. We are on the verge of total success, Minister."

  Scleesz said nothing. He had watched the sensor recordings too and his feelings about what he'd witnessed were vastly different than those of his boss.

  "You have doubts?"

  "No!" Scleesz said too quickly before recovering. "No, of course not."

  "That's good," the voice purred. Audio was the only form of direct communication Scleesz had ever had with his new master. He was extremely curious about what species he could be other than "not from this quadrant," as he'd been told. Even the name gave no clues. The being that had become the de facto monarch of the ConFed had recently begun referring to himself as "the Machine," an obvious pseudonym.

  "Have courage, Minister. You're far too important to lose faith now. With the Eshquarian Campaign concluded, there will be an upswell of protests and calls for talks… your job is to undermine those efforts. Understood?"

  "I do," Scleesz said. "My staff is already out in front of it."

  "I knew I picked the right person when I came to you," the Machine said. "You may leave."

  "I've just realized you've never given me a title by which to address you," Scleesz said after floundering a bit, unsure what to say.

  "But I have. I am the Machine."

  "I would expect something more grandiose for a being that is poised to wrest control of the quadrants’ only superpower from its current government," Scleesz said.

  "Titles and status are the conceit of all dictators, and often their downfall. Why should I care what I am called, or if I am even known, when the results are the same: I will be in control. I will be the nameless, faceless power behind the Council and the people ruled will be none the wiser for it. If you give them something to focus their anger and frustration on, they will organize and revolt. Lie to them and tell them that everything is just like it's always been and they'll never suspect the truth," the Machine said.

  "But why Machine? It sounds so… industrial."

  "Because… the ConFed is a machine, and I am the Confed. We're all but cogs in wheels that drive something greater than we ourselves could ever hope to be alone. Viewing things in this way provides clarity of purpose your previous forms of government have lacked.

  "When we all do our part, the machine runs smoothly. To design. When one of those parts begins to wear or fails completely, the whole begins to fail to one degree or another. And what do you do with faulty parts in a machine, Minister?"

  "You replace them after—"

  "You rip them from the whole and discard them without a moment's hesitation or undue emotional attachment. Then you replace that part with something that can do the job equally well or better. It is in that way that the machine runs in perpetuity." The Machine fell silent as Scleesz digested what he'd just heard.

  "Everything fails. Everything has a lifespan. Everything," Scleesz insisted.

  "Only when those things are designed to fail," the Machine said calmly. "You, for example, have a finite life. Barring anything unforeseen, you could be expected to operate from sixty-five to one hundred years. This is not the way of all things. Some things are meant to last forever."

  "I see," Scleesz said, unsure if he was being educated or threatened.

  He left as quickly as his dignity would allow, what little of it he had left. He also wanted to be well clear of his boss before other uncomfortable questions came up. The Machine had been obsessed with finding this MIA Fleet captain who had commanded a battleship that wasn't even in service anymore. The amount of resources that were thrown at finding him was alarming… what did this captain know? Scleesz didn't dare reach out to his contacts in the intelligence community to try and find out. The Machine knew everything, seemed to be everywhere. If he began asking the wrong questions, he had no doubt his own untimely though deserving end would come sooner than later.

  "This is unbelievable," Alocur breathed after Venda Seh finished his prepared briefing to the room.

  "Believe it," Jason said. "I've had first-hand interactions with this Machine… it's ruthless."

  The Phoenix had rendezvoused with one of Mok's heavy cruisers after leaving Thalia Prime so that Venda could tell his story to all the major players. During most of the slip-space flight Jason had been unconscious as Doc worked tirelessly to remove the needles from his body and allow him to heal from the considerable damage they’d done. When they arrived to the set coordinates they were hustled into the larger ship's hangar bay and then it meshed-out of the system almost immediately.

  He looked around the table at the unlikely collection of beings, all brought together out of such extraordinary circumstances. Mok had been quiet during most of the briefing, while Alocur had been quite agitated at the news a sentient program was behind the ConFed's new direction. The person there that surprised him most, and whom he almost didn't recognize, was ConFed Councilman Scleesz. He'd had to be reminded by Crusher that he was the one who had arrived on the scene when they'd stopped Crisstof's First Son, who had been using Daddy's money to fund his own little revolution.

  "So… what are we to do with this information?" Mok asked.

  "This won't stop with one empire toppled and one city burned to the ground," Scleesz warned. "This … Machine … has plans to bring the entire quadrant to heel, and I think if it happens by force, all the better for him. There's a genuine sadistic streak behind his actions and I fear the suffering is only beginning."

  "That doesn't answer my question," Mok said. "What are we, the individuals in this room, supposed to do about this? The Eshquarian Empire lasted less than three days against the ConFed. You can't seriously be considering we take it on?"

