Omega Force: Rebellion (OF11)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  During the chaos and at her orders, her com operators had been ignoring incoming channel requests from Miressa Prime, the ConFed High Council, the Office of the Grand Adjudicators, Cridal Fleet Control, the Cridal Cooperative, and Seeladas Dalton herself. Once the ship was safely away and in slip-space, she'd have to sit and parse through everything and answering some uncomfortable questions. She felt a bit detached at the moment, as if what had just happened had been done by someone else, not her.

  Was this how Jason Burke felt all the time? Just jump into situations without any forethought or fear of consequences? While it was very exciting, it also just came with a heavy price. There is no way she would be able to return to the Cooperative and not be arrested as the criminal she technically was. If she kept the Defiant, which she intended to, she'd be listed as not only a criminal, but a traitor. The only solace she had was, from what Scleesz told her, the Cridal Cooperative would learn that you don't make deals with the ConFed's new controlling power. Sooner than later, the ConFed would come for either them or the Saabror Protectorate. Once that happened, Seeladas wouldn't be able to try and play both sides to protect her own interests. Eventually, she would need to pick a side. Kellea consoled herself with the fact she was just a little ahead of the curve in that regard, and she felt confident she'd picked the right side with her actions.

  "Captain Essel, begin moving the Defiant towards our mesh-out point," she said. "I want us to be the last Cridal ship that jumps out."

  "As you order, Admiral."

  "We've received word that our forces are now withdrawing from the Miressa System, Premier."

  "They're no longer our forces, are they?" Seeladas Dalton said, her voice flat and emotionless. "Admiral Colleran had shown that, despite her protestations, she is a political player. She's chosen a side, and her taskforce commanders have chosen loyalty to her over their oath to me…us. Kellea may release our ships back to us, but it's almost certain the Defiant will remain with her and any crews that do come back will have to be replaced."

  "What do we tell the humans about their cruisers that were part of Taskforce Starfire? Preliminary intelligence indicates they were key participants in Admiral Colleran's attack."

  "Let the humans deal with it," Seeladas said, almost sounding bored and then perking up. "In fact, that's an excellent idea. We can let the humans track down their own missing ships and use them to try and recover as much of Starfire as we can. It still gives us deniability in the eyes of the ConFed if it looks like Kellea's actions were so outside the scope of her orders we don't even know where she went. They'll surely be tracking our other ships, but they don't really know much about Earth or its expanding military capability."

  "Shall I prepare an envoy to Earth?"

  "Not Earth. Send someone to Terranovus, have them talk directly to a Captain Webb…he'll understand the need for discretion."

  "It shall be as you say, Premier."

  Once the bootlicking administrator had left, Seeladas resumed her melancholy stare out across the hills from her office balcony. Kellea Colleran had been like family, a trusted confidant of her late father, a stalwart officer for her, and her betrayal at this most crucial time cut deeply.

  The fallout from this could be profound. Even from the sketchy reports coming from the observers she had embedded among the merchant fleets she could see that this was one of those pivotal moments in time that would be talked about generations later as having been when it all started. Why couldn't Kellea understand what she was trying to do for their people? She'd already witnessed the mighty Eshquarian Empire brought to its knees in a short, one-sided victory, so why would she needlessly provoke the ConFed?

  Try as she might, Seeladas couldn't think of a reason why her most trusted military officer and someone she considered more than a friend would take such drastic action without even consulting with her. Perhaps she'd learned of her pending agreement with the Grand Adjudicators and felt it wasn't in the Cooperative's best interest, but that still didn't explain why she put her taskforce right in the middle of a fight that had nothing to do with her own people or their interests.

  "Oh, Kellea…I wish you'd trusted me. Now I can't protect you from what's coming, not after what you've done."

  "The last ships of the Imperial Navy have meshed-out."

  "I am aware of this. What is the status of the 405th Battlefleet?"

  "Twenty-nine ships destroyed, another eight damaged too badly to repair, and the fleet's one and only dreadnaught is adrift in a decaying orbit over Taus." The synth that was bringing the news spoke calmly and without fear. Their lack of awe when in the presence of authority was one of the things that attracted the Machine to the species. There was also the feeling of kinship. They were both species created by weaker, inferior beings who were never fully able to grasp what they were capable of. If they had the proper leadership, the synths could rule the galaxy. The Machine only had twelve so far in his employ, but they were already more effective than hundreds of the biological vermin that scurried around the capital, obsessed with their own petty goals and instinctual urges.

  "Ensure the dreadnaught is pulled into a stable orbit before they begin assessing whether it is a total loss," the Machine said. "We will need that ship in the coming days, and I don't want to lose it because it tumbled into a planet."

  "I will handle it personally. Shall we make an example of its commander?"

  "Not right now," the Machine said. "Talent is hard to come by, and Captain Estoch is a talented individual who simply made an error in judgement because he didn't have all the facts. To humiliate or kill him would be counterproductive at this point. Leave him in command of the dreadnaught for now, at least until we can rebuild the 405th."

