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

by G J Ogden

  Sterling smiled and accepted the cookie, which he then proceeded to dunk into his coffee. Then he had a thought, though he knew immediately it was one that his first officer wouldn’t like.

  “Fletcher was pretty cagey about the number of ships he’d recruited to his cause,” Sterling said, biting the end off the cookie and waiting for Banks’ reaction.

  “We’re better off without that traitor’s help,” Banks hit back, tearing off a strip of jerky and holding it out for Jinx. The hound took the food politely in its jaws and began gnawing on it with relish.

  “He still has all the mutineer ships,” Sterling continued, still nibbling on the cookie while testing out his idea further. “And he hinted that there may be many more, recovered from the ruins of battles that took place over the last few decades.” Sterling shrugged. “The fact the Sa’Nerra have left Middle Star alone suggests that the force Fletcher has amassed must be pretty powerful.”

  Banks shook her head then angrily tossed her fork down onto the empty meal tray. As usual, his first officer had polished off the contents in less time that it would take most people to finish the first course.

  “If it comes down to needing that mutinous piece of trash on our side then we’ve already lost,” Banks hit back. Her emotions were still running high and it hadn’t taken much for her temper to fray. She appeared to recognize her slip and took a sip of coffee to calm her nerves.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Sterling replied, relaxing his stance a little to help douse the flames that had sprung up in the belly of his first officer. “But something tells me that Christopher Fletcher’s part in this war isn’t over yet.” Jinx then bayed and wagged her tail. “See, even that thing agrees with me,” Sterling said, pointing to the hound.

  “She…” Banks corrected again, rubbing the dog’s ears. “And she agrees with you because you’re the captain,” she added, smiling. Then Banks’ expressed turned suddenly more serious. “You should know that whether I agree with everything you do or not, I’ll always have your back, Lucas,” she said. The rapid change of tone took Sterling by surprise and he straightened up. “No matter what,” Banks added, holding his eyes. Her stare was so intense, Sterling almost had to look away.

  “I know, Mercedes,” Sterling replied, with matching earnest. Then he finished his coffee, pushed his chair back and stood up. “Now, I’m going to try to grab a power-nap, before all hell breaks loose again,” he said, rubbing the aching muscles at the back of his neck.

  “Aye, Captain, let me know if you need a wake-up call,” said Banks, while still stroking Jinx’s ears.

  “I doubt things will stay quiet long enough for me to need one,” Sterling replied, pushing his seat back underneath the table. “But unless the ship suddenly catches fire, gets attacked by a giant space slug or is about to fall into a black hole, I’d appreciate it if I could be left undisturbed for the next couple of hours.”

  Banks nodded. “I’ll see to it, Captain.”

  Sterling headed toward the exit then aimed a finger back toward Jinx as he went. “And if I step in that thing’s crap on the way to my quarters, Acting Ensign Jinx will be going for a spacewalk…”

  Chapter 23

  Permission to speak freely

  Sterling woke with his heart pounding in his chest and his fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his skin. Cursing, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and forced his fists to unfurl, leaving his hands shaking.

  “Damn it, get a grip…” Sterling growled, pressing his eyes shut and compelling his body to obey his commands, rather than the irrational impulses brought on by his subconscious mind. Quickly, his heart-rate relaxed and the tremors in his hands subsided. The vision of Mercedes Banks, dead at his feet by his own hands, then slipped deeper into the recesses of his waking mind. Soon, through a combination of controlled breathing and sheer force of will, the images sank away completely, like an old battleship lost at sea.

  “Hello, Captain,” said the computer, cheerfully. “Would you like me to conduct a brief session of psychoanalysis? Or perhaps we can meditate together. I hear that meditation can be effective in circumstances such as yours.”

  Sterling laughed and glanced up at the ceiling of his quarters, where he always imagined the omnipotent presence of the computer to be located.

  “I’d like you to mind your own damn business and give me a ship’s status report,” he replied.

  “As you wish, Captain,” the computer said, breezily. “Perhaps later?”

