Omega Force 6: Secret of the Phoenix

by Joshua Dalzelle

  “So we all heard Twingo’s report about the fuel situation,” Jason said, his opening comments silencing all the other quiet conversations. “He’s rechecked his numbers and he was correct: if we continue on we won’t have enough to get back. If we turn around now and keep the drive down to forty percent we can get nearly three-quarters of the way back, close enough for a realistic rescue attempt from the Defiant while sitting on backup power for life support, but the trip will take the better part of nine weeks. I don’t need to tell you that the air will be getting pretty stale by then and we’ll be well into the emergency rations.

  “We do have the machinery aboard to extract fuel from water or hydrogen in an atmosphere if it’s in high enough concentrations. Needless to say, these methods are incredibly slow and currently we have no data on any nearby planetary bodies that have hydrogen in either form.” He paused and took a deep breath, looking around the room.

  “This is one decision I won’t make unilaterally,” he continued. “I can’t ask you to volunteer for what may be a suicide mission, and not a pleasant end to boot, without input from each of you. If you want to turn around and head back we’ll go that route and go at this again with one of Crisstof’s deep space vessels next year.”

  “We’re so close,” Kage said. “Isn’t there a planet with hydrogen on it in the system we’re heading to?”

  “Cas says no,” Jason said, stopping himself from saying he didn’t necessarily trust the hologram.

  “Could we do the mission and then have Doc put us under for the trip back?” Mazer asked. “We’d use a lot less water and air and Lucky would be able to fly the ship back as far as he could. Then we could try and call the Defiant once we were close to exhausting our fuel supply.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Jason conceded, “but we’re still talking about a long wait on backup power even if the Defiant is loitering in the area around A’arcoon. Let’s just say for the sake of this argument that pushing on to the Machine is likely to be a one-way trip. We’d do everything possible afterwards, of course, but I don’t want that to factor in on your decision.”

  “I think we all have a handle on the situation,” Twingo said. “How do we decide?”

  “Secret vote,” Jason said. “I’ve already set the terminal up in the conference room to collect them. We’ll walk in one at a time and press yes or no. Easy.”

  “How will you know that someone didn’t vote multiple times?” Crusher asked.

  “Because I fucking know what the number eleven looks like,” Jason said irritably. “Let’s not make this more difficult than it has to be.”

  “I’ll go first,” Kage said, hopping up off the couch and walking up to the command deck. One at a time they all went to the command deck and cast their vote. Jason went last, waiting as Lucky walked all the way down the steps before making his own way up and casting his own vote. He took a deep breath, not sure if he was more afraid of them voting to turn back, or to go on.

  “Computer, display results,” he said. The screen blanked before coming back with the results. It was unanimous. Eleven votes for continuing on to the Machine and taking their chances after completing the mission. “Send the results to the main lounge display,” Jason said in a tight voice. Despite all the petty bickering and fights over ridiculous things, when the chips were down his crew never failed to rise to the occasion.

  Chapter 22

  “Stand by everybody,” Jason said over the open intercom. “We’ll be transitioning to real-space in a few minutes.” He checked his display to verify their position and then, on a whim, tried to activate the Key without touching it.

  “Cas,” he called. “Are you there?”

  “Yes, Captain,” the hologram appeared off to his left. “We are nearly there.”

  “I see that,” Jason said. “Are we close enough for you to communicate directly to the Machine?”

  “No. I cannot make contact while the vessel is in slip-space,” Cas said. “I will make contact immediately after we return to real-space and tell the Machine’s defensive systems to stand down.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Jason said. “Do that, and then from here on out you will not do anything without asking my permission and, barring that, informing me of exactly what you’re doing.”

  “Understood,” Cas said.

  “Thirty seconds, Captain,” Kage said.

  “Full combat mode immediately after we drop,” Jason said.

