The Omega Drive

by Nik Whittaker

  “He died making sure we could all make it off the Axiom,” Dack whispered.

  An explosion rocked the ship again, snapping them to the present, mourning Tanner would have to wait.

  “The core just lost stability,” Vittoria explained, “we need to land this thing fast or it’ll shake itself apart!”

  Dack brought up the navigation screen, a quick scan of the area found a small moon close to their location. Uninhabited.

  “There, get the engines to push us as best we can,” he explained.

  The StarQuake lunged in the direction of the moon, taking crossfire from the battle going on around them, but the damaged, limping ship was a non-threat to the Syndicate army and was ignored. Any scans of the ship showed it as a lost cause, the damage too high for it to be a threat.

  The crew spoke little as the StarQuake made its way downwards towards the surface of the moon. They had failed, lost a teammate, and been the catalyst for a war which could alter the cause of history.

  “Brace yourselves,” Dack said as he overrode the safety locks to force the ship into a collision course for the surface.

  The StarQuake crashed into the moon, dust flying around, covering the viewscreen with a grey mist. Several sections of the ship detached as the low gravity of the moon pulled on them, leaving a wake of debris as the ship finally slowed to a stop. A husk of its former size and condition.

  The Coyotes looked up into the space above the ship, the lights of the battle beginning to slow. Since the Omega attack from the Axiom, over half the Assembly forces had been wiped out, they stood little chance of turning the tide.

  The Syndicate army were victorious in the fight for the galaxy.

  41

  TWO YEARS LATER

  The StarQuake had survived the battle, but only barely. It now sat in a ship graveyard; the repairs needed, were more akin to a complete rebuild.

  Dack walked through the destroyed hull of the ship, searching for anything salvageable. As he entered the kitchen, he saw the table was still intact. However, laying scattered across it were the voting cups, all but one had smashed. He picked up the unbroken one, remembering the times they’d all sat around the table, celebrating, commiserating and planning.

  Since the crash, the galaxy had been in turmoil, as the Syndicate took the Solar Assembly out of power by sheer force. The Endling’s became embroiled in a civil war, between those who sided with Shai, and those who remained loyal to the Assembly, despite their past.

  The Coyotes disbanded, feeling the effects of Tanner’s death, and their part in the Syndicate’s power boost. Dack had drifted from planet to planet, using his skills wherever he could to earn enough credits to move to the next.

  Somehow, he returned to the StarQuakes’ burial site once every several cycles. It was the only place that felt like home.

  “She could fly again ya know?” The gravelly voice came from behind Dack.

  He turned to see Luther, the caretaker of the graveyard moon. His old clothes covered in black grease, and dust, matching his rough and tanned skin.

  “I don’t think so Lu,” Dack replied, as he walked down the ramp, back out into the blistering sun which burned in the sky. Nephlim, the small moon they were on, had intense sunlight creating an almost desert like atmosphere.

  “She could, just needs some elbow grease,” Luther chuckled, as he threw Dack a bottle of purified water.

  Dack caught the bottle and drank deeply, the heat creating an unstoppable thirst; he pulled down his goggles to shield his eyes from the light.

  “Maybe you’re right, but it represents something that doesn’t exist anymore Lu.”

  “Then why do you keep coming back here ey?” Luther smiled.

  Dack turned back, looking at the StarQuake from a distance. He could still see the remnants of Jako’s Azimuth, jagged teeth-like glass poking out from the top. The Solstice, Bullet Rose and Equinox were all gone, taken by the Coyotes when they left. It had only meant to be temporary, time for everyone to cope in their own way. The communication between them had faded over the months.

  “To remember what we lost,” Dack replied to Luther.

  He turned, and walked back to the Bullet Rose which was parked in the open air docks north, of the graveyard.

  “It’s not lost if it’s still here,” Luther said to himself, before turning back to his work.

  *

  Dack climbed into the cockpit, and activated the engines. Checking his Navcom for his next destination.