  “Perhaps not,” Sterling answered, peevishly. He then dropped onto the deck and adopted the plank position, ready to execute his ritual set of push-ups while the computer intoned the status of the Invictus.

  “Fleet Marauder Invictus is operating at eighty-one percent efficiency,” the computer began. Sterling found the merry, balanced tone of the computer’s voice to be helpful while performing his set. It was like a metronome ticking away in the background. “Regenerative armor is continuing to heal. The current projection is one hour, fourteen minutes from the point at which I finish this sentence until full regeneration is complete,” the computer continued as Sterling rapidly reached the mid-way point of his set. “We are experiencing minor power fluctuations on decks three and four, sections seven through eleven. All other systems nominal. We remain on course for waypoint marker designation Sierra-Zero-Zero-Seven. Estimated time of arrival, twenty-three minutes, eighteen seconds from now.”

  Sterling completed his forty-eighth rep then remained in a plank position. “I don’t suppose there’s any news from the Fleet?” he asked, hopefully.

  “Negative, Captain, we are far beyond the range of any aperture relays,” the computer replied. “We are deeper inside Sa’Nerran space than any Fleet vessel has ever ventured before. It’s quite exciting, don’t you think?”

  There was a sort of mystical dreaminess to the computer's voice as it said this. To Sterling, it sounded like the quirky AI had just announced something supernatural, as if they’d passed through the wardrobe into Narnia.

  “I think I hate this part of space with a passion,” Sterling replied, “but I’m happy you find it so fascinating,” he added, sarcastically.

  “Thank you, Captain, coming from you that means a lot,” the gen-fourteen AI replied, apparently not getting the sarcasm.

  Sterling huffed a laugh. “Was there anything else to report?” he added.

  “Canine fecal matter was reported on deck two, section seventeen, but it has been dealt with,” the computer intoned.

  Sterling cursed the name of their adopted beagle hound under his breath, then cursed its owner for good measure. “Very well, computer, thank you,” he replied. He then completed an additional ten push-ups, finding it easier than he’d expected. He missed the additional mass of Commander Banks on his back, forcing him to work harder. Springing back to his feet, he then felt a familiar link forming in his mind.

  “I was just thinking of you,” said Sterling before Banks had even spoken.

  “Oh, really?” replied Banks. “Isn’t there some Fleet regulation against that?”

  Sterling shook his head. “I don’t mean like that,” he hit back, quickly changing his tank top and pulling on a fresh tunic. He threw his old one into the laundry processor then headed for the door. “I’m finding the press-ups too easy these days,” Sterling went on, making a bee-line for the elevator to deck one. “I need the additional bulk of your solid frame to push me harder.”

  “Bulk?” Banks replied, clearly affronted by Sterling’s choice of words.

  “You know what I mean,” Sterling replied, punching the button for deck one.

  “And it’s a good job too,” Banks replied. “I’ve knocked teeth out for less than that…”

  Sterling laughed then marched out of the elevator and onto the bridge. The short sleep had done him good, despite the rude awakening that was becoming a regular feature of his nighttime routine. Commander Banks was already at her post. She smiled
as Sterling entered, the two of them exchanging the sort of knowing looks that suggested they were both in on a secret that no-one else knew. However, this exchange of glances went unnoticed by anyone else. Lieutenant Shade was curiously absent from her post and Ensign Keller’s back was turned to Sterling as he entered.

  “Lieutenant Shade is waiting in your ready room, with Lieutenant Razor,” said Banks, answering Sterling’s question before he’d had the chance to ask it.

  Sterling nodded. “What’s the status of the aperture?”

  “The scanners are still clear, but we are picking up a mass near the threshold. It looks like it’s the remains of a moored heavy cruiser, not unlike the one we encountered earlier. Except this one looks to have been pillaged for parts a long time ago. Whatever the reason, it’s dead in space.”

  Sterling nodded. “Understood. Prepare to go to battle stations and surge as soon as we’re in range,” he replied, adjusting his route and heading for his compact ready room instead of his Captain’s console. “I’ll make this thing with Razor quick.”