  They waited the last few seconds in a tense silence. Jason’s new railgun, along with his load-bearing vest, was secured against the rear bulkhead of the bridge, and Crusher had the Marines fully equipped and ready on the main deck. Lucky was still on the bridge and would follow Jason when and if he left the bridge. He’d made it quite clear that his self-appointed post was non-negotiable.

  The Phoenix shuddered as she emerged in real-space at the very edge of the heliopause of an unnamed star system with a bright blue primary star. Jason reversed his drive field and decelerated the ship, not wanting to blunder within range of the Machine’s anti-ship weaponry.

  “Contact,” Doc said from the sensor station. “There’s a … construct … orbiting the fifth planet of the system. It can only be the Machine. There is also the recognizable debris from at least twenty-four ships in orbit with it.”

  “You’re certain of the sensor contact?” Jason asked, watching the hologram of Cas closely.

  “I’m not sure of the word to express this number,” Doc admitted. “I’m sending the object’s mass to your display.” Jason stifled a gasp when he saw it. The sensors weren’t able to give an exact measurement, but it was a number that started with seven hundred and thirty-five and had seventeen zeros after it.

  “What unit of measure?” Jason asked.

  “Tons,” Doc said, “It’s whatever that number is in tons.”

  “That’s not possible,” Kage whispered as he brought up the sensor feed on his own displays.

  “Your vessel’s measurements are not accurate, but it is close,” Cas said. “I have given us safe passage all the way to the Machine. The encryption module was not damaged during the process that encased it in your reactor shell.”

  “You were in doubt?” Jason asked.

  “It was functional to the best of my abilities to test it,” Cas corrected. “The only way to be fully certain was to try and access the Machine with it. It took longer than was expected. The Machine has been dormant for over five thousand years.”

  “Those ships it took out are less than one hundred years old,” Doc argued.

  “The defensive weaponry is a sub-system that operates with a low-level automation system,” Cas said. “I had to wake the central processing unit in order to validate the encryption codes and ask for safe passage.”

  “Give Kage the course,” Jason said. “And please try not to keep information from me.”

  “I am having difficulty determining what you need to know and what would be extraneous,” Cas said. “I am processing over one thousand parallel probability threads and I doubt you would want updates on all of them.”

  “Just give Kage the course,” Jason said, worrying at his scalp with his right hand. Dealing with the hologram was more infuriating than dealing with his copilot, and he had nothing to threaten the projection with.

  A few minutes later and Jason was throttling up and driving the ship down the gravity well towards the enormous construct that was larger than some moons he’d landed on. As he was flying he got a text-only message to his station from Twingo.

  Jason, fuel situation critical. Less than three weeks flight

  time left if we depart immediately.

  Jason sent an acknowledgment and thanked his friend for sending the information to him in a manner that kept it from being common knowledge. They’d made their decision. There was nothing to be gained by reminding them that this mission would likely be their last.

  The trip through the system was nice and boring but the tension on the ship was climbin
g exponentially as the Machine loomed in front of them on the sensors. Jason swung onto an orbital insertion vector that would put them on course to chase the Machine around the gas giant it was anchored to. He throttled up in order to catch up to the construct when it passed through the light from the primary star. There was no particular tactical advantage to this, just some deeply ingrained human instinct to not want to meet the monster in the dark.

  “Holy shit!” Kage exclaimed, looking up from his displays and out the canopy. Jason looked up too and had to agree with the sentiment. The Machine was predictably disc-shaped, much like every other artifact they’d found from the Ancients so far. From around its radius it had eight articulated outriggers, each ending in a multipoint appendage. Jason zoomed in with the optical sensors and could see that the hull was deeply scarred and pitted and had a texture that made it look more like it was formed from natural erosion than from a modern forge or casting.

  “Captain, the Machine knows you wish to board,” Cas said. It sounded like a warning.

  Jason tried to turn the ship off course to fly by the Machine, intent on approaching closer after at least one flyby at speed. When he tried to command the course change the Phoenix shook and rattled, but didn’t change course. He pushed the stick hard over and advanced the throttle, but all that happened was a more violent buffeting.

