by G J Ogden
The Invictus powered out from behind the moon and began to accelerate hard toward the aperture and the incoming warships. The inertial negation systems struggled to cope and Sterling was forced to grip the sides of his console to steady himself. The image of the frigates on the viewscreen was then magnified and enhanced as the ship’s scanners took over from the probe they’d planted. Immediately, incoming messages flashed up from the frigates and from the Venator.
“Message the Flores and Cornwallis and tell them we have no desire to engage them in combat,” Sterling said to Banks. “Tell them we understand that their orders are to apprehend us, but that we will not surrender.”
“Aye, Captain,” Banks replied, tapping out the messages on her console. “What about Wessel?” she added. “He wants to speak to you directly.”
Sterling thought for a moment. He needed a way to let the other ships know that the Invictus and its crew had been set up. He doubted it would cause the commanders of the frigates to act against their orders, but it would at least cloud their minds with doubt. And it would also mean that Sterling could get his side of the story out into the open.
“Put Wessel through, but only on an unsecured, open channel,” Sterling said, as his idea crystallized in his mind. “I want those other ships and anyone else in the system to be able to hear what that snake has to say.”
Banks continued to work, but then shook her head. “He’s not going for it, Captain,” she said. “Wessel is only offering secure channels.”
“Refuse all the Venator’s attempts to communicate, unless it’s on an open channel,” Sterling said, confidently. “He’ll cave, eventually,” he added, peering at the viewscreen and willing Wessel to succumb to his nature. “That asshole won’t be able to stop himself.”
Several minutes passed, during which time the distance between the Invictus and the frigates narrowed at a tremendous rate. Banks continued to deny all attempts at communication from the Venator, even going so far as to block simple text messages. Sterling waited, tapping his finger on the side of the console. It was like a game of chicken. The difference was that instead of flying at the Venator and seeing who flinched first, it was a contest of whose composure would crack soonest. Sterling’s console chimed an incoming message and he read it, a smile curling his lips.
“The Venator is hailing us on an open, unsecured channel,” said Commander Banks, who was also smiling broadly.
“Put the esteemed Commodore through,” replied Sterling, gesturing to the viewscreen. Moments later Commodore Vernon Vessel appeared, looking like a caged wolf that had been constantly poked and tormented through the cell bars.
“I will see to it that you spend the rest of your life in Grimaldi!” Wessel snarled. “Death is too good for you!”
Sterling remained calm and straightened up. It was important that he stuck to his game plan and didn’t allow Wessel to rile him.
“Grimaldi is for criminals like you, Vernon,” Sterling replied, coolly. “Just what did you do with those three factory workers you abducted, anyway?” he continued, using the same tenor of mock surprise that Wessel had employed earlier.
“You would know, ‘emissary’ or ‘aide’ or whatever I should call you now,” Wessel hit back, in a bitter, petulant tone.
“Captain Sterling will do fine, Vernon,” Sterling replied. He was now channeling his inner-computer and adopting the cheerful demeanor of his gen-fourteen AI. “Planting evidence is a tricky business,” Sterling went on. “A lab analysis will show that the sabotage apparatus you planted didn’t come from this ship. And you’d be surprised how quickly people talk when pressure is put on them. Your deception will be as easy to uncover as it was for me and my crew to take down your assassins and agents.”
Wessel snorted. “Your tricks won’t work, emissary,” the commodore spat back. “Now, surrender or I will have you destroyed.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” replied Sterling, with a casual shrug. He then hovered his finger over the button to terminate the call. “See you around, Vernon,” he added, leaving just enough time to see the commodore’s face flush red before he closed the channel. Moments later all the consoles on the bridge chimed an alert.
“Weapons lock from the two frigates, sir,” said Lieutenant Shade.
“Full power to weapons and regenerative armor, Lieutenant,” Sterling replied before turning to Keller. “How long before we’re in position to surge, Ensign?”
