Omega Force 3: The Enemy Within

by Joshua Dalzelle

  “We have three coming down on us above and to port,” Doc reported. “The other three are extending out and will likely try to come at the target from the south.”

  “Copy,” Kellea said calmly. “We’ll meet the three closer targets head on and then come around for the remaining three. Stand by.” She pulled the nose up and advanced the throttle, sending the Phoenix rocketing straight up and putting them on a collision course for the three incoming ships. The loose arrowhead formation seemed to waver in uncertainty as the bigger gunship bore down on them before breaking to avoid a collision.

  The lead ship passed directly over the Phoenix and her point defense turrets blasted its engines into inoperability. It began drifting slowly to the ground on repulsors and emergency power. Kellea stomped the left pedal and sent the ship into a sharp hammerhead turn to try and get a better angle on the ship passing below and to port. The chin turret spat red death as the nose came around and ripped the stabilizers off the left side of the small craft. As it spun down, barely in control, Kellea realized these were small assault boats, not fighter craft. They were probably ferrying troops down to the roof of the MoD building.

  “Where’s target three?” she asked as the Phoenix completed her turn and began accelerating back down towards the city.

  “To port and low,” Doc said. “Running fast along the deck.”

  “Got him,” she affirmed before pushing the power back up and sending the gunship tearing down into the atmosphere after it. She saw that it was over an industrial area that looked to be mostly deserted. “Bring the main guns to bear. Destroy it,” she ordered. The powerful plasma cannons on the leading edges opened up and turned the small assault boat into scraps, none bigger than her fist. She yanked the ship out of the dive and hauled it into a violent bank to the right that would put them in line with the last three targets, all of which were slowing to drop off their loads on the MoD rooftop.

  *****

  “That should about do it,” Jason panted inside his armor. Even Crusher looked a bit winded as he nodded his agreement, his mouth split in a wide, savage smile. Lucky, of course, just stood and waited for his companions to catch their breath.

  “That’ll teach ‘em,” Crusher said.

  “I am not certain the lesson learned will be of much use to them now,” Lucky lamented, looking at the bodies of the company commander and his second. Crusher laughed uproariously at this and slapped Lucky on the back. They had been pressing the troops hard in order to keep them from regrouping, but the commander had surprised them and decided to order his charges to turn their guns on any civilian they could find. The three then changed their plan to hunting down the commander specifically and making him pay. He had begged for his life when cornered, and even threw his lieutenant in front of him as a shield before Crusher ended his life. Jason lamented the deaths of the regular troops. They were just your average ground-pounders following orders and likely fed a load of lies as motivation. But the company commander had obviously been specifically selected and placed for the mission. His death gave Jason no regrets.

  “Let’s get some altitude and call for a pickup,” Jason said, eyeing the rooftops nearby. It took them more time than he would have preferred to find a way up, and even then it took getting up on a lower building and climbing the exterior of the taller to get in a space clear enough for the Phoenix to come and get them. Jason and Lucky used their repulsor jets to easily ascend to the roof. Crusher, who flat-out refused to be carried, arrived some time later, huffing and puffing from the vertical free-climb. “You’re out of shape,” Jason observed. This was met with a full teeth-exposed snarl. He let it drop ... he wasn’t that confident in his new armor.

  “Phoenix,” Jason said into the com. “We’re ready for a pickup. You should see my beacon.”

  “Stand by assault team,” Kage said. “We’re still engaging hostiles.”

  “Copy that.”

  As they waited they saw three smaller craft flaring and slowing near the roof of the MoD building. Can’t get ‘em all, I guess. Even as Jason was lamenting the fifty percent success rate of his crew, the lead ship disintegrated into an enormous fireball. The other two turned and tried to accelerate away, but the Phoenix shot out from over the building, wheeled about at an impossible angle of attack, and hit a second target, sending it spiraling down into the street. The third dove to get some airspeed and break pursuit, but the powerful gunship, still in a dive and racing down parallel to the building, rolled around and pulled up in a gut-wrenching maneuver that made Jason hold his breath. They lost sight of the Phoenix for a moment, and he waited for the inevitable explosion he knew was coming from his ship impacting the surface of Gryr-4. He looked up as the small assault boat raced overhead trying to escape. A split second later the Phoenix thundered over their position, mere meters above the buildings as it pursued the last target. They were all speechless for a moment.