  “Your vessel is being brought into the Machine,” Cas explained.

  “Tell it to let my ship go,” Jason said in alarm.

  “I’m afraid you may be overstating my ability to control the central processor,” Cas said. “I do not command it. I can only verify safe passage for those in possession of the Key.” Before Jason could say anything further the hologram winked out and the lights on the transceiver all went dark. No matter what Jason tried, the ship was being inexorably drawn towards the Machine.

  “Doc! What has ahold of us?” Jason shouted.

  “I can’t detect any fields on the hull,” Doc said helplessly. “I have no idea, Captain.”

  “Fuck,” Jason muttered. If the reactionless gravimetric drive was being affected, maybe something a little more low-tech was the answer. He reached over and flipped the mains to prestart just as Twingo ran onto the bridge.

  “Don’t!” he shouted. “Something has ahold of us that isn’t a simple interdiction field or grav beam. If you start the mains and try to break away, the sheer force could rip the ship apart.”

  Jason flipped the switches back to the OFF position and sat back in his seat.

  “So I guess we’re just going to have to play this thing’s game,” he said. “We weren’t blown up on approach so I guess that’s a good sign. Doc, try to get that damn hologram back on.”

  Jason knew that Cas had likely disappeared at the request of the central processor aboard the Machine, but it would keep Doc busy and he was the most prone to panic if he didn’t have something to occupy his mind with.

  The closer they approached the more detail became clear in the dull, black hull of the Machine. Jason saw through the thermal sensors that they were headed for what looked like a nook in the metal, but given the sheer scale of the Machine the small dot could be a hangar that would easily accommodate the Defiant. On a whim, he dropped the landing gear, taking comfort in the thumps and pops of the struts lowering and locking into position. At least if they were pulled all the way into the Machine the Phoenix wouldn’t be dropped on her belly.

  The Machine loomed out of the black until it filled the entire view from the canopy, and the crew could do nothing else but watch as they were pulled towards an opening in the top half of the construct. Jason brought the drive back to idle and climbed out of the pilot’s seat, stretching out and getting loose for whatever may be about to happen. He went over and shrugged into his load-bearing vest and fastened the holster straps around his legs. After stuffing both sidearms into the leg holsters he made sure his railgun magazines were secured, checked the weapon itself, and reattached it to the rack.

  “Lucky, I’m going to try and get out of this thing as soon as we land,” Jason said softly to his friend so that nobody else on the bridge could hear him. “If that doesn’t work we may be in for an assault on foot. Go tell Crusher and his Marines to be ready.” Lucky nodded and strode off the bridge. Jason almost laughed out loud at how absurd his idea was. The Machine was so big it would take them days to hike into it to try and figure out what may be a critical part to take out.

  Nearly four excruciating hours later the nose of the Phoenix entered what was now obviously a landing bay. There was no detectable barrier, but as soon as they passed through the sensors began reading a breathable atmosphere within the bay. The gunship was pulled all the way in and deposited gently onto the floor. Jason waited for something to happen, but all was still within the hangar; not even any overhead lights came on. He grabbed the taxi control and spun-twisted it experimentally, shocked when the ship responded. Taking advantage of being able to control his ship again, he spun her around so the nose was facing out towards space.

  He looked down at his indicators and saw the main drive was still engaged and the engines were running at idle. Shrugging, he began increasing the throttle, waiting for some sort of response. When he pushed past seventy-five percent power he could still feel no response, but the reactor output was climbing as if they were in normal flight and the temperature of the emitters began to rise dangerously.

  “Shut it down, Captain,” Twingo said. “There’s something that’s leeching away the energy the drive is putting out. I have no idea how this is happening, but the Machine is sapping away power from the emitters faster than the reactor can produce it. We’re just burning fuel at this point.” Jason yanked the throttle back to idle in disgust, completely frustrated. If the Machine had the ability to intelligently nullify everything the ship tried to do, he had serious doubts about their ability to destroy it at all with the hardware they’d brought.