  The door to Sterling’s compact ready room swooshed open as he approached, revealing Lieutenant Razor in the chair opposite his desk. Shade was standing to the side of the door, ever vigilant. Sterling sucked in a deep lungful of the ship’s recycled air then moved around to the desk, preparing to sit down and give Razor the bad news. However, his engineer surprised him by being the first to speak.

  “Captain, I can save us both some time,” Razor began. She sounded calm and appeared relaxed. “Commander Graves explained my condition. I accept that I may pose a risk to the ship and understand the conditions of my ‘parole’ as it were.”

  Sterling felt relieved that Razor had tackled the issue head on, and with such frankness. Then again, he expected nothing less from an Omega officer, and from the straight-talking Katreena Razor in particular.

  “And you understand what I am required to do, should you begin to turn?” Sterling asked, since that was the one-part Razor hadn’t been explicit about.

  “Aye, Captain, I understand that you will activate the kill switch that Commander Graves installed while I was unconscious,” Razor replied. The engineer glanced back at Lieutenant Shade. “Or the Lieutenant here will blow my head off. One or the other.”

  Sterling’s eyebrows raised up a little at this last statement, though Shade’s expression remained as still as a painting.

  “Naturally, I’d rather not have that happen, Captain,” Razor then continued, meeting her captain’s eyes again. “But it is what it is.” The engineer shrugged. “I guess all those commendations were for nothing, after all.”

  “They were always for nothing, Lieutenant,” Sterling replied, flatly. “Commendations, medals, promotions and even your release from the service… all of it is meaningless if we lose this war. What you did was help us to get one step closer to victory. That’s what matters.”

  Razor appeared to consider this for a moment then straightened her back. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?” she asked.

  Sterling glanced up at Lieutenant Shade. “You can resume your post, Lieutenant,” he said. Shade’s already stiff posture stiffened further. “It’s okay, Lieutenant, you no longer need to stand guard. We have an understanding.”

  Shade nodded. “Aye, Captain,” she replied then promptly, albeit reticently, exited the ready room.

  “Permission granted,” Sterling then said to his engineer.

  “This war already forced me to give almost everything to the Fleet, Captain,” Razor began, sounding more relaxed now that the overbearing presence of the ship’s weapons officer had gone. “I hated the Fleet for what it forced me to do. Losing my brother was hard enough, but then Fleet rewarded me for that act with this promotion and this post. The only reason I didn’t tell Admiral Griffin where to stick her offer was the prospect of mustering out once this assignment was complete.” Razor sighed and shook her head. “But now I know that there is no escape for me. No future. I don’t like it, Captain, but I accept it.”

  Sterling listened, never taking his eyes off his engineer as she spoke. He had known that the young engineer wanted out of Fleet, because of what it had cost her. He hadn’t considered that she resented her Omega Taskforce posting because of it. Maybe that was down to his own lack of empathy, Sterling realized, or perhaps he was just too cold-hearted to care. Either way, it changed nothing.

  “Very well, Lieutenant, resume your station,” Sterling said, standing to signify that their meeting was over.

  “Aye, Captain,” Razor replied. The engineer stood to attention, spun on her heels and marched toward the door.

  “Lieutenant Razor,” Sterling called out, causing his engineer to stop and glance back over her shoulder.

  “I know I’m not the most personable commanding officer in the fleet,” Sterling began, causing Razor to raise one of her white eyebrows a touch. “And I know this job is hard, thankless and cruel. It asks everything and gives nothing. But we’re not here for commendations, Lieutenant. We’re here to ensure that humanity survives, by whatever means necessary. If the cost is our lives, or the lives of the ones we care about or respect, then that is a cost we have to bear.”

  “I understand that better than most, Captain,” Razor replied.

  Sterling knew he was pushing her and as a result Razor’s bitterness had become impossible to contain. However, he had to know that his engineer could still be trusted.