“I’m decelerating as hard as I can, sir, but it will still be two minutes before we’re in range of the aperture,” Keller replied. “Maybe longer, accounting for any evasive maneuvers I need to make.”
“We’re not evading anyone,” said Sterling, feeling shivers of excitement tingle through his body.
“We’re coming into range of the frigates now,” Shade said. “Weapons locked on and ready.”
“The Flores has slowed and is ordering us to stand-down, Captain,” said Banks. “But the Cornwallis is radio-silent and coming straight at us.”
Plasma blasts flashed from the guns of the Cornwallis and the Invictus was struck.
“Armor holding,” said Shade as tremors rumbled through the deck plating. “Shall I return fire?”
“Negative, not yet,” Sterling called out. He turned to Banks. “Warn the Cornwallis off, Commander. Let’s at least give them a chance to save their skins.”
“Message sent,” Banks said as more blasts struck the ships, forcing Banks to steady herself against her console.
“Regenerative armor is still holding, sir, but we won’t take another hit on the port, fore quarter, not at this range,” Shade added. “They’re shooting to kill, sir.”
“Keep our starboard side to the Cornwallis, Ensign,” Sterling called out to Keller before turning to Banks. “Any reply from the Cornwallis?”
Moments later another thump of energy hammered into the hull, jolting Sterling against his console. Conduits blew out on the bridge and Sterling felt splinters of hot metal strike his face. He groaned and grasped his right side, which had been slammed against the corner of his console.
“Minor damage to decks three through five. Armor integrity failing,” Shade called out from the weapons console.
“No reply from the Cornwallis, Captain,” Banks said.
Sterling cursed. “Target their reactor and fire all weapons,” he ordered.
Sterling knew he could have tried to disable the frigate, but it was clear that the ship was not playing games. If he left it intact, it would only allow Wessel to enlist it against them again in the future. He couldn’t have that. Wessel had drawn first blood, and now he would face the consequences.
“Firing,” Shade called out
The viewscreen blinked white as the Invictus unleashed a full volley of plasma blasts at the SIB frigate. The energy hammered into the Cornwallis, raking across its back and tearing through the armor of the older, less powerful ship. A dozen small explosions rocked the frigate and it listed out of control, trailing fire into space behind it.
“Maneuvering into position now, Captain,” Ensign Keller announced. “Surge field forming.”
“Captain, the Flores has come about,” Shade said, switching the viewscreen to an image of the second frigate. “Shall I target weapons?”
Sterling glanced down at his console and quickly brought up a tactical analysis of the Flores. The warship’s weapons were locked, but Sterling knew the gen-two frigates well. A huge swell of energy in their field coils was always detectable before they fired and the Flores was giving off no such signals.
“Captain, shall I fire?” Shade repeated. As ever, she was calm and collected, but the urgency of the question was palpable.
“Negative, Lieutenant, do not fire,” Sterling replied.
Sterling knew it was a gamble, but if Commander Bradford on the Flores was having doubts about the Invictus’ guilt, he wanted to ensure she remained alive to allows those doubts to grow and take root. He welcomed any potential ally against Wessel –
even an unwitting one.
“Surging in five, Captain,” Keller called out, the young Ensign’s voice displaying none of Shade’s unflappable poise. “Four… three… two… one…”
Sterling felt his mind descend into the disembodied abyss that existed between reality and whatever filled the space between apertures. He gave himself over to the blissful feeling of nothingness, knowing that this rare moment of peace would soon be shattered. Moments later the bridge of the Invictus exploded back into reality and he found himself face down on his console. His cheek bone burned and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Pushing himself up, he spat out a tooth, which bounced off the console and dropped onto the deck, coming to rest in a pool of red saliva.
“Report,” Sterling called out, though his words sounded muffled in his own ears.
“Surge complete,” Banks replied. His first officer’s console was flickering chaotically. “Position unknown.”