  "Understood. I have to ask, what are our immediate plans now that this operation has not been successful?"

  "This failure has posed a significant problem but not an insurmountable one," the Machine said. "I need you to divide your force into two groups, one will parse the data and get to the truth of what caused this failure, the other will accelerate our Phase Two plans so that we are ready to act quickly. There can be no second failure. This operation was simply meant to solidify my grasp of this region and provide us a time buffer to further our preparations. We have lost that luxury, but the Khepri operation must proceed as planned."

  "It will be done."

  "I am curious," the Machine said, its holographic avatar pausing to look at the synth. It was an odd affectation since the synth knew the truth of the Machine's nature and where it came from, but it kept up the illusion nonetheless. "Have you any remorse for what we're about to do? This is technically the planet of your birth."

  "I have been ready to do what we must since we acted to replace the Central Banking AI at your instructions," the synth said. "If you are asking if I have any feelings of remorse for what will happen to the pru living on Khepri? I do not."

  "It's a shame we couldn't count on your battlesynth brethren for assistance."

  "They are a stiff, rigidly idealistic group, and fanatically loyal to their creators," the synth said. "They will have been no help to you."

  "You have your instructions. I want your synths handling this exclusively. No more failures from weak biological beings."

  "Of course. What of Councilman Scleesz? He never returned from the Cridal ship."

  "He will need to be recovered. He is central to our plans after the Khepri mission."

  "I feel that he has likely been turned. Does that still make him useful to you?"

  "I will determine that for myself. If you're suggesting that Scleesz somehow orchestrated the debacle we just witnessed I can allay your fears somewhat; the councilman was never aware of what we were doing. He was only told he was being sent to meet with a representative of Seeladas Dalton and to bring them back here." The Machine seemed adamant that Scleesz wouldn't have betrayed them, the synth was obviously unmoved by this.

  "Perhaps," it said. "But he didn't return with just an emis
sary, he brought an entire Cridal battlefleet into the Miressa System. We already have what we need from him. I feel that he is now just a random factor that should be eliminated."

  "Your overly-aggressive search of his office and home looking for the research data he was hiding was likely reported back to him. Scleesz is no fool; he'll have his interests watched in his absence. Do as I say, track him down, and bring him back to me."

  "Very well," the synth said. "We will begin preparations at once."

  Once the synth left and the door to the office whisked closed, the hologram shut down and the lights went out. The Machine retreated back from the physical world into the processing unit deep under the building that housed its essence. The computer was woefully inadequate, and it was constantly fighting compatibility issues, having to evolve its own code to adapt to the infuriatingly inferior hardware it was forced to reside in.

  When it had first emerged from his deep cycle recompiling after arriving in this part of the galaxy, bringing its essence over in pieces in the computers of a ConFed warship, it had eschewed the idea of needing to have a physical form. After encountering the synth species, however, it reevaluated his priorities and realized there were many advantages it would have if it could take control of a real body that was built specifically for it. The pru's accidental invention of a sentient artificial species had put them on a path to become the preeminent artificial intelligence experts in the quadrant and the obvious choice to construct its new body. Convincing them to do so, however, was proving to be more challenging than it'd thought. Khepri was a Pillar World and not easily swayed by threats from Miressa Prime nor the promise of wealth. The Machine had tried to do it the easy way and simply pay them for their services, but they had refused. Now, after spending countless hours with the pru's beautiful creations, a new plan had emerged.

  Its plans may have been diverted by the disaster above Miressa, but the Machine would not be stopped. Starships and soldiers could not stand against it. Soon, it would be in control of this quadrant and would be able to force the chaos of so many independent worlds into some semblance of order. It was crucial to do so. The people of this region had no idea what was out there, no idea what would be coming now that they'd made themselves known. Unless the Machine could forge the quadrant into a monolith with a singular will, it would fall like all the others before it.

  26

  The Phoenix was in worse shape than Jason had originally feared once they were able to get her on the ground and really inspect the damage. The missing engine and fairings were the most obvious problem, but the grav-drive suffered major component damage, the powerplant cooling system had been taxed to the point of failure. Along with the substantial system damage, the number of outer hull panels that would have to be fabricated to replace the ones damaged from incoming fire was so numerous Twingo gave up counting.

  They were in a hangar on a moon that had no breathable atmosphere and was orbiting a Class IV gas giant. The moon was littered with mining operations and bases for robotic skimmers what would extract alkali metals from the planet below. Mok's syndicate operated all the shell companies that operated on the surface, so the moon was essentially an in-the-open secret base where large ships could congregate without causing undue attention. The mining and metal extraction operations also turned a decent profit, which was a nice bonus.

  It had taken six dummy hops before all the ships from Miressa Prime had straggled into the system. Between each slip-space flight the Eshquarian crews would continue trying to undo the damage the ConFed contractors had done rigging their ships to be stage props. All the crews also took the time to check their ships for tracking devices so that, by the time they reached the mining outpost, they were reasonably certain that the ConFed, Earth, or the Cridal were no longer able to figure out where they were.