  “Has Doc been practicing?” Crusher asked in an awed voice.

  “That wasn’t Doc flying,” Jason said, utterly certain who was in command of his ship at the moment.

  “Kage?” Lucky guessed.

  “Try again,” Jason said.

  “Humph,” Crusher grunted. “You know ... she’ll probably be looking for a job after this—” he trailed off as Jason’s helmeted head snapped around and fixated on him. He was smart enough to leave it alone.

  They waited around for another five minutes before the telltale whine of the Phoenix throttling back made them look up again. She appeared over the building in front of them, flaring with her nose up and descending towards them. Once the ship settled into a steady hover, the transit beam descended and they gladly left the planet of Gryr-4 in the hands of the iots.

  “Report,” Jason ordered as he walked onto the bridge, his armored feet clomping on the deck. “What’s that cruiser doing?”

  “Running,” Kage said. “After we knocked out their assault team, and apparently you guys made short work of the surface troops, they broke orbit and began accelerating out of the system.”

  “That’s probably preferable,” Jason said. “This was bad enough. If we destroyed that cruiser we’d be in a world of shit. What are you smiling at?” His question was directed at Kellea, who sat in his seat grinning from ear to ear.

  “I like this ship.”

  Chapter 20

  “So what happens since that cruiser meshed-out of the system without killing off all the biodrones?” Jason asked Doc. He had just climbed back out of his armor and was wearing jogging pants and a t-shirt until he could get back to his quarters to clean up.

  “They’ll continue on, unfortunately,” Doc answered. “It’s possible, even likely, that they have an agent on the planet who can broadcast the signal any time it’s needed. But with the Fleet presence gone the cleanup will be impossible, not to mention without the ConFed there to swoop in and save the day, it would be a wasted effort.”

  “I think the situation got away from them on Gryr-4,” Kellea said, still in the pilot’s seat as they flew through slip-space. “It’s doubtful they expected that much of the population to also revolt when they kicked off their little party. With that sort of widespread confusion, I doubt the ConFed could have restored order even if we hadn’t disrupted their plan.”

  “It’s all just speculation at this point,” Jason sighed. “And without knowing the signal ourselves we can’t even contact the iot government directly to help out. What is it?” His last question was directed at Kage, who looked like he’d just learned some very bad news.

  “Gryr-4 wasn’t the only planet,” he said. “Five more outbreaks have been reported in this sector alone, some more violent than others.”

  “Shit,” Jason said simply. “There’s nothing we can do for them at this point. Let’s just make our rendezvous with Steader Dalton and hope he has some answers, not to mention the resources he has available. What’s our ETA?”

  “We’ll both arrive at the planet Forret’al in twenty-two hours
,” Kage said. He’d bounced a com message through Gryr-4’s public network from Kellea to Dalton prior to departing the system. They’d received a message back simply containing a time and date and what appeared to be random numbers. Kage was able to determine that these were, in fact, planetary positioning coordinates, so they surmised the time was when Steader estimated he would arrive.

  “Let’s bump our speed and try to beat him by a few hours,” Jason said. “I’d like to get set up for observation before he makes planetfall.”

  “Commanding speed increase,” Kellea said. “This should put us there four hours ahead of him without running the engines too hard.”

  “Perfect. I’m going to go get cleaned up,” Jason said as he turned and walked off the bridge.

  *****

  “Why did we pick this planet again?” Jason asked.

  “It was a good mix of having advanced communications and spaceports while also not having a very strong ConFed presence,” Kage answered. “No presence, actually. They also have a relatively laidback approach to law enforcement.”