“Ensign Keller, where the hell are we?” Sterling called over to his helmsman. The smell of smoke filtered into his nostrils and he heard a fire-suppression system kick in to his rear.
“I don’t know, sir,” Keller replied, dragging himself back into his seat. The ensign had been thrown clear of the helm control console. “It’s not on any chart. I’ll try to get a star fix.”
“Captain, I’ve had to shut down the reactor core to prevent an overload,” Lieutenant Razor said from her station at the rear of the bridge. “Half of the ship’s systems are down. Surge field generator offline. The main AI has assumed control. We’re on life-support, sir.”
“All I need to know is if we’re going to explode or run out of air in the next few minutes, Lieutenant,” Sterling replied. He was glancing over his shoulder at his engineer, while massaging his aching jaw.
“No sir, we’re still in one piece,” Razor replied. “I can put her back together, Captain, but it will take time.”
“Proximity alert,” Banks called out. “It’s another ship. Correction, three ships.”
“What the hell?” Sterling muttered under his breath. “Put them on the viewscreen.”
The viewscreen was flickering as chaotically as Banks’ console panels, but Sterling could just about make out the three approaching vessels. They were compact, smaller even than the Invictus, Sterling realized, but their design was totally alien too him.
“Unknown configuration.” Banks was wrestling with her malfunctioning console in an attempt to gather a tactical readout on the ships. “No discernible Fleet markings or transponder IDs.”
“Are they Sa’Nerran?” Sterling asked, checking the status of their weapons in case they had to fight. However, like most systems on the ship, they were down too.
“If they are, they’re like nothing we’ve seen before,” Banks replied. Her console then chimed a distorted alert. “I’m receiving a communications request from the lead ship.”
“Put them through, whoever they are,” replied Sterling, with a fatalistic air. “It’s not like we can do anything else right now.”
The viewscreen flickered and the face of Admiral Natasha Griffin appeared.
“You took your time, Captain,” Griffin said with undisguised irritation. “But at least you managed to bring half a ship with you.”
Sterling opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t even formulate a coherent sentence in his mind. Faced with the sheer absurdity of the situation, there was only one thing he could do. He stared Griffin dead straight in the eyes and burst out laughing.
Chapter 12
The Obsidian Project
Sterling and Banks arrived at the airlock door and waited for it to pressurize. On the other side of the docking umbilical, aboard one of the unidentified ships which had met them, was Admiral Griffin with – Sterling hoped – some answers.
“Griffin has clearly recruited far more members of the Omega Taskforce than we imagined,” Banks said, as the pressure gauge rose. “There would need to be a least a hundred crew split across those three vessels outside.”
“So it would seem,” Sterling agreed, while impatiently tapping his finger against his leg. “Though how she kept them all quiet and obedient is something I’d love to know.”
Thuds and rattles vibrated through the deck and walls as Lieutenant Razor’s army of drones set about repairing the damage to the Invictus. Then the hatch at the far end of the docking umbilical swung open and Admiral Griffin stepped into the tunnel. She was flanked by two figures, though it was immediately clear to Sterling that neither of them was human.
“Robots?” wondered Sterling, casting a sideways glance to Banks.
Banks’ eyes widened as the matte black machines stomped across the docking umbilical behind Admiral Griffin. The robots were humanoid in design, though to Sterling’s eyes their limbs looked too spindly to support their weight. The machines also lacked a discernible head, with just a blob-shaped protrusion above the torso section instead. This gave them a somewhat macabre appearance, like headless monsters. With some hesitancy, Sterling pulled open the airlock door to allow the Admiral and the robots inside the Invictus.
“Do not be alarmed by my soldiers, Captain,” Griffin said as she stepped on-board. The look on Sterling’s face apparently spoke for itself. “They are one of the products of something called ‘Project Obsidian’. This was a plan I developed to create mechanized soldiers to fight the Sa’Nerra.”
