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

by G J Ogden

  “I am a cold-hearted bastard,” said Sterling, again meeting Banks’ eyes. “If I have to, I’ll blow this ship and its crew to hell and not shed a tear about it. But the Imperium isn’t lost yet.”

  Sterling heard Lieutenant Shade call out “clear” then order her squad to advance. The injured commando had treated his wound and advanced with the rest of the squad. “Come on, before there’s no-one left to save,” Sterling said.

  Sterling and Banks ran up the bare metal stairwells that supplemented the lift systems that connected the five decks of the compact warship. He could hear bootsteps echoing along the corridors behind them then waited until he saw the shadows of the approaching Sa’Nerran warriors and opened fire. Three aliens fell without even getting a chance to see who shot them.

  “Lucas, are you on board?”

  It was the voice of Captain Lana McQueen, speaking through their neural link. “I’m here, what’s your status?” Sterling replied in his mind.

  “Can you get a squad to deck three, auxiliary systems control?” said McQueen. “If you can cycle the secondary power systems, all of the interior doors should unlock. Then whatever is left of my crew can mop up these alien bastards.” Sterling clicked his fingers loudly three times. Lieutenant Shade heard the signal and ordered her squad to hold position. “We’re approaching deck three now,” said Sterling through the neural link. “I’ll send a squad, and meet you on the bridge.”

  Lieutenant Shade arrived at Sterling’s side, looking at him expectantly. “Lieutenant, take your squad to the secondary power systems control room on this deck. If we cycle secondary power, all the doors will unlock, and we can get the Imperium’s crew back into the fight.”

  “Aye, Captain,” replied Shade, waving over her corporal. “I take it you’re heading to the bridge?” she added. Sterling nodded as the corporal arrived and crouched at Shade’s side. “Then I should come with you, sir. My commandos can handle the job here. My job is to protect you.”

  Sterling glanced to Banks, who returned an acquiescent little shrug. “Okay, Lieutenant, you’re with us,” he replied. Shade relayed her orders to the corporal, who then ran back to the rest of the commando squad. “We’ll continue to use the auxiliary stairwells,” Sterling continued. “But we should move fast. If the Sa’Nerra manage to secure the bridge then we may have no choice but to fall back and destroy the ship.”

  Lieutenant Shade moved out ahead, boots clattering up the bare metal staircase to deck two. The sound of plasma blasts and anguished screaming filtered along the corridors as they pushed on.

  “Our best chance to access deck one is through the crawlspace hatch that leads into the rest room behind the bridge,” said Banks, stalking ahead alongside Sterling. “We can then assault the bridge through the port egress.”

  Sterling turned up his nose. “The restroom?”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t think we’ll catch any Sa’Nerran warriors using the head,” replied Banks. Then she frowned. “Do those things even pee?”

  Sterling had no idea what the answer to Banks’ bizarre and pointless question was, and he didn’t care. However, he also didn’t get an opportunity to answer before the door leading into the ship’s infirmary slid open. A Sa’Nerran warrior was standing behind it. The alien’s egg-shaped, yellow eyes met Sterling’s, though if the warrior was as surprised to see him as Sterling was to see it, he couldn’t tell. Shade reacted first, grabbing the alien by its leathery throat and driving it back inside the infirmary. Sterling and Banks followed, spotting two more of the warriors inside, standing beside medical bays, which were occupied with members of the Imperium’s crew. Sterling could see Sa’Nerran neural control devices attached to their heads.

  Sterling opened fire, hitting one of the aliens before he was tackled from the side by another. Moments later, his plasma pistol was wrenched from his grasp and he soaked up a hard punch to the ribs. Sterling pushed on through the pain and drove his elbow into the alien’s solid gut. The warrior staggered back then drew a serrated, semi-circular blade from a stow on its armor. This was the traditional weapon of the belligerent alien species. It was a cruel implement, designed to inflict maximum pain and suffering on whomever it was used on. However, Sterling had faced warriors armed with this crude but lethal weapon before and come out on top. This would be no different, he vowed.