  “But you should understand something too, sir,” Razor added, unexpectedly. “This ship and this fight are now all I have left. You want to know if you can still trust me, and I get that. All I can tell you is that I’m all in.” Sterling studied his engineer for a moment and for the first time since she’d joined his crew, he felt like he knew her. “Will that be all, sir?” she continued, looking eager to leave.

  Sterling straightened his back and pressed his hands behind his back. “No, Lieutenant, not quite,” he said, suddenly feeling anger swelling in his veins and causing a pit to form in his stomach. However, it wasn’t anger directed at his engineer, but at the bind her situation had placed him under. “This ship and this crew are my responsibility,” Sterling continued. “You should be under no illusion that I will sacrifice any one of you should the mission require it. But only if the mission requires it. Until that time comes, I will fight for you till my dying breath, and I expect you to do the same. This isn’t over for you yet, Lieutenant Razor. I order you to fight this thing until we find a way to cut this cancer from your body. Is that clear?”

  Razor turned and straightened to attention. “Yes, Captain, perfectly clear.”

  “You are dismissed, Lieutenant,” Sterling said.

  Razor turned and exited the ready room, leaving Sterling alone with a fire in his belly that he had no way to quash. Only the heat of combat could give him the satisfaction he craved. A neural link then formed in his mind and the voice of Commander Banks entered his thoughts.

  “We’re approaching the aperture now, Captain,” Banks said.

  Sterling clenched his fists, realizing that in a few moments he was likely to get the tonic his soul required.

  “Battle stations,” Sterling replied.

  Chapter 24

  Relics of the war

  Sterling stepped out onto the bridge and was bathed in the low-level red lighting that signified the ship was at battle stations. Ahead of them through the viewscreen were the remains of a timeworn Sa’Nerran Heavy Cruiser. Once it had been a gatekeeper, perhaps, Sterling thought as he studied the carcass of the once mighty vessel. Now it was a fossil in space, merely providing evidence of what had at one time been a Sa’Nerran fortification.

  “The cocky bastards,” said Banks, leaning forward on her console. “It looks like that old cruiser was carved up for parts pretty recently,” she added, glancing across to Sterling. “They obviously think their space is no longer in danger.”

  Sterling stepped up to his console and slid his hands into the familiar grooves on
the sides. “Why cannibalize an old cruiser like that, though?” he asked, tapping his finger on the console. “Could they really be that short of resources?”

  Banks shrugged. “Building a war armada is expensive, especially when it includes a ten-kilometer-long monster like the Titan,” she suggested. “And prior to the neural control weapon, when we had the upper hand, Fleet was destroying Sa’Nerran ships at a ratio of two or three to one. That had to have hurt them.”

  Sterling considered this while observing the remains of the cruiser. It was a tantalizing proposition. Perhaps the Sa’Nerra had been much closer to defeat than Fleet had realized. The neural control weapon may have saved their leathery skins literally in the nick of time, causing Fleet to hesitate and falter. Had they pressed the attack over a year ago and invaded Sa’Nerran space, perhaps the war would have already been won.

  “It’s all academic now,” Sterling replied to Banks. “We missed our shot to finish them off and now they have us by the throat, unless we can do something about it.”

  “I have a data feed from the relay probe we sent through the aperture, Captain,” said Lieutenant Razor.

  The ship’s engineer was at her post at the rear of the bridge, as if nothing had happened. Lieutenant Shade cast her watchful eyes in the direction of Razor, then returned to her work. However, it was clear to Sterling that his weapons officer was still wary of their engineer. In truth, he would have it no other way.

  “There is another gatekeeper cruiser guarding the other side of the aperture, but it has also been stripped,” Razor went on, undeterred by Shade’s suspicious glances. “From the limited scans the probe made before it automatically shut down, it appears to be a six-planet system. The third and fourth planets are inside the goldilocks zone for Sa’Nerran life. There are signs of a settlement on the third planet, but the fourth appears uninhabited. However, there is a large space station in orbit around the planet.”