  “Works for me,” Jason said. He had no intention of walking into this meeting unarmed.

  The flight down into the atmosphere and their landing at the remote spaceport went off without a hitch. After a quick strategy session, Jason, Kellea, and Crusher disembarked and hired a shuttle to fly them from the spaceport to a spot near the meeting place, which was a little over one hundred kilometers away.

  While the large, open square looked much too open and public to make for a good clandestine meeting place, these were the exact reasons they had chosen it. They spent the better part of an hour walking around the perimeter of the public area, looking for anything out of place and for a good location for Jason and Crusher to observe the meeting. So far, Steader Dalton seemed to have no clue as to the existence of Omega Force, and Jason wanted to keep it that way. By making it appear that Kellea had arrived by her own cleverness and resourcefulness, Jason would be able to keep the Phoenix and his crew as a wildcard in case things weren’t as they appeared to be.

  “It looks like things are all clear,” Crusher said softly. “Where do you want to post up at?”

  “The rooftop at our seven o’clock,” Jason said, not looking over at his friend. “The trees near there will offer decent concealment and we’ll still have a good view of the meeting area. Kellea, go ahead and take your place. Good luck.”

  “You too,” she said. She looked nervous, but determined. They split up and went their separate ways, still having more than two hours before Dalton’s ship was expected to make orbit. As Jason walked across the square, he felt ridiculously conspicuous in the full-length trench coat he had donned in order to conceal the fact that he was wearing full combat armor. It didn’t matter that the aliens on Forret’al wouldn’t see someone in a long, black coat on a warm day as necessarily unusual. The cliché of it made him feel positively absurd. But the capability his armor gave him trumped looking a bit foolish any day.

  “I like that coat,” Crusher said as they forced their way through a door that would allow them access to the stairwell leading to the roof.

  “You would.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Never mind,” Jason said. “It’s nothing. You think the foliage is enough concealment up here?” As he crouched near the edge of the roof he could clearly make out Kellea sitting on a bench as well as the opposite side of the square.

  “I should think so,” Crusher said. “Unless they know to look for us up here, it’s not likely we’ll be noticed.” Jason placed a small camera on the short ledge, linked the feed to his neural implant, and then settled in out of sight to wait for Steader Dalton’s arrival.

  “Do you hear that?” Jason asked after two and a half hours had passed.

  “I do,” Crusher confirmed. “Engines. It sounds like two ships approaching.”

  “This wasn’t really part of the plan,” Jason said, already concerned that Dalton was running late. “Phoenix, I want you prepped for flight. That means engines idling and clearance granted from Departure Control, and keep a good lock on the tracker we put on Kellea.”

  “Copy, assault team,” Doc’s voice came over the com. “We’re already running and waiting.” Jason watched the video feed from the camera and waited as the two distinct engine signatures became clearer and closer. He could also see that Kellea was becoming increasingly agitated as she also detected the sound of approaching ships. He rolled over, shrugged out of the oversized coat, and deployed his helmet in anticipation of the need to spring into action in an instant. Crusher also came up on the balls of his feet and flicked the switch to activate his plasma rifle.

  “There,” Crusher said, pointing as two ships, one a basic shuttle that was ubiquitous on most worlds with space-faring cultures, and the other a sleek, two-person attack craft. The second was obviously ConFed in origin.

  “Oh, shit,” Jason said, even as both ships made a full tactical landing right in the middle of the square. The door to the shuttle slid open and a man Jason recognized as Steader Dalton stepped out and gestured to Kellea. She stood and took one hesitant step towards him and stopped. Jason could see her mouthing something to him, but wasn’t able to hear due to the still-running ships. Steader shook his head emphatically and gestured again for her to approach the ship. Jason stood and began to move over to the corner of the ledge so he could get a clear view, Crusher moving right behind him.

