The Omega Drive

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The Omega Drive Page 17

by Nik Whittaker


  “You find that far too easy,” the pilot said, as they began the take-off procedures.

  “It makes me physically sick,” Valen wiped his brow.

  Once the engines had been engaged, and the ship began its slow ascension, the pilot removed their helmet.

  “Well, you’d have me fooled,” Vittoria said, straightening her hair that the helmet had ruffled.

  “This is the largest group yet,” Valen replied, ignoring the comment.

  “We’ll need a good distraction for this one,” Vittoria agreed.

  “Are the others in position?”

  “They’ve been on radio silence for the last cycle, but no reason to think otherwise,” Vittoria answered.

  “I’ll go talk to the passengers, they’ll be petrified,” Valen stood, and moved through the cockpit to towards the cargo area.

  The ship was a large cargo transport, traditionally used for livestock. It had been repurposed for human cargo by Valen, and his slave ring, before the Syndicate takeover. After the revelation by Vittoria of the illegal trafficking that had took place under his nose, Valen had ceased all work, but when the Syndicate came calling, he brought them back into action. Between himself and Jonir, they began transporting as many Assembly refugees to safe houses instead of the mines. It wasn’t long until Vittoria found her way back to her brother and Valen, seeing the work they were doing; she joined them.

  Valen pulled aside the door which separated the cargo bay from the living quarters of the ship. It opened onto a railing, which looked down on the cargo space below. It overwhelmed him as he looked out onto the mass of people below. The noise of them all talking, crying, and shouting was deafening. As the ship as broke atmosphere it shuddered, followed by the feeling of slight weightlessness before the artificial gravity kicked in. Below, the people fell silent, many of them had never been off planet, so the feeling was unnatural to them. Valen took the moment of quiet to speak.

  “Everyone,” he called out from the railing.

  Half the group turned to see where the noise was coming from, the other followed their lead.

  “Hello, I understand you are all scared, and worried about what is happening. But you need to trust me. I am not a member of the Syndicate, and we are not taking you to the mines. I work for the Underground Assembly.”

  He could see the puzzled looks from the people below.

  “We are going to take you to a safe place, where you will be hidden from the Syndicate.”

  The people below began to understand, and a few cheers rose from the crowd. Valen couldn’t help but feel adrenaline rise inside him. This was a much better feeling than transporting slaves.

  *

  The ship continued its journey. The people in the cargo bay were still cramped, but they were supplied with water, and food to keep them as comfortable as possible. A cycle later, they arrived at their destination.

  “We’re approaching Station Delta now,” Vittoria told Valen.

  “Excellent, hopefully they’re ready with the decoys,” he replied.

  Once the ship had docked at the station, Valen exited through the side door, heading into the hanger. He was halfway down the ladder, when he heard clapping below.

  Looking down to the hanger floor, he could see a figure below him, clapping a slow applause.

  “Well done Valen, you almost had us fooled. Come down.”

  He dropped the last few steps of the ladder, and spun round, coming face to face with Tres. The mask close enough that Valen could see his reflection in the gloss black material.

  “We had our suspicions of you from the start, glad to see you didn’t disappoint.”

  Behind Tres, an army of seven, Jackals were all standing in formation, guns trained at Valen. He had to think quickly

  “We’re just here for a refuel,” he said, trying to keep as calm as possible.

  “Please don’t insult us further,” Tres said, planting a kick into Valen gut. He doubled over, spitting blood from the impact.

  “Now, we’ll take this ship to its intended destination, and you will be taken for trial,” Tres motioned for two Jackals to get into the ship.

  They were halfway up the ladder when a shot echoed around the hanger, followed by another and then a third all in quick succession.

  Tres turned to find the source, only to see three of her Jackals dropping to the floor, blood and flesh ripped from their heads.

  “Return fire!” She shouted in vain, as a forth shot ripped into another Jackal.

  From the side of the hanger, a large man ran into view, swinging a long-handled hammer. He swung it in an upwards arc towards one of the remaining Jackals, its jaw shattering from the impact, a mess of saliva and blood exploding into the air.

  “Jonir,” Valen nodded a greeting, whilst he drew his pistol, and aimed it at Tres’ head.

  “Hello Valen,” Jonir greeted back, without slowing his swing arc which impacted the kneecap of another Jackal, before the others could react.

  A final shot fired, and another Jackal hit the floor. Only Tres, and the two Jackals climbing towards the cockpit remained.

  Tylr stepped into view, their sniper rifle still smoking from the four shots they’d just taken.

  “Vittoria!” Tylr shouted in warning, as the first up the ladder reached the top. The hatch slid aside, revealing shotgun barrel The point-blank shot showered all those below in a red mist of blood, the headless body falling and catching the other Jackal with an elbow to the face. The last Jackal lost their grip from the weight of the dead body, falling eight feet to the ground with a sickening thud, blood pooling under their head.

  “Congratulations, but there will be people looking for us, and you. You can’t hide forever!” Tres mocked, despite Valen’s gun to her temple.

  “Well, you’ll not live to see that day,” Valen hissed then fired a bullet into the Jackals temple.

