Omega Force 3: The Enemy Within (26 page)

He left Kage and went up into the gunship to find Twingo. He caught up with the engineer, still in his pressure suit, sitting in the galley grabbing a quick meal. “With the main computer down, how easy do you think it would be to rig every remaining missile in the magazine to blow?” he asked, sinking wearily into the seat across from his friend.

“Not too hard,” Twingo said between bites, “but not especially advisable. You’d be bypassing a lot of safety measures, which would make them fairly unstable. You think we need a little extra punch?”

“I’d like the insurance, if nothing else,” Jason said. “Maybe every missile would be too much, but if a few of the anti-matter warheads cooked off at the right time that could be a real difference maker.”

“Hmm,” Twingo grunted thoughtfully, staring off into space for a moment. “Four of the high-yields would do it probably. I could rig them up outside of the magazine and run a remote detonator to them.”

“It’d have to be more than just the mag-locks on the dolly securing them,” Jason said. “Otherwise the g-forces are going to send them flying before we get a chance to trigger them.”

“Leave it to me,” Twingo said with a wink. “Let me finish up here and I’ll take care of it.”

*****

The mag-locks in the landing gear released with a slight lurch and Jason triggered the ventral thrusters to push the
Phoenix
up out of the hangar. He kept the ship slightly nose-up and moved at a veritable crawl, not wanting to crunch his ship into the opening during the last part of the operation. The gunship emerged from the hangar and gracefully moved off to starboard. He could see Number Two perched on the flight deck with cables snaking into one of its open access panels. The cables were wired in with breakaway connectors so that, when given the word, the little drone would be able to zip off on its own and leave the frigate behind. The cables ran down through the hangar and all the way to Engineering where they terminated into propulsion and basic attitude control.

“We’re looking good, Captain,” Doc reported from the sensor station. “I can’t get a firm read on the ship’s core, and we’re directly next to it. I think it’s a safe bet that nobody else will detect it as they enter the system.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jason said. “I’m moving us above the formation. Let’s keep passive and optical sensors trained on planet for now. Give me a heads up of any slip-space distortions. We’re only going to get one shot at this, and we’re not even one hundred percent sure we’re in the right spot.” The bridge fell into an uncomfortable silence as everyone pondered the fact that days of frenzied activity could be for naught. “Nothing to do now but wait,” Jason said, climbing out of his seat. “Take the chair, Doc,” he said. “I’m going to go get ready. You too, Crusher. There can’t be any unnecessary delays.”

Jason, Crusher, and Lucky walked off the bridge on the way to the armory. It would be less than comfortable to be sitting around in full armor for potentially up to a day, but if their hunch proved to be correct things were going to happen very fast. He looked at his hulking crewmate and braced himself for the argument he knew was coming. If they were going to have to get aboard Dalton’s ship, Crusher was going to have to make some concessions and wear a full pressure suit with life support capability. This had proven to be a bit of a challenge in the past and now he was going to have to convince him to not only wear the gear he despised, but to sit in it for an extended period of time. He sighed inwardly and began preparing his arguments he would need to convince the big warrior that this wasn’t really something optional.

Kellea felt the shudder of the
Stalwart’s
subluminal engines through the deck of her detention cell. She’d been unceremoniously dragged from the bridge by Steader’s private security guards after the third exchange in which he tried to bully her and was made to look foolish by Agent Alux, who seemed to be enjoying himself enormously. Since he couldn’t take it out on the agent directly, he opted to punish her. In the end, however, he only reaffirmed the impression that he was a petulant child who was quickly losing control of the situation he found himself in. She idly wondered if he was having second thoughts about betraying his First Father and climbing into bed with the ConFed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by two pairs of heavy footfalls approaching her cell. She stood, knowing who it would be.

“You will come with us,” the guard said, holding out another set of restraints as the other kept a heavy stunner trained on her. She wordlessly held her hands out and allowed them to be bound together again. Nothing would be gained by antagonizing the guards, and any form of protest at this point would be a meaningless gesture. It wasn’t like she could storm the bridge on her own and subdue the crew. Besides ... Omega Force was still out there somewhere. She found it highly unlikely Jason would have shrugged off her capture and went back to whatever he had been doing before all of this started. They were determined and, when backed into a corner, dangerous. Their uncanny ability to suddenly appear where they were least expected never ceased to amaze her. She hoped their luck held out.

“What now, Steader?” she asked as she was led back onto the bridge. “How long will this game continue?”

“The end is upon us now, my dear,” Steader said with an oily smile. “We’re flying towards a rendezvous that, unfortunately, signifies the end of your usefulness. I thought you’d like to watch, at least.”

“So what is it?” she asked, abandoning the sarcastic back-and-forth and going on the attack. “What made you betray Crisstof?
Money? Promises of power? What was it about your life that was so unbearable you would do this?”