  Kellea took a few more slow steps, placing her within a few meters of the idling shuttle, before she turned and ran. Steader made a gesture and two ConFed troops, obviously from Special Operations Section, leapt from the open hatch and caught her before she could get any distance. From there, everything seemed to move in slow motion for Jason as he leapt off the roof and Kellea was bodily dragged back into the shuttle. His repulsors fired automatically and he hit the ground at a dead run, hearing another thud behind him as Crusher also leapt from the single-story building.

  He raised his railgun as the shuttle lifted off and flew quickly away in the opposite direction. He snarled in frustration and disgust, unable to risk a shot on the vessel while she was onboard. The same was not true, however, for the small attack flyer that was also lifting off and rotating around to pursue the shuttle. He allowed the targeting computer in his armor to line up the shot and squeezed off two fast rounds.

  The hypersonic projectiles obliterated the starboard engine of the small craft and sent it careening into one of the squat buildings that ringed the square. Jason, running so hard his armor-shod feet were busting up the paving stones, neared the little flyer as it rolled off the crumpled side of the building and landed with a loud crunch in the alleyway. Unbelievably, he could see it begin to right itself and lift into the air again, shaking as the remaining functional repulsors struggled.

  Jason raised his railgun again, switched to low-velocity mode, and sent a stream of ultra-dense slugs into the aft section where the small powerplant was housed. The ship went still as high-pressure vapor spewed out of the hull breaches from the damaged coolant system. Hurdling the pylon that used to have the starboard engine mounted to it, Jason came up to the transparent canopy that covered the two-man tandem cockpit. He grabbed the seam with his gauntlet and commanded the armor to full strength as he pulled it up. After a slight whine from the armor’s actuators there was the screech of rending metal as the canopy was torn from its mounts. He tossed it aside and looked into the ruined craft. The being in the aft seat was obviously dead; a piece of metal had come through the bulkhead and skewered him through the chest. The pilot, however, was still alive, conscious, and familiar.

  “Hello again,” Crusher said to him pleasantly before crashing his fist into the side of the flight helmet, knocking the agent out. “What are the odds?”

  “Not great,” Jason said. “This has been a setup from the beginning. Grab this piece of shit and let’s get out of here. Phoenix, we need an emergency pickup.”

 
“Copy, Captain,” Kage said over the com. “We’re already airborne.”

  *****

  The wind whipping by the open ramp of the big gunship was deafening, but Jason was sure it was the bitter cold of Forret’al’s upper atmosphere that brought the agent around. It was the same one that Jason had shot in the head with a stunner back on Camderan-2. The fact that he and his cohorts had been with Steader Dalton, and had abducted Kellea, gave him a sinking feeling about who it was that had set Crisstof Dalton up.

  He was now holding the agent at arm’s length, standing on the rear ramp of the Phoenix as it climbed up out of the atmosphere. The agent was actually dangling out over nothing since Jason was anchored to the very end of the ramp. The agent awoke with a start and, once he quickly looked around and saw his surroundings, began struggling mightily against the armored fist that clutched his flight harness.

  Still holding him aloft, Jason marched back up the ramp and passed through the electrostatic shield into the cargo bay where the temperature, and air pressure, were much more hospitable. “Now that I have your attention,” Jason said. “We’re going to have a little talk. Anytime I don’t like the answer, we’re going to take a little walk back outside. Understand?”

  “I will tell you nothing,” the agent said, now hanging limply and no longer struggling.

  “Not a wise choice,” Crusher said, walking up beside Jason. “At least not if you enjoy breathing.”

  “You!” the agent said, his eyes going wide. Jason retracted his helmet and looked at him closely.

  “So you remember us?”

  “Yes, no thanks to you,” the agent spat. “It took the medical section weeks to reconstruct my memories.”

  “Well,” Jason said. “This time I’ll be sure to leave your mind intact to the very end.”

  “I already told you, you’ll get nothing from me,” the agent said, still not bothering to struggle against such insurmountable odds.