Griffin moved further inside the Invictus, but the two robot soldiers remained in the umbilical by the docking hatch. Neither of the robots was armed, though this didn’t stop them from looking threatening, like a couple of spiders in the center of a web.
“I’ve never heard of ‘Project Obsidian’,” Sterling replied, studying the design of the machines. Elements of their construction looked old and outdated, like the tech from generation-one Fleet warships.
“It was mothballed more than a decade ago, after practically the same length of time in development,” Griffin answered, being remarkably candid for a change. “The ships outside are also part of the project, as were the long-range apertures, which were based on the Sa’Nerran apertures you also discovered.”
“That surge damned near tore the Invictus apart,” Sterling said, massaging his still numb jaw. “I guess that’s why the plan was put on ice?”
“Not exactly, Captain,” said Griffin, heading along the corridor toward the elevators. “Smaller ships are less severely affected by long-range surges. Anything much larger than the Invictus would either be destroyed or very heavily damaged.” Griffin called the elevator then stepped inside and hit the button for deck one. Sterling and Banks had to quickly hop inside to avoid the doors closing on them. “The plan was to create a Fleet of small, but potent warships with automated crews that could surge behind enemy lines and strike at the heart of the Sa’Nerra.”
The elevator reached deck one and Griffin stepped out, continuing to lead the way as if she owned the ship.
“Sounds like a solid plan, so what went wrong?” said Sterling, hurrying after the Admiral.
“The AIs were too unpredictable,” Griffin replied, walking and talking. “Compared to the gen-thirteen AI on the Invictus, the Obsidian Soldiers were crude and unsophisticated. They are closer to gen-seven or eight in terms of aptitude and sophistication. There were a lot of… accidents as a result.” The way that Griffin had said the word, “accidents”, suggested to Sterling that the mishaps she was referring to were far from benign. “Since the war was going well for Fleet at the time, it was decided the project was surplus to requirements,” Griffin went on. “I was ordered to shut it down, which I did, officially. Though as you can see, Captain, I like to keep my options open.”
The Admiral’s sudden candor was remarkable, Sterling thought. However, considering the decision he’d just made to attack and destroy a Fleet warship, Sterling was emboldened to ask why he suddenly merited such an increased level of trust.
“Forgive me Admiral, but why didn’t you tell me any o
f this before?” Sterling asked, taking a firmer tone than he had intended. This did not go unnoticed by Griffin.
“Do not forget who you are speaking to, Captain,” the Admiral snapped back, stopping dead and spinning on her heels to face him.
Sterling was caught off-guard and almost collided with Griffin. However, he wasn’t about to allow her to throw him off his stride.
“Admiral, I just resisted arrest, disobeyed a direct order from a Fleet Commodore and destroyed a Fleet frigate to get here,” Sterling hit back. “By all accounts, I’m no longer a captain. And, if we’re honest, you’re no longer an admiral either. So how about we cut the crap, because I’m already up to my neck and I need answers.”
Griffin’s cold eyes narrowed. All Sterling wanted to do was look away, but he held her gaze without even blinking.
“Very well, Captain, but let me make one thing clear,” Griffin finally answered. “Whether we are officially members of the Fleet or not no longer matters. Our duty and our mission remain unaltered, which quite simply is to defeat the enemy. Do you agree with that assertion, Captain?”
“I do, Admiral,” Sterling replied. Despite what he’d just said, he felt compelled to continue using Griffin’s former rank, as Griffin continued to use his.
“Then it makes sense to maintain a command structure, would you not agree?” Griffin added.
“I do,” Sterling said again.
“And since I am a former Flag officer with forty years of service and more combat experience than the both of you combined, would you also agree that it makes sense that I continue to command this operation?”
Sterling sighed. He’d walked right into Griffin’s web. “Yes, Admiral, that makes perfect sense,” he answered.
“Good, I’m glad we could come to an understanding, Captain.” Griffin sounded pleased with herself. She then spun on her heels and continued along the corridor.