  Since the beginning of the Syndicate rule, they had thrown the galaxy into chaos. The change in power meant they lost the laws that kept the galaxy in check, giving way to a more extreme and dangerous state of affairs.

  Most of the criminal empires, which had formed the underbelly of the Syndicate, thrived, allowing for the exploitation of the lower classes. Dack had kept his head above water by finding freelance work, and staying off the general radar.

  The Bullet Rose broke the atmosphere of Nephlim, and began its journey towards the Rotunda. Dack flicked the autopilot on, and climbed into the back of the ship. He’d converted it into a fully habitable vessel, complete with a bed, kitchen and facilities. It was perfectly sized for a single person occupancy.

  He pulled a lever to drop the fold-up table that doubled as both workbench and dining table. Taking a bottle of bourbon from a shelf he placed it on the table, alongside the remaining voting cup he’d salvaged. Pouring a generous shot out, he paused, looking forward out of the main window of the Bullet Rose, into the dark void of space.

  “Cheers, Tanner.”

  Dack drank the entire cup and placed it back on the table. Then poured another shot, and continued until the bottle was empty. He threw himself onto the bed, and drifted into an alcohol-induced sleep.

  42

  The Bullet Rose had docked to the Rotunda whilst Dack slept, the autopilot completed the procedure with no problems.

  Dack woke, and dived for his revolver by his side. Spinning around, the room he aimed into every corner.

  The nightmares hadn’t stopped in the last two years, seeing himself surrounded by Jackals, and the rest of the Syndicate army, all with their guns trained on him and moving closer until he had no choice but to shoot.

  Once he regained his senses, and bearings, he settled into the flight seat and checked the computer. He had no new messages, but the bulletin board for the station had several notices, and potential jobs. Scanning the list he saw one which got his attention.

  Missing Persons - Kevin Holt

  Last Seen - The Glass Sun Bar

  Reward - 10,000CR

  Contact - The Windsor Sisters

  Missing person jobs were always a good payout, either you found the person and got the reward, or the person you found paid you to ‘not’ find them. Either way, you got a good deal.

  Dack stepped into the sonic shower, which was hidden in the far corner of the ship, the sound waves vibrating all the dirt and particles off his body. Once clean, he pulled on his black denim jacket, and left the ship, the revolver holstered, but hidden.

  Stepping from the Bullet Rose onto the metal gangway of the dock caused, him to flashback to the Axiom, and Tanner falling into the generator. He shook the memory away, burying it deep.

  Travelling on the long escalator he found himself in the centre of the Rotunda. The entire spaceport was built around a cylindrical core which rotated to create artificial centrifugal gravity. It was a pleasure station, filled with casinos, bars, and more deviant forms of entertainment. Spanning top to bottom, the floors circled the centre, meaning you could be at the top floor, and look over the railing and see down to the bottom, though at 1000 floors, it disappeared into a speck in the distance. Dack paused at an information board, one of many scattered around the area, the ‘you are here’ dot showed his position on the 150th floor, the only floor with no outlets as it was the dock access. He tapped on the on-screen keyboard and located the Glass Sun Bar, which was on the 75th floor. Next he tapped
the contact details for the Windsor sisters, the information showed they were on the 84th floor. He moved away and entered the lift and punched 84 into its navigation.

  Within the hour, he was at the door of the Windsor Sisters, a gentle knock and the door opened. A tall woman dressed all in black answered. Her dress was long and flowing, the shade of her hair a deep black which made it almost blend in with the dress.

  “Hello?” Her voice cold.

  “Hi, I’m here about the missing person notice,” Dack said.

  “Oh, I see, come in.”

  The interior was dim and gothic styled, Dack couldn’t help his eyes wandering to the high arch doorways, and candles which hung from the walls.

  “Please, sit,” The woman said.

  Dack did as he was told, just as another woman entered the room. Dressed in a matching style, but her hair was white.

  “Thank you for coming,” the second woman said as they both took a seat opposite Dack.

  “Sure, so what information do you have about Kevin?” Dack decided to speed up the process.