“Not that it’s any of your concern,” Steader said, also dropping his thin veneer of civility, “but Crisstof Dalton was a short-sighted fool. The ConFed
will
control all of this quadrant, one way or another. Would you rather be a power broker, or part of the last vestiges of resistance that will only exist for as long as they allow you to?” Kellea just stared at him for a moment, marveling at his lack of understanding.

“I’m not entirely sure why you feel compelled to convince me,” she said, looking pointedly at the captain of the
Stalwart
as she did. “I won’t agree with you and I certainly will never turn my loyalty from Crisstof.”

“Then you’re a fool,” Steader snorted. “I’ve given you a few chances to convince me you should be allowed to live, but your blind allegiance to someone who will never again see the light of day has clouded your judgment. You’re really so willing to throw it all away?”

“Some things are more important,” she said simply, turning to look out the floor-to-ceiling observation window.

“We’re beginning our approach,” the ship’s captain reported. “We’ll be achieving orbit within the next three hours and then we can begin the rendezvous maneuver.”

“Very good, Captain,” Steader said. “Please alert the crews to prepare the decks for cargo.”

*****

“We’ve got a slip-space burst near the edge of the system,” Doc reported. “Decaying energy signature shows it turning on course for the planet.”

“Right on time,” Jason said quietly. “Monitor its progress on the passive array. Is Number Two still standing by?”

“Yes,” Kage said, “although it seems a little over-eager. It’s sent twenty-eight queries within the last hour asking if it may proceed. I’ve been telling it to hold fast.” Jason just nodded and continued to watch the data feed from the sensors. The little drones seemed to be programmed with a certain amount of “enthusiasm”, though it would be a little inaccurate to ascribe that characteristic to something of such limited understanding.

“And the factory ship?” he asked.

“My data is limited with just passive sensors, but the computer projects the incoming ship will make orbit while the factory ship is on the far side. If they’re going to dock with each other, I’d imagine the newcomer will want to reach stable orbital flight before attempting to approach that monster,” Doc said, running the limited incoming data through a continual series of computer simulations to try and determine the most probably flight path. “The good news is that they won’t be flying near this formation if they hold course and speed.”

“Are they coming in with active sensors?”

“Limited,” Doc said. “Mostly some short-range radar and lidar, no long-range active sweeps.”

“Looks like they’re also sneaking into the system,” Kage said. “Does that seem unusual? Why would they be running silent?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “There could be a certain vulnerability in that factory ship, although I’m not sure who would be attacking it. Maybe they don’t want to risk detection on the slim chance someone is flying near enough to this system to pick up an active sweep.”

They sat tight for what seemed to be an eternity as the ship slowly traversed the distance from the system’s edge to the gas giant’s orbit. In that time, Jason rotated
people off the bridge to go stretch their legs, grab something to eat, and generally give them something to do besides stare tensely at their displays.

“I’ve got the ship on extreme visual range,” Doc said.
“Cleaning up the image now.” A second later the grainy image of an immense ship appeared on everyone’s monitor.

“Uh oh,” Jason said. “That is indeed a carrier. Depending on her complement, we could be in serious trouble.”

“Computer has made a positive identification, Captain,” Doc said in surprise. “It’s the
Stalwart
, a commercial carrier in Crisstof Dalton’s fleet.”

“Commercial carrier?
As in ... no weapons?” Jason asked, equally surprised.

“No weapons and no combat shields,” Doc confirmed. “At least as far as our data on the ship goes. Captain Colleren gave us a complete listing of Crisstof’s ships a while back so there were no ... misunderstandings. Unless the ship has been retrofitted for combat within the last year, it’s essentially a giant, ungainly target.”

“We don’t know what she’s carrying,” Twingo warned. “Two full squadrons of fighters could ruin our day.”

“We stick to the plan,” Jason said. “I’ve seen nothing that leads me to believe we need to change tactics now. In fact, this may have gotten a bit easier.”

“Please don’t say things like that,” Crusher said plaintively. “Every time you do the entire op blows up in our face.” He was sitting uncomfortably near the canopy in his pressurized combat suit. Jason had been shocked, and secretly a bit disappointed, when Crusher had walked into the armory and, without any discussion, had pulled out the bulky garment and began suiting up.

“Sorry,” Jason said.
“Force of habit. Let me know when the
Stalwart
enters orbit and then I need a projection of when they’ll catch up to the factory ship.”

“Running the numbers now,” Doc said. “Given the engine profile we have for that ship, it looks like it will be nearly five complete orbits for them to close in for docking.”

“As soon as the ship crosses over our position, inform Number Two it’s clear to turn on engine pre-heaters but
not
to fire the engines until we give the order.”