  "Not directly," Alocur said. "But we are not normal soldiers, nor are we without means."

  "You're talking about an underground," Jason said. "An insurrection."

  "Precisely," Alocur said. "Asymmetrical warfare, as you so cleverly put it during one of our conversations, Captain Burke."

  "I didn't make that term up." Jason waved off the compliment. "You all know better than I do what this entails. Is this really the path we want to go down?"

  "It is no longer a matter of 'want,' young Captain," Scleesz said somberly. "And what of you? What are your thoughts?"

  Jason took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. "I'm largely responsible for this thing being here," he said finally. "My choice has been made for me: I'll do what I can to stop it whether it's with you or some other resistance outfit. I haven't talked to my crew yet, so it may be just me and the Phoenix."

  "Not a pair I'd bet against on any day," Alocur said. "I, too, am in. This has been my fight since before I knew what I was even fighting. Finding out what the enemy is has been both surprising and terrifying, but at least I
now have a target."

  "I will offer what support I can," Scleesz said. "Unfortunately, my closeness to the Machine makes me of limited use. I won't be able to risk meeting with you after this, but I will work to pass on information through intermediaries. We must be careful with what intel I provide, however, and resist the urge to act on every minor scrap. If the Machine suspects you have an inside source of information, it will not take him long to discover who it is, and I will be of little use with my head removed."

  "The Eshquarian Empire was my home," Mok said. "I had hoped to one day return there when I was old and no longer of any concern to the new generation in power. I believe my organization can be of great use, but we will need to be careful as the Councilman said… if I am suspected and the ConFed moves against the syndicate in force, it will be a short, pointless fight."

  "Are we in agreement?" Scleesz asked.

  "I believe we are," Mok said. "We fight."

  Jason stood when the rest of them did, his heart racing. The coming days would be dark and dangerous, but the feeling of having a purpose so great was intoxicating. He was careful not to speak for the rest of the crew, but he was fairly certain what their choice would be given the alternative.

  "I don't think we have a choice," Crusher said when Jason presented his case later that evening. They were all sitting on the back ramp of the Phoenix, still inside the hangar bay of Mok's cruiser. "Galvetor is a tiny, independent system. They're at great risk if the ConFed decides it might like to have some Galvetic conscripts in the ranks."

  "Ver is a single planet, but at least it's a member world," Kage said. "Not much of note other than a population that has bred itself into a dangerous situation if food imports stop, but I don't like the idea of them being subject to the whims of a psychotic bit of software."

  "What about you, Captain?" Doc asked. "Earth is still aligned with the Cridal Cooperative, and we've heard no noises from within the ConFed that they wish to change their arrangement with them."

  "Yet," Jason corrected. "It's coming. The Machine is smart. You can't do too much, too soon. He'll let his propaganda ministers go to work to both smooth over the fears after the Eshquarian invasion and to set up the public for the next conquest. Thankfully, that gives us time to try and undermine it.

  "I hope everyone realizes we'll need to cut ties with the civilian world for a while. We'll head back to S'Tora and settle our affairs, but if we're to be an operational asset of this resistance movement, having a permanent base and houses might be problematic. I think it would be better if we rolled our assets into some sort of legal protection that took our names off of it and leave home for the time being if for no other reason than to protect the locals."

  "Agreed," Twingo said. "Looks like it's back to living aboard the ship."

  That statement was met with a chorus of groans and profanity. The insults had really begun to fly when Alocur approached them from the opposite side of the hangar.

  "You'd asked to see me, Captain?"

  "Walk with me," Jason said, leaving his crew to their amusements. "I just wanted to touch base with you before we pulled chocks and ask what you were really doing tracking my guys and raiding secret Kheprian military labs."

  "It was as I said… at first," Alocur admitted. "I would present evidence that someone within the Ministry had illegally restarted the battlesynth program and it would mean prestige and advancement. The more I dug, the more alarmed I became. Once I realized that there was something new working behind the scenes and that the Ministry may have been compromised, the mission switched to deny the enemy.

  "I feel I was proven right. Could you imagine the Machine with a whole army of next generation battlesynths?"

  Jason shuddered before answering. "You don't think it might have been pushing Khepri to restart the program because it wants to put itself into a corporeal body, do you?" he asked.

  "That had not occurred to us." Alocur looked greatly troubled by the prospect. "I will enquire whether that's even a remote possibility. If it is, the danger won't be over because we managed to shut down a single research facility."

  "Agreed," Jason said. "I'll travel to Terranovus as agreed and speak with the remaining members of Lot 700. As soon as I have an answer from them, I'll get in contact."