  The others looked on in shock at the brutal shot, Tres falling to the floor, blood pouring from the mask.

  “She would have done the same to us,” Valen explained.

  No one denied the fact.

  A buzzing noise broke the silence, Vittoria moved back into the cockpit to answer the call.

  A moment later, she returned to talk to the others.

  “Guys! That was Dack. The Coyotes are back in business!!”

  48

  The communication came through the encrypted route. From the source, they coded it to look like a routine shipping update, which was then re-directed, and piggy-backed onto several other signals, splitting it up into smaller segments, each of which were unreadable on their own.

  It was at this stage, that Jako collated the segments from the places that only he knew where to look, and recreated the coded message, it had one more level of protection on it. He checked it twice before he spun away from the console.

  His set-up was similar in some respects to his previous Azimuth module. Only now the entire room was underwater. Using the same exosuit he wore, with air currents to allow movement, he was comfortable floating in the water. The only alteration, was the face mask which allowed him to breathe in the water, which he had got used to.

  His module was at the end of a long tunnel, far out from the main underwater base, so as the signals he received, and sent, had no discernible location should anyone scan the area. He moved into a current stream, which flowed down the tunnels. The force of the water allowed him to move at speed down the tube, until he reached the main complex. The soft lights along the tube illuminating the way.

  Using his air currents from the suit, he moved out of the stream, and into another sector of the complex. Swimming upwards, until he broke the surface of the water. The room was still several kilometres underwater, but the air system distilled breathable air from the water, to allow for life support. Jako pulled himself out of the water, and activated the muscular support embedded in his suit.

  “Jako, what’s up?” Travis spoke, raising from his desk.

  The room was m
ade of clear glass, allowing visibility on all sides of the room and out into the expanse of the ocean. Along the side of the room a light blue seat and desk was against the wall. In another world it looked like a prison, but here it was a safe house.

  “We’ve had a, erm, communication come through,” Jako explained, he stepped onto a circular pad on the floor next to the water hole he’d emerged from. A blast of heat enveloped his body, drying all the surface moisture off him.

  “A communication to us? From whom?” Travis looked worried.

  Since the Syndicate take over, Travis and the remaining council members, including two Endlings who had refused to join Shai’s crusade, had hidden in the Oceans of Straith. Here, they lived in hiding, waiting for a time they would be safe to emerge. Jako had joined them when it had become clear that for his work with communications, he wanted somewhere isolated to continue. He had joined the exiled Council, and agreed to monitor the outside world for them. He had no desire to be in the galaxy anymore, since the Coyotes has disbanded.

  “Well, I need to, erm, access the IR decryption key,” Jako replied.

  “Really? There’s only three people in the galaxy that know about the code, and one of them is dead,” Travis replied.

  “I know,” Jako answered. Jenkins and Dack were the only ones left who had the codes. When the exile had been in progress, they created the codes so that they could be contacted, but they were only to be used in emergency situations.

  Travis paced the room.

  “I must call the council together, we each split the code between us to prevent risk of betrayal.”

  Jako nodded.

  “One moment,” Travis walked over to the glass window beside the desk. Placing a hand on the glass it illuminated with a computer display. He tapped a few buttons and waited.

  “I’ve arranged the meet, come, let us take our places.”

  They moved through a door which slid aside, and walked out into the larger complex. If you didn’t know your way, it was a maze, each panel being transparent meant that if you mis-stepped, you would walk into the glass. As a security measure it was ideal, there was no way anyone could sneak up on you without being seen.

  They entered the central chamber of the complex, a room several times larger than any other, and a huge dome rose high above them. The view was filled with varying marine creatures, some emitting lights and colours, whilst others bumped into the glass ceiling.

  After a moment, four more people entered the room. Jako knew them well now, having lived in the complex with them. There were two other human council members, and the two Endlings. A total of six.

  Once they had all taken their seats, which circled the dome, and included a seat for Jako who had become an official council member on his arrival, Travis began.

  “We have received an IR message,” he got to the point. The hushed whispers scattered around the room. “As you all know, this was only meant to for information of great importance. Be it good or bad, yet we agreed any IR comms would need to be a joint consensus to read, to secure our safety.”

  “If we read it, erm, then the sender will know our location,” Jako added, wanting to make sure all the information was on the table.

  “I see, so we risk our well being by reading it?” The other male council member, Peter, said.

  “This is true, however are we not curious about the news? Perhaps we can return to the surface?” A large, hard skinned Endling whom Jako had befriended, named Grotu said.

  “And what if it’s a trap?” Peter replied.

  Travis held up a hand, “we need a fair vote on this, there are variables either way. The majority wins the vote,” he answered.

  The council all nodded and mumbled an agreement.

  Jako scanned the room, he hoped they would read the message.

  One by one, a hand was raised with either a thumbs up, or down.

  Travis started, thumbs up, followed by Peter who gave the thumbs down. Grotu gave his thumbs up and the choice moved to the second Endling, a small male named Quint. He gave a thumbs down. Next the female human, Zara, gave the thumbs up.

