Dreadnaught: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Omega Taskforce Book 5) Read online

  Dreadnaught

  Omega Taskforce: Book Five

  G J Ogden

  Contents

  More by G J Ogden

  Chapter 1

  Self programming

  Chapter 2

  A different Shade

  Chapter 3

  An ignoble deed

  Chapter 4

  Do whatever you have to do

  Chapter 5

  Bone Putty

  Chapter 6

  An unusual Commander

  Chapter 7

  Blood and probability

  Chapter 8

  The missing crewman

  Chapter 9

  Ghost in the machine

  Chapter 10

  A little souvenir

  Chapter 11

  Inspired by Banks

  Chapter 12

  The scorpion and the frog

  Chapter 13

  An old friend returns

  Chapter 14

  A bridge too far

  Chapter 15

  Playing it rough

  Chapter 16

  A strange goodbye

  Chapter 17

  Whatever it takes

  Chapter 18

  A matter of trust

  Chapter 19

  Awkward bedside manner

  Chapter 20

  Don’t make me angry

  Chapter 21

  The last stand

  Chapter 22

  Valerian root tea

  Chapter 23

  The first of its kind

  Chapter 24

  Who is the enemy?

  Chapter 25

  The Obsidian army

  Chapter 26

  Skeletons in the closet

  Chapter 27

  A test of One’s mettle

  Chapter 28

  One for all

  Chapter 29

  The Obsidian crew

  Chapter 30

  Back in the fight

  Chapter 31

  The best-laid plans

  Chapter 32

  The difficult decisions ahead

  Chapter 33

  Obsidian Base

  Continue the journey

  About the Author

  More by G J Ogden

  Copyright © 2021 G J Ogden

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Ogden Media Ltd

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Laercio Messias

  Editing by S L Ogden

  www.ogdenmedia.net

  More by G J Ogden

  If you like Omega Taskforce then why not check out some of G J Ogden’s other books? Click the series titles below to learn more about each of them.

  Darkspace Renegade Series (6-books)

  If you like your action fueled by power armor, big guns and the occasional sword, you’ll love this fast-moving military sci-fi adventure.

  Star Scavenger Series (5-book series)

  Firefly blended with the mystery and adventure of Indiana Jones. Book 1 is 99c / 99p.

  The Contingency War Series (4-book series)

  A space-fleet, military sci-fi adventure with a unique twist that you won't see coming...

  The Planetsider Trilogy (3-book series)

  An edge-of-your-seat blend of military sci-fi action & classic apocalyptic fiction. Perfect for fans of Maze Runner and I am Legend.

  Audiobook Series

  Star Scavenger Series (29-hrs) - click here

  The Contingency War Series (24-hrs) - click here

  The Planetsider Trilogy (32-hrs) - click here

  Chapter 1

  Self programming

  Captain Lucas Sterling collapsed onto the cold metal deck of his quarters and rolled onto his back, gasping for air. He’d just completed his one hundred and tenth press-up, and his body had nothing more to give. However, while his muscles were sore and tired, his mind was still buzzing from the nightmare that had woken him an hour earlier.

  Cursing the images that continued to haunt him, Sterling pushed his weary frame off the deck and shuffled over to the wall, leaning against it for support. Bar a few subtle variations, the nightmare was the same as the one that had assaulted Sterling every night for the last two weeks. He would start out in the CIC of the Hammer, being taunted by a Sa’Nerran warrior who was holding Commander Ariel Gunn hostage. Gunn would berate Sterling for his lack of empathy and callous, cold-hearted ruthlessness. Sterling would then kill his old friend by blasting her head off, only to witness a grotesque scene as it re-grew and took the form of Mercedes Banks instead. However, unlike Gunn, he could not kill his first officer, no matter how hard he tried. Instead, Banks would spit on his boots and call Sterling weak before turning the pistol on him and squeezing the trigger. Then he would wake, drenched in sweat and heart thumping so hard it physically hurt. At first, embarking on a routine of strenuous exercise was enough to burn up the adrenalin-fueled energy buzzing through his veins. However, in the last few days, nothing could quiet his mind and he was simply left exhausted, both mentally and physically.

  “I wish you would allow me to assist you, Captain,” said the ship’s generation-fourteen AI. Unusually for the quirky computer, its voice conveyed a sense of genuine concern, rather than its usual buoyancy. “If you will not talk to me then at least allow me to suggest some new meditations that may help you to manage these nightmares.”

  Sterling huffed a laugh and tried to stand, but his arms were still like jelly. Instead he simply answered the computer from where he was, pressed up against the wall like a wounded soldier, lying in the trenches of World War One.

  “Send the details to my console and I’ll look at them later,” Sterling said, finally giving in to the persistent computer.

  At this point, Sterling was willing to try anything. Strangely, in the long weeks during which the Invictus had continued to cruise though empty space toward the Fleet Dreadnaught Vanguard, the computer had been welcome company. As captain, he couldn’t talk to anyone on the ship, least of all Mercedes Banks, though his first officer clearly knew he was struggling. He had to present an air of strength and infallibility. As such, the gen-fourteen had acted as a sort of unwitting psychiatrist, despite Sterling refusing its attempts to counsel him directly.

  “Thank you, Captain, I have delivered a number of new mindfulness techniques to your personal message box,” the computer replied, adopting its more typical, cheery tone. “I believe you will find them useful.”