  “We need to find him as soon as possible, he stole from us,” the first woman replied.

  “Stole what?”

  “Twenty Million credits,” the second woman spat out, “he was a partner of ours, but he took the money and ran.”

  Dack nodded, allowing the women to continue their story. Kevin had been the third partner of a club the three of them had ran. But once they reached a high profits, he had taken the money and disappeared. There was no log of his departure from the stations records, so it was more than likely he was still hiding somewhere aboard.

  Dack decided he didn’t want to hang around the two women much longer, and made a hasty exit, promising to look into the case.

  He headed to the Glass Sun Bar, as much for a drink as to begin his search.

  The Glass Sun Bar wasn’t just a fancy name. In the centre of the bar, which covered two floors, a giant glass sphere hung. A singular light emitted from its centre, but the glass refracted the light, throwing out a rainbow of colours. It was the only light source in the entire bar, but its range and power covered the whole room in a dazzling light.

  Dack found his way to the bar and ordered a drink, scanning the room he saw this was one of the higher clientele bars of the Rotunda. He took it his surroundings.

  That’s when he saw it, like his nightmare come true.

  Walking through the bar were seven large people, all in black, wearing skull masks. Seven Jackals. Dack froze as he watched the figures march past, looking over all the patrons of the bar. He turned and buried his face in his drink.

  Are they looking for me?

  He had no idea if any Jackals had survived; he thought they’d killed at least half of them, yet now here they were. Seven all on the same station, in the same bar, as Dack. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “Not a fan, huh?” A man at the other end of the bar moved closer to him, “Been getting more frequent patrols in the last few months. Looks like the recruitment is in overdrive.”

  “Recruitment?” Dack asked, being cautious of the mans allegiances. He was an elderly man whose hands showed signs of hard work.

  “Yeah, you not seen the ads? They’ve been hiring hundreds to expand the Jackal numbers, creating a whole army of the Skullheads. I remember when they were just some lapdogs for the damn Prime Leader, now there're hundreds of them policing the Galaxy. Thanks to the Syndicate leadership.” He gave a mocking salute.

  Dack could hardly believe what he was hearing, the Jackals had always been the six he, and the Coyotes, had encountered. Now they were an army.

  “Jesus,” was all he could manage.

  “Ain't no Jesus here anymore. If the rumours are true, things will get a lot worse before they get better.”

  “What do you mean?” Dack realised he had been out of the loop in the last two years. Other than brief moments of clarity before he returned to the bottle, he rarely paid attention to the wider galaxy.

  “Yeah, it seems the Syndicate army has been doubling its output, everyone thinks a new war in brewing. Only no one knows who it’s with. They have driven the Assembly underground, and no-one else would dare try to take on the power.”

  “Who do people think the war will be with then?”

  “Well, if rumours are to be believed. It’s said that we’re going to fight aliens! If you can imagine such a thing,” the old man chuckled.

  Dack could believe it. Exactly as Shai had said, they were planning on returning to their side of the universe, and try to take over. An army comprising Endlings, Jackals and Omega weapons, against who knows what. Dack drowned his drink, and thanked the man for his information.

  He needed to get back on the case at hand; forcing himself to leave the information aside. He’d had his chance at saving the galaxy and failed, it was someone else's problem now.

  43

  Dack had been questioning the staff of the Glass Sun, and found some little information on Kevin’s whereabouts. He’d found out that he like to spend his time in the drug dens of floor 516, so that’s where he headed.

  As the lift moved higher up the floors, the change in style began to be clear. Graffiti began to mark the side of the buildings on the floors, and people went from being well-dressed, pristine men and women, to less dignified.

  Dack stepped onto the 516th floor and was immediately accosted by a rambling man who, Dack believed, although speaking barely a cohesive word, was asking for money. He walked past, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. He made his way along the walkway until he reached a red door, the staff of the Glass Sun had told him that this was the location of the drug den Kevin frequented, when he wanted to get away from the pristine floors below.