“I’ll keep watch and let it know,” Kage volunteered and pulled the sensor feed over to his own station. The carrier crossed the formation’s orbital path without so much as directing a radar sweep towards them. Ten minutes later Kage ordered Number Two to begin pre-heating the
Diligent
’s engines, and Jason began waking the
Phoenix
up from where they’d been drifting cold.

It was another four hours before their second operational trigger threshold was crossed. “The
Stalwart
has closed to within five hundred thousand kilometers and is holding. They’ll likely begin their final approach to the factory ship shortly,” Doc reported.

“That’s it,” Jason said. “Let’s light this fuse. Tell Number Two to execute.”

“Number Two confirms the order,” Kage said. “We’re on our way.”

Ahead of them the four inboard engines of the
Diligent
burst into life and the big frigate immediately began to surge though the formation, climbing above it and coming about to port, her prow aimed for the planet. Once the ship had turned, the engines flared brilliantly to full power and the warship shot away with surprising acceleration. Jason throttled up the main drive, no longer concerned with stealth, and tucked in tight behind the hard-running ship.

*****

“We have movement within one of the formations!” a sensor operator on the
Stalwart’s
bridge exclaimed, startling everyone.

“What?!”
Agent Alux leapt from his seat, his relaxed, almost lazy demeanor disappearing. “Carefully, tell me exactly what you see.”

“A ship’s drive just lit up and the ship itself just flew out of the formation,” the operator stammered.

“How did we not detect a starship drive running when we came in?” Steader demanded.

“It appears it was a cold start, which means the engines will likely burn out before they can get away,” the
Stalwart’s
captain said as he examined the sensor record.

“I don’t think this is a theft,” Agent Alux said tightly as he observed the sensor tracks. “It’s coming right at us. What ship is that? Go to active sensors.” It only took a moment for the sensors to identify the incoming vessel.

“It’s the
Diligent
,” the captain said in a shocked voice, looking at Kellea as he did. “How can that be?”

“Don’t look at me, I’ve been here the whole time,” Kellea said, feigning disinterest. Inside, however, her mind was racing as fast as her former ship as she tried to figure out what was going on. The person, or persons, behind the ship’s movement were obvious. What they had planned for her was an entirely different matter. They were as unpredictable as the lightning strikes in the clouds of the planet below.

“Is the factory ship under power?” Alux asked.

“Negative, sir,” the com officer reported. “They have stabilizers and maneuvering thrusters only. Their drive is offline to facilitate production.” Steader looked positively sick as the sensors clearly showed where the
Diligent
was heading.

“Fire all forward missile tubes!” Alux ordered. “Try to intercept that ship! How many fighters do we have?”

“Only five, sir. The rest are transport ships.”

“Missiles away, tracking for the incoming frigate.”
The hastily-installed missile tubes spat out a total of ten missiles that streaked away towards the
Diligent
. The bridge crew of the
Stalwart
, unaccustomed to anything remotely resembling combat, fell to pieces as contradictory orders were hurled about and people’s panicked cries filled the bridge.

“Silence!”
Agent Alux bellowed. “Captain, you are relieved of command. You,” he pointed to the cowering sensor operator, “plot the missile tracks.” While security escorted the captain off the bridge the sensor operator managed to get the feed from his instruments displayed on the main forward monitor. Alux growled in frustration as the heavy hull of the incoming warship shrugged off the three missile impacts as if they were gnats; the other seven missed completely.

Weak beams could be seen lancing out from the factory ship and leaving little more than scorch marks on the
Diligent
as it continued to accelerate right at them. Kellea’s heart caught in her throat as she watched the final moments of her once proud ship. When she closed within visual range, the rate of closure was incredible and the bright flare of her drive could clearly be seen against the black of space. On the monitor she could also see escape pods launching from the command deck of the factory ship, which was dwarfing the frigate on the visual feed.

The
Diligent
slammed into the factory ship, still at full power. The flash of the energy released from the impact blinded the sensors and washed out the display for a moment. “Still receiving telemetry from the factory ship, sir,” the com officer reported.

“Get the visual back, please,” Alux said in a quiet, stunned voice. When the display came back up they could see the factory ship, listing slightly and streaming atmosphere, with the stern of the
Diligent
, drives now dark, clearly sticking out. The kinetic energy of the impact appeared to have liquefied huge sections of hull plating on both ships and now they spun through space, welded together as the metal cooled.

“It looks like the damage has been contained to the—” Steader was cut off as another explosion, this one many times more brilliant than the initial impact, again blinded them. When the feed came back up this time, they saw that the factory ship had suffered far more than a crumpled hull; the ship was now in two pieces and the drive section was tumbling down into the planet’s atmosphere in a quickly-decaying orbit.