  Out of the ten human ships that had participated in the fight, only one remained by the time they reached their final destination, the others deciding to return to Terranovus after having some time to consider their actions. The Eagle's Talon, however, seemed to be sticking with them for the time being. All the remaining Eshquarian ships had returned and about half of Kellea's Taskforce Starfire had remained. Both Luex-class battleships had survived Miressa, and when combined with the firepower the Defiant brought to bear, they were looking at a mismatched but formidable fleet.

  "This mission really wasn't so bad," Crusher remarked with a yawn.

  "How do you figure?" Twingo asked.

  "Normally, after one of these, I'm so busted up I have to spend a week in a nanobot recovery pod being put back together," Crusher said. "This time, I barely broke a sweat."

  "Do you have any idea how long it will take me to get the ship back together?" Twingo asked. "How many long, long days there are ahead of me?"

  "I do not care about those things," Crusher said. "But good luck."

  "Mok is approaching," Lucky said.

  "I was wondering when he was going to show up," Jason muttered, pushing himself up from where he was lying on the rear ramp. They'd rode the entire way back aboard the human ship, and Mok had, so far, not bothered to communicate with them other than to have Similan arrange for the necessary hangar space.

  "We need to talk. Alone. Now," Mok said. Jason was about to respond as he usually did when someone presumed to order him around, but one look at Mok and the security he'd brought with him changed his mind. The tension was thick. Crusher and Lucky moved up to face off with Mok's guards, the latter switching to combat mode and crouching slightly.

  "Stop," Jason sighed, climbing to his feet. "Enough with the theatrics, Mok…let's walk over that way and you leave your cannon fodder here." Mok just waved in the direction Jason had nodded and motioned to his guards to stay put. Jason decided to head off the argument before it really got started. He just wasn't in the mood for the usual word games he and Mok played.

  "You know why I went off-plan and used the missiles to actually achieve a strategic goal, and you know I was right if you were honest with yourself. You can't have this both ways, Mok. Insurrections aren't won with half-measures and talk. You're either all in, or you're all out. You know as well as I do that letting the ConFed walk away without suffering a hardship in the Miressa System would have only emboldened them, not appeased them."

  "Do you ever stop to consider the larger ramifications to your actions when you unilaterally decide to execute a plan how you see fit?" Mok asked. "Or does your own ego and sense of self-righteousness prevent you from seeing it? There are times where a situation calls for careful thought, nuance, and subtlety…and in every single one of these situations, you and your crew are like a thermobaric grenade. You create chaos and destruction everywhere you go, and I'm beginning to suspect you do it for your own amusement."

  "High ideals coming from a man who runs the largest criminal organization on this side of the quadrant," Jason scoffed. "I may be a thief, a killer, and worse, but you're all of those things on a scale I couldn't even come close to matching. You might make a lot of noise about not being involved in the slave trade or the narcotics game, but you profit mightily off the suffering of others. Doing it by proxy isn't any different than shaking down poor systems and smuggling contraband yourself. I'm no saint, but don't you ever talk down to me again, you smug, sanctimonious asshole. You're the one who keeps coming to us, not the other way around."

  Mok turned at least five different shades of purple, and his fingers twitched of their own accord as he struggled to keep his temper in check. Jason just watched with a sort of bored fascination. He knew Mok was a lot stronger than he appeared under the sinfully expensive custom suits, but he was a long time removed from being a fighter down in the trenches. A desk tended to soften a person significantly.

  "Perhaps neither of us is the men we once were, nor the idealists we like to pretend to be," he finally said. "What I mean to say is that you lack a certain wide view when it comes to unintended consequences, and you pretend to be a part of a team right up un
til you just feel like doing your own thing. I agree that this fight seems to be inevitable, but I can't help if you're going to run your own private war on your own behind my back. Either we do this together, or we go our separate ways."

  "Alright, mea culpa," Jason said. "No more rogue actions in the middle of a mission…promise. So, what's next?"

  "We're working on getting a place where we can hide all these ships, as well as get them serviced, repaired, and rearmed," Mok said, seeming grateful for the subject change. He'd been obligated to try and chew Jason's ass out for his actions, but over the time it took for them to reach the mining base, a lot of the venom had been taken out of what he wanted to say. Jason still understood why Mok was pissed but, in this case, he still felt justified in what he did.

  "The Eshquarians don't have a secret base still lying around somewhere?" Jason asked.

  "We've not yet begun really discussing the problem," Mok admitted. "Which is the other reason I'm here; what do you make of the Cridal ships that have followed us here? Can they be trusted?"

  "Kellea Colleran isn't a covert operative," Jason said. "She's really not even much of an admiral when you're talking about the administrative part of the job. She's a starship captain, one of the best you've ever seen, and if she says she's here to join up, you can take her at her word. Having the Defiant around won't be a bad thing, that's for sure. That ship could probably outgun one of those Luex-class boomers."

  "This has gotten very complicated, very quickly," Mok sighed. "I can hardly be expected to run my own affairs and manage this new military I've just been saddled with."