  Stepping inside, the strong smell of odoured smoke hit him, though he couldn’t place the scent. Scattered along the walls of the empty rooms were men and women, curled up. Their eyes darting from one place to the next, as they saw things no one else could.

  The sound of a small explosion behind him demanded he turn around. He saw a demolished door, standing in its space was a Jackal, the skull mask familiar to Dack, it was Cuatro, the one who had taken his hand.

  “Alacious Dack, you are under arrest for several charges of treason, and terrorism,” the voice barked.

  “And what if I refuse?”

  “We are authorised to use lethal force, so please, resist.” Cuatro mocked.

  Dack took a split second to decide on his action, and less time to draw his revolver, and take a wild shot at Cuatro, whilst spinning into a doorway just behind him. Pinning himself up against the wall he listened for the sound of Cuatro. Footsteps moving closer. He surveyed the room, hoping for a means of escape, but the room was empty, save for a worn mattress, and a man laying unconscious on it.

  “I’ve been waiting for a long time to find you Dack,” Cuatro shouted, the voice getting closer, “You killed Uno, he was the best of us, not that you would understand.”

  Dack checked his revolver. There was little chance of him getting out of this alive if there were more Jackals with Cuatro.

  “Are you happy with the new regime?” Dack shouted out, trying to buy himself time.

  “Don’t mock us,” Cuatro rounded the corner, coming face to face with Dack.

  Dack raised his gun and fired at Cuatro. The shot buried itself into Cuatro’s chest, the impact ricocheted off his armour. The skull mask looked down at Dack, before his right hand thrust out and grabbed the revolver.

  “Get your hands off that!” Anger exploded from Dack.

  Another bullet fired, as Dack pulled the trigger. The bullet buried inside the palm of Cuatro’s hand, but the pressure forcing him to let go. Dack pulled the revolver away, just as three more Jackals appeared at the door, none he recognised.

  “It doesn’t matter, your time is up,” Cuatro drew his Omega Rifle up, the blue energy visible through the side chamber. The charge began to hum, as it increased in power.

  A s
hot began to fire, but a visible, yet translucent, wall appeared in between Dack and Cuatro. The pulse from the Omega rifle hit the wall and dispersed across the forcefield in a firework of blue.

  Behind Dack, the man who had been curled up on the mattress threw the blanket off, and leapt to his feet. In his hands, a staff with a gun trigger at its centre, which he spun above his head, then aimed a point at Cuatro and the other Jackals. A red beam fired from its end, and exploded into the group. Cuatro stepped aside just in time to avoid the impact, and ducked out of the room to avoid more attacks.

  “Alacious Dack?” The man addressed Dack.

  “Yes that’s me, who the hell are you?”

  “Name’s Hixon, call me Hix,” the man extended a hand, as he shrugged off the homeless rags he’d been wearing, revealing a navy, military style jacket beneath. Instantly he looked official.

  “Thank’s for the assist,” Dack shook his hand, he was sure the name sounded familiar.

  “No problem, we’ve been trying to track you down for a while now.”

  “We? Who’s we? And how did you even know I’d be here?”

  “The Underground Assembly, you’ve been on our radar for a while now. Your ship triggered the security alerts as it entered the Rotunda, how did you think the Jackals knew you were in the area?”

  Dack rolled his eyes, he’d left the Bullet Rose on autopilot, so when it arrived at the Rotunda it had sent the default docking codes, rather than the Chameleon codes he’d been using to keep the ship under the radar.

  “Shit, we’ll thanks again I guess. I’d best be getting out of here,” Dack turned to leave.

  “Wait!” Hix shouted, “I’ve been told I need to bring you in.”

  “No offence, but why should I go with you?”

  “Besides just saving your damn life? How about this?”

  Hixon pulled something out of his jacket and passed it over to Dack.

  Taking it from Hixon, he looked at it, his mind spinning.

  In his hand he held a revolver, it was a silver one which perfectly matched his own in style. Inscribed with the letters T.L.