  The choice landed with Jako, who smiled, knowing the result was positive as he gave the thumbs up.

  “It’s agreed, we read the code,” Travis nodded. The disapproval clear on Peter and Quint’s faces. “Jako can you bring it up here?”

  Jako nodded, the signal was on the computer logs, and once read it didn’t matter, their location it would relay back to the sender. One by one the Council entered their part of the decryption code until it was all entered. Jako hit play on the message.

  “Jako!! We need you!” A recorded message filled the room.

  Jako smiled as he recognised Dack’s voice.

  “We’re going to stop the Syndicate army and take back the galaxy. If you’re listening Council guys, you best send Jako back up to us so we can get this done.”

  The council all exchanged glances, Jako met the looks with a laugh.

  “C’mon Jako, the Coyotes have a galaxy to save!” Dack shouted out.

  49

  It had taken a few cycles to get everyone together, and to keep it all under the Syndicate radar. But the whole group had arrived at Nephlim, where the remains of the StarQuake was still rusting.

  Dack looked around the table, which was set up in the middle of open air dust bowl next to the StarQuake, which loomed above casting a shadow over the table. Everyone was sat around it, tucking into the food which was laid out for them.

  At the opposite head of the table, Jenkins sat, deep in conversation with Valen, who was sitting with Vittoria. Dack wondered if there was something between them, but decided it was best to leave any speculation for now. Jonir was on Vittoria’s other side, with Lyla opposite. Hixon and Ezekiel were next along, and the table was rounded up by Jako, and Tylr on the other side. Dack took the final seat. It wasn't the original Coyotes, but each of them had lost something in the last few years, and a desire to alter the course of the galaxy bound them.

  After the food was finished, and they scattered several flasks of ale, and other alcoholic concoctions around the table, the conversation turned to the task at hand. The sun was beginning to set, and the long shadows cast a shade amongst the gathered.

  “Does everyone know what we’re up against?” Dack asked, once all the conversations had lulled.

  A few nods around the table, sounds of agreement.

  “We steal the Omega Drive… ” Lyla began.

  “Ship, the Omega Drive Ship, designated ‘Journey’s End’ by the Syndicate,” corrected Hixon, updating on some intel the Underground Assembly had gathered.

  “Right, the Journey’s End, and get it back to the Underground rendezvous, where we can regroup,” Lyla finished.

  “That’s the basics of it, what we need is a foolproof plan that allows us to break in, steal, and escape with the ship,” Dack replied.

  A silence dropped over the table, the whole room in thought.

  Dack cleared his throat. He hadn’t planned on coming back, he’d been happy drowning his sorrows, and had resigned himself to the fact that he would spend the last of his days in a self-destruct cycle. Yet, seeing the group all gathered here, a family once again, he couldn’t help but remember the reasons they all came together. The bond they had formed. It was then that the pieces fell into place; he knew that this was the place he was meant to be, he was ready to lead them all back into the fight.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Dack said, all eyes turned to look at him in anticipation.

  *

  The group had hammered out the plan to its finer details, they all agreed that it might just work, though it would be far from easy.

  Dack had climbed up the access ladder, and onto the top of the damaged StarQuake. Sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bow, he looked out in the sky ahead of him. The view from the top allowed a panoramic view of the sunset, as the light dropped behind the horizon, casting a purple glow across the sky. He sat there, admiring the v
iew, and enjoying the peace, for what might be the last time in a long while.

  Footsteps on metal alerted him to someone behind him. Tylr appeared, a bottle of bourbon in their hand.

  “Care for some company?” They said, passing Dack the bottle, which he gratefully accepted.

  “Anytime,” Dack replied, moving over to allow them to sit beside him.

  “Where did you go?” Tylr asked.

  “Getting lost, running away,” Dack replied, his tongue loosened from the alcohol.

  “I get that, I do,” Tylr gave him a sympathetic smile, “but when you left, it broke the group. You don’t realise it, but you and Tanner were what kept us all together.”

  “No,” Dack shook his head.

  “Yes, regardless of what any of us say, you guys drove us forward and held it together. Now, with Tanner gone, it was just you, and I think you knew that. So, you left because you didn’t know how to handle it. I know that’s a scary thought, but without you, the team just fell apart.”

  Dack took a long swig of the bottle.

  “You’re right, I couldn’t handle that responsibility, not so soon after Tanner. I needed to breathe, to get away.” He passed the bottle back.

  Tylr put an arm around Dack, he couldn’t help leaning into them. Below them, they could see the others, still drinking and talking. For the first time since Tanner's death, they were relaxed.

  “See what happened when you sent the message out, everyone came running back. This is your team now, with some new additions,” Tylr smiled.

  Dack stood up, looking out at the people below him, Tylr remained seated.

  “Everyone!” Dack shouted out, the intoxication had taken control.

  The group below all stopped to look up at Dack, the last dying sunlight casting his silhouette out across the dust floor.

  “Tomorrow we will do the impossible, and tonight, we celebrate for the future. Thank you all for coming, and welcome you all into The Coyotes.”

  A cheer came up from below, as everyone raised a glass to Dack, their leader.

 

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