  Sterling watched the alien’s movements, waiting for it to attack first, as he knew it would. The serrated blade flashed through the air, but Sterling dodged back then caught the alien’s wrist as it tried to turn the weapon back toward him. He snapped a kick to the Sa’Nerran’s knee – a weak point in their otherwise tough, leathery frames – and the alien buckled, letting out a long, waspish hiss as it did so. Sterling stripped the blade from the warrior’s hand then drove his elbow down onto the pressure point at the back of the alien’s neck. He heard the crunch and snap of bone, and the warrior dropped to the deck, dead.

  Lungs burning, Sterling glanced up to check on the others. With one hand, Commander Banks had another of the aliens pressed up against the wall of the infirmary by its thick neck. She held her pistol in her other hand and was firing across to the other side of the room. Sterling followed the line of the plasma blasts and saw that she was aiming at the side door to the infirmary, where more of the alien warriors were trying to force their way inside. Lieutenant Shade had progressed deeper into the infirmary. Four dead warriors already lay on the deck behind her, the smell of their burned alien flesh permeating the air like a budget crematorium.

  “Seal the main entrance,” Sterling called over to Banks, while grabbing his pistol off the deck and running toward the side door.

  Using her inhuman strength, Banks snapped the powerful, muscular neck of the Sa’Nerran she was holding up against the wall then let it slump to the deck. Sterling fired through the side door, killing one of the warriors that was trying to enter. He then glanced behind to see Banks push one of the heavy medical bays in front of the main door and flip it onto its side to block the entrance. Plasma blasts flew toward him and he took a hit to his chest. Sterling was knocked down, but recovered quickly and moved into cover. The smell of charred material now mixed with that of the alien’s smoldering flesh. It was a stench that Sterling had never gotten used to, despite the frequency with which his senses had been assaulted by the foul smell. Four more warriors rushed inside the infirmary, using the lull in suppressing fire to press their assault. The head of the first warrior was blasted clean off by Lieutenant Shade before it had progressed more than a few paces inside. However, the remaining warriors came on, serrated blades in hand.

  Sterling sprang up and shot one of the warriors through the gut at point blank range, the weapon burning a hole straight through its body. His pistol was then again smashed from his hand and a Sa’Nerran blade sliced through the air, carving a deep furrow into his armor. Sterling felt the sharp sting of pain and knew that the blade had penetrated, but there was no time to check how badly. He landed a swinging haymaker to the alien’s face, which felt like hitting a sack of cement, then drove the blade into the warriors’ chest. However, the Sa’Nerran armor stopped the weapon from penetrating the alien’s thick skin, and moments later the warrior’s leathery fingers were around his throat. The warrior then dropped its own blade and pulled a neural control device from its belt.

  Sterling’s eyes widened as the unique weapon was pressed toward his neural implant, but then another hand reached out and grabbed the warrior’s arm; a human hand. Sterling glanced back and saw Commander Banks, blood trickling from a cut to her temple. Her eyes were wild, bloodlust having taken hold of the usually calm and controlled officer. When angered, Mercedes Banks was the most dangerous person Sterling had ever known, and he included himself in that equation. Banks twisted the Sa’Nerran’s wrist, and Sterling heard the thick alien bone snap. The warrior hissed and rasped as she drove it back and away from Sterling. The serrated blade that he had thrust into its armor remained lodged in place. Banks grabbed the
handle of the alien weapon and pulled her arm back, face still twisted with rage. Then with a force unlike anything Sterling had ever witnessed, Commander Banks thrust the weapon back into the Sa’Nerran’s chest. Except this time the armor did not resist the blade. This time the weapon, along with Bank’s forearm right up to the elbow was driven through the alien armor, through its flesh and clean out the other side. Removing her hand, Banks tossed the carcass aside and stood over it, chest heaving and teeth bared.

  “Thanks,” said Sterling, standing in front of Banks, though she didn’t appear to see him. It was like she herself had been turned. Sterling tapped his neural interface and spoke again, though this time in his mind. “Mercedes, come back to me,” he said, and this time there was recognition in the Commander’s eyes. She looked at him and her face transformed so that she no longer appeared wild and feral.

  “I hate these alien bastards,” she said, wiping her hand on her pants to remove the alien’s blood and guts from it.

  “I can tell,” said Sterling, picking up his plasma pistol for a second time. “Keep channeling that anger and strength,” he added, meeting his first officer’s eyes. “We aren’t finished yet.”