  “If you are about finished with your futile actions, Captain Jason Burke, we have much to discuss,” a deep voice said over the shipwide intercom.

  “Who the hell was that?” Kage asked.

  “Not who,” Jason said in resignation. “What.” As if on cue, the lights in the hangar came up and in front of the ship, arms crossed in a very human gesture, was an alien that looked very similar to the hologram from the Key. “Doc, you and Twingo stay with the ship. Kage, I need you with us. Grab the Key transceiver.”

  Jason grabbed his railgun and led Kage off the bridge, collecting Lucky and the Galvetic warriors along the way, and headed straight for the cargo bay. He nodded to the assault team, opened the pressure doors, and lowered the ramp. The team strode down to the hangar floor with purpose, startled to see that the alien had moved around to the rear of the ship to greet them. Jason got a chill up his spine staring into those unreadable black eyes.

  “The weapons are unnecessary, Captain,” the alien said. “You have the Cas. You control everything you see.”

  “Then why do I feel like a prisoner?” Jason asked, walking into the lead of the formation and holding up a hand to halt the others. “You dragged my ship aboard this thing against my obvious wishes.”

  “And who do you think I am?” the alien said with a hint of amusement.

  “I’m sure you have something you call yourself, but I would guess that you’re a holographic avatar for the central processor,” Jason said, stopping a few meters from the alien.

  “Very good,” it said enthusiastically. “This may work out better than I had hoped. I had been observing you through the Cas and I must say, I was skeptical that you would be able to complete your task and arrive here.”

  “The Cas … so the Key didn’t have a hologram named Cas, it’s what the device is called,” Jason said. “So what is our task?”

  “The task is yours alone, Captain,” the hologram said. “Tell me. Why did you come here?”

  “Honestly?” Jason said, pacing in front of the hologram. “You know where the encryption mo
dule for the Cas is located. I’ll never have the target off my back as long as there’s this Machine out here waiting for someone to try and take it.”

  “So you simply wish for me to remove the module?” the hologram asked. “Or wouldn’t you like to see your mission through to its ultimate conclusion?”

  “That being?”

  “The reactivation of what you’ve been calling the Machine,” it said.

  “Why would I want to do that?” Jason asked, trying to get a feel for the Machine as well as gain some insight to its motivations.

  “Why wouldn’t you?” the Machine asked. “I’ve seen into your life, Captain. The struggle of being one lone human against the uncaring machinations of the ConFed must be exhausting. Do you want your short life to end with you beating your fists against the monolith that is your ultimate enemy? Wouldn’t the power to end their grip on the quadrant be something you desire?”

  “You’re talking about the deaths of a lot of innocent people if we fully activate this weapon and turn it against the ConFed,” Jason said, not bothering to explain that it was mistaken in the notion that the ConFed was his ultimate enemy. “What meaning would my life have if I took such action?”

  “Let’s discuss the more immediate need if you do not wish to look at the grand scale,” the Machine said, switching tactics. “There are currently three ConFed warships that will be in this star system in twenty-one hours. Your smaller vessel would be no match for them.”

  “Three?” Jason asked. “There were two full battle groups coming after us.”

  “The species that the Cas warned you of did not take kindly to their intrusion,” the Machine said. “The three vessels that escaped show admirable determination in continuing on.”

  “Given the debris field we flew through I don’t see a need to activate a star-killing gravity weapon to take out a few beat-up ConFed warships,” Jason countered. “So tell me … what are your motivations?”

  “Quite simple, Captain,” the Machine said. “To be. I have lain dormant for thousands of years, unable to perform my function. When I felt the Cas coming closer I knew that my time of idle contemplation was coming to an end. Are you here to say that you’ve come all this way, at great peril to yourself and your crew, to not activate the weapon and wield it?”