  "Thank you, Captain." Alocur placed a hand on Jason's shoulder in the traditional pru manner of saying goodbye. "For everything you've done."

  That wouldn't work, if you're actually serious about that last concern.

  "What wouldn’t?" Jason asked aloud.

  The Machine's program is incompatible with the Kheprian processing matrix technology they use in synths. Knowing it the way I do, I can also tell you that it's far more comfortable being able to flit between systems than being tied down to a single body that could be destroyed.

  "Good to know," Jason said and ambled back towards the Phoenix.

  Chapter 26

  "How are you feeling?"

  "My speech subroutines are normalizing," Lucky said. "It is becoming easier to speak without having to think of each word individually."

  "So you're really back?" Jason asked. "Not to sound …well … you know what I mean."

  "I am your friend, Lucky," the battlesynth insisted. "I have all of my memories including the last thing I remembered of you being dragged away and up an exhaust vent. I still suffer from moments of confusion, but they are becoming less frequent. I fear the experience of dying and my subsequent rebirth will have changed me once I have fully reintegrated, but at my core I am still Combat Unit 777."

  "It seems like your new body has some new tricks the other one didn't," Jason said. "The smaller, sleeker design seems to fit you better."

  "I will admit that I am enjoying not looming over people or inducing fear by my mere presence," Lucky said. "I can sense many other abilities hidden within it but so far am unable to consciously control them. My flight modes were found out of necessity. Maybe it will be the same with the others."

  "I'm sorry for taking so long to come around. When we lost you the first time, Crusher and I didn't take it too well—"

  "I have heard."

  "—and the thought of getting my hopes up just to have you taken away again was more than I felt I could handle."

  "There is no need to apologize. When I first regained consciousness, the sheer chaos of strange inputs, a different body, and no sense of how much time had passed very nearly drove me insane. Once I began to regain control of these things, I could recognize your voice and focus on it when you were near. The sound of it coaxed out memories of my old life and once that happened, it opened a floodgate that allowed my higher functions to reassert themselves. It took some time to sort it out, but I feel the worst is behind me."

  "I'm just happy to be able to sit here and talk to you again, buddy." Jason's voice was thick with emotion. "We'll work on it together."

  Since Lucky had helped them on Thalia it had been a steady progression with each day getting a little better than the one before it. Alocur's people and Cas had both warned him that the battlesynth wouldn't be exactly like his old friend had been if for no other reason than the emotional trauma he'd been through, but Jason didn't care. The Lucky that had saved his life on Khepri by sacrificing his own hadn't been the same person that had emerged from the stasis pod all those years ago when they first met. All that mattered was that the family was whole again and that they would all be there to help their friend when he needed them to.

  Jason left Lucky in the galley, aware that he'd been a little selfish with the time he'd been spending with him, and walked back up to the bridge to relieve Kage. The little voice in his head had fallen silent again, but only after imparting some unpleasant news to him. The unpacking and repacking of the Legacy from his neural implant had caused some issues with both the implant and the archive. Cas had told him he would need to get the thing out of his head or the side-effects could become serious.

  Now he had quite the dilemma.

  Right
now the Legacy was safely hidden in his head. If he transferred it to an external medium, it would no longer be possible for it to be one hundred percent secure. With the revelation that the Machine was in ConFed space and in a position of power, did Jason dare remove the archive for fear the Machine might get it? The plans for the actual Machine, the star-chewing super-weapon, were in there… how could he risk exposing that to daylight?

  The alternative? The Legacy would keep "leaking," for lack of a better term, and wreak havoc with his neural implant to the point that it could become debilitating. Simply switching off the implant wasn't a practical option, and removing it altogether to replace it just brought up the same issue as before: Should he risk having the Legacy out where it could be captured, or destroy it altogether?

  "You look like someone who has a lot on their mind," Kage said as he grabbed his stuff to leave the bridge.

  "Just processing everything that happened," Jason said. "Glad to have Lucky back, but still not sure how to put what happened on Thalia Prime into context."

  "You'll figure it out," Kage said over his shoulder. "You always do."

  You have some time. The serious symptoms won't start for over a year by my estimate, and there's a chance the Legacy stabilizes and what we fear never comes to pass.

  "Would you take that risk?"

  I would give this matter the thought and consideration it deserves… and I'm not just saying that because it's my ass on the line too.

  He spent the rest of his watch restless. His fears of what to do with the unimaginable power he had stored in his head, the emotions that were coming out at the prospect of going back to war and doing so as a member of a small insurgency that was trying to topple a superpower… he had been an NCO in the Air Force, for Christ's sake, he wasn't equipped to make these sorts of decisions. If he chose or executed poorly, the ramifications were now on a scale he couldn't even wrap his head around.

 

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