  Above all else, Sterling valued and respected strength, which is why he valued Mercedes Banks for more than just her obvious fighting abilities. Weakness angered him, especially weak people who wore the UG Fleet uniform. Humanity was at war with an enemy that despised them, and that was now turning human against human through their devious neural weapon. There was no room for weakness. There was no space for moralizing. That was the point of the Omega Taskforce – to do what the rest of the Fleet could not, or would not. It was their raison d'être. And it was something Sterling believed in, despite him not agreeing with Admiral Griffin’s macabre methods of recruitment.

  Lieutenant Shade then moved past them both, closed the side door and used a cutting beam on her plasma rifle to melt the seams and seal the entrance.

  “We can reach deck one through the crawlspace hatch in the infirmary,” Shade said, turning back to Sterling.

  Sterling nodded then remembered about the crew of the Imperium that were lying on the medical beds, with Sa’Nerran neural devices attached to their implants. He walked over to them, closely followed by Banks and Shade. There were six crew members in total, and each was showing the spidery tell-tale signs of neural corruption around their implant. In the short time since the neural weapon had been developed, Fleet scientists had discovered little about how it worked, and nothing about how to correct the mutilation once a person had been affected. The brain damage was permanent, which meant that the six crew members lying in front of him were ticking time-bombs and could turn on him and his crew at any moment.

  “We can’t help these people,” said Sterling, while lowering the power setting on his plasma pistol. He shot each of the six crew members in the head, with barely a second’s pause between each shot. Each crew member spasmed then lay still, a flat-line tone emanating from their bed’s medical sensors. “But there are still crew on this ship who we can save,” Sterling added.

  Shade moved over to the crawlspace hatch and removed the panel. She then checked and tossed down her rifle, which Sterling could see was already depleted, and took a pistol from one of the crew Sterling had just killed. Neither Shade nor Banks showed a flicker of emotion at what Sterling had done. They were all Omega officers. This wasn’t the first time they’d had to kill members of the Fleet, and each of them knew it wouldn’t be the last.

  Chapter 8

  Thanks for the assist

  Captain Sterling hauled himself out of the compact crawlspace and into the deck one rest rooms. He immediately caught a strong whiff of the chemical cleaning agent that was used to sanitize the restrooms on Fleet ships. The scent was as distinctive as the pungent smell of burning Sa’Nerran flesh and – at least to Sterling’s nose – no less unpleasant.

  “Lana had better appreciate this,” he muttered, dusting down his hands then wiping them on his pants. “This is the twenty-fourth century equivalent of crawling through the sewers.”

  Lieutenant Shade moved up to the restroom door and pressed her ear to it. “I can’t hear anything outside,” she said, speaking through a neural link to Sterling and Banks.

  “That doesn’t mean there isn’t one of those alien bastards lurking outside,” replied Sterling, while turning up the power setting on his plasma pistol to maximum. The energy cell in the weapon was already almost depleted, and he estimated he’d get three or four shots at most before he was out. However, thanks to the armor the Sa’Nerran warriors all wore, Sterling also knew that maximum power was the only way to guarantee a one-shot kill. “We should expect heavy contact, so be ready,” Sterling added.

  Shade nodded then also adjusted the power setting on her weapon to maximum. “It’s a straight line from here to the port egress onto the bridge,” the weapons officer said, indicating the line of attack with the flat of her hand. “But we may need to blast or cut our way through the bridge door.”

  “I’ll try to reach Captain McQueen and let her know we’re coming,” said Sterling. “The last thing we need is friendly fire.” He then tapped his neural interface and reached out to Captain McQueen. Lana’s voice immediately filled his head.

  “Lucas, if that’s you, now would be a good time to get in here!” said Captain McQueen. Neural communication omitted any extraneous noises, such as the sound of weapons fire or the cry of the alien warriors, so Sterling couldn’t gauge the severity of the situation on the bridge. However, the sound of Lana’s frantic cry, framed and isolated inside his mind, was chilling enough for him to know she was in deep trouble.

  “We’re out of time,” said Sterling, moving up beside Shade. “We need to get in there now. Nothing fancy, just a straight up power play.” Turning to Banks, Sterling added, “You’re up, Commander.”

  Commander Banks moved to the door and tightened her grip around the handle. She then braced her back against the wall and jammed her leg up on one of the sinks before hauling back with all her extraordinary strength. The metal door creaked and groaned then unwillingly slid open, unable to withstand Banks’ raw muscle. Shade moved through first, with Sterling close behind, both swiftly and proficiently checking the corners then moving into cover. The corridor was clear and Sterling was able to advance to the port egress unchallenged. The sound of urgent voices and weapons fire bled through the thick metal door that led onto the bridge. Sterling felt his pulse quicken and body flood with adrenalin. However, it wasn’t fear that prompted this reaction, but anticipation. Like the naval warship captains in the age of sail, Sterling relished getting into close-quarters action.

  “On three,” said Sterling, aiming his pistol at the door before beginning the countdown. “Three, two, one…”

  A fierce torrent of plasma blasts then surged toward the door. The energy cell in Sterling’s pistol was quickly depleted, but with Banks and Shade also concentrating their fire, the door soon gave way. Smoke from the melted remains of the material provided cover for their assault, and as usual it was Lieutenant Shade who advanced first, followed by Commander Banks. With his pistol useless, Sterling drew a Sa’Nerran blade from his belt – he’d kept the alien weapon just in case – and followed his crewmates, keeping his head low. The smoke stung his eyes and burned his lungs, but he pushed on, ignoring the pain and discomfort. Banks and Shade were already locked in combat with Sa’Nerran warriors on the bridge, making full use of the element of surprise. Confident that his crew could handle the alien invaders, Sterling focused his attention to the command platform. Captain McQueen would have been the primary target for the Sa’Nerran assault force. A Fleet captain under Sa’Nerran control would be a powerful weapon. He had to prevent McQueen from being turned and captured.

  The smoke dissipated enough for Sterling to get a clear view of the captain’s console. Lana McQueen was locked in a struggle with two warriors, one of which was trying to force a neural control device onto he
r head. Sterling ran toward her but was struck to the body by a plasma blast and bowled over. The fall winded him, but he pushed himself up just in time to see the warrior charging at him, weapon raised. The barrel of the alien rifle flashed but the blast flew wide, giving Sterling an opening to attack. Throwing the serrated Sa’Nerran blade like a shuriken star, the alien weapon impaled itself into the warrior’s eye socket. The alien crumpled to the deck and let out a harsh, waspish cry, pressing its leathery hands to the wound. The alien then yanked the blade clear and Sterling felt a spray of hot Sa’Nerran blood lash his face. Glancing across to the command platform, Sterling saw that the other aliens had almost succeeded in fixing the neural device to Captain’s McQueen head. He scrambled toward her, but the wounded warrior grabbed his ankle and yanked him back. Sterling roared with frustration and twisted his body to face the alien. One of its yellow eyes was now just a bloody mess, but the other was fixed onto him, wide and unblinking. Unlike human eyes, which expressed more about a person’s state-of-mind than even words did, Sa’Nerran eyes were blank and soulless. The look on its leathery face gave no indication as to whether the creature was angry or afraid, or even if it felt pain at all. However, Sterling didn’t care what the warrior felt, if it felt anything. He only cared that it had invaded a Fleet ship and attacked its crew, and that meant it had to die.

  Grabbing the alien by its neck, Sterling drove his fingers through the warrior’s gaping wound and into its eye socket. The creature’s rasps and hisses grew to a near deafening level as blood gushed from the wound and poured down Sterling’s arm. Using the alien’s eye socket for leverage, he then hammered the warrior’s head against the command platform, focusing on the weak point of the alien’s otherwise robust anatomy until it lay dead. The smell of Sa’Nerran blood invaded his nostrils, so thick that he could practically taste it. Wasting no time, Sterling grabbed the alien’s pistol and spun around to face the captain’s console. He aimed the alien weapon at the warriors that were still wrestling with Captain McQueen and fired, killing one instantly. The second reacted swiftly and swung the body of McQueen in front of itself, using the ship’s captain as a shield. Sterling cursed then checked on Banks and Shade. His weapons officer was fighting an alien warrior hand-to-hand, hammering kicks and punches into the Sa’Nerran’s body as if it were a training bag. Across the other side of the bridge, Banks had her hands wrapped around a warrior’s throat, crushing the life out of the alien. Her teeth were gritted and bared. Sterling tapped his neural interface and called out to his first officer.