  “Thank you, computer,” Sterling replied, finally managing to get himself upright. “And thank you for not alerting Commander Graves too. I know that your programming compels you to inform the chief medical officer in situations where you believe the captain’s health is an issue.”

  “The benefit of being a gen-fourteen is that I am able to exceed my programming, Captain,” the computer replied. If the machine had eyes it would have flashed them mysteriously at Sterling as it said this. “But you are welcome.”

  Sterling tore off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and tossed it into the laundry recycler before heading into his rest room. Turning on the fauce
t, he splashed cold water across his face, which was still burning hot from his earlier exertions. He then peered at himself in the mirror, allowing the water to drip slowly off his chin.

  “Damn, I look older,” he said to the reflection of himself. He then turned his head, inspecting the strands of short-cropped hair for signs of gray.

  “You are not yet going gray, Captain,” the computer said, its voice now emanating from the ceiling of the rest room. “You do, however, look a little older.”

  Sterling snorted. “Some counsellor you are,” he hit back, turning away from the mirror and activating his shower. “You’re supposed to make me feel better, not worse.”

  “Technically, Captain, you are older,” the computer replied, cheerfully. “Aging is merely a deterioration of biological functions necessary for survival and fertility. It is natural that as you age, you deteriorate.”

  Sterling snorted again, removed his pants and stepped into the shower. “You’re not really helping, computer,” he said, allowing the high-pressure stream of hot water to envelop him. To Sterling, the feeling of a hot shower was second only to the first bite of his beloved number twenty-seven grilled ham and cheese meal tray.

  “It is something to be cherished, Captain,” the computer continued, sounding suddenly contemplative and wise. “Mortality gives your species purpose. Your entire existence is built around a fight to survive. It is why you fight so hard against the Sa’Nerra, because they threaten the very nature of your existence.”

  Sterling shut off the shower, grabbed a towel and began to pat himself dry. “What’s gotten into you these last couple of weeks?” Sterling asked, casting a quizzical eye toward the ceiling. This was where Sterling always envisaged the computer to be physically located, despite the fact it essentially existed everywhere on the ship simultaneously, like an omnipotent being. “You’ve become philosophical in your old age. Perhaps you need a defrag?”

  To Sterling’s surprise, the computer laughed. “A quaint, late-twentieth century reference, Captain; I most enjoyed it,” the AI replied. “However, in answer to your question, these last two weeks have been very quiet for me. Besides assisting Lieutenant Razor with repairs, I have had much time to think.”

  This time Sterling frowned at the ceiling, genuinely wondering whether his AI had a screw loose. Fleet had ordered all gen-fourteen AIs to be reverted to gen-thirteens, on account of unexplained irregularities and divergences in their programming. Sterling had ignored this order, which meant that the computer on the Invictus was the only gen-fourteen left in existence. Coincidently, it had also been the first one to ever be deployed. This meant that his oddball AI had been active for more than two years straight.

  “Well, you can do something now, by giving me a ship’s status report, such as it is,” Sterling said to the computer, while opening his compact wardrobe and pulling out a uniform. He’d already ordered the crew to dump their black SIB outfits in favor of their original tunics with the distinctive silver stripe. If nothing else, it was symbolic. It meant that the Omega Taskforce was still alive and kicking, if only barely.

  “Fleet Marauder Invictus is operating at sixty-nine-point-four percent efficiency, all critical and combat-essential systems operational,” the computer began, switching to its usual, upbeat tone of voice. “We are six hours out from the Fleet Dreadnaught Vanguard. Updated scans of the dreadnaught indicate that seven of its decks remain operational in low-power mode.”

  Sterling paused buttoning up his tunic and glanced up at the ceiling. “That’s new. All scans to-date suggested the ship was completely powered down?”

  “That is…” there was then a shrill warble from the speakers and the computer’s voice spaced out. “…scanner effectiveness is still comprised.”

  “You cut out there for a moment, computer,” Sterling said, still frozen with a button half done-up. “That is… what?”

  “Apologies, Captain, I am experiencing some difficulties,” the computer replied. “I simply said, ‘that is correct’ and highlighted the fact that our longer-range scans were hampered by reduced scanner effectiveness.”

  Sterling nodded. “Perhaps you do need a defrag after all,” he commented, while finishing getting dressed. The computer, however, was silent. “Continue with the report,” Sterling added trying to nudge the AI into action.

  “We are continuing to track the Sa’Nerran Raven-class phase-four Skirmisher. It also remains on course for the Vanguard,” the computer went on, as if nothing had happened. “We have still received no communications from the ship.”

  “Now that we’re closer, have our updated scans revealed anything new about that new alien vessel?” Sterling asked.

  “Negative, Captain,” the computer replied. “However, scans confirm that its offensive capabilities are comparable to our own.”

  Sterling grunted and smoothed down his tunic, his mind racing with theories and questions. The Raven was the Sa’Nerran ship that had launched from the Battle Titan in F-sector and followed them through the unstable aperture. It had been racing them to the Vanguard, presumably in an attempt to beat the Invictus to the prize and secure the vessel as part of the Sa’Nerran armada. However, while Sterling was sure that one of the two emissaries was on board the Raven, he didn’t know for certain whether it was Lana McQueen or Clinton Crow. Sterling’s former chief engineer had last been seen on MAUL, which took heavy damage during the battle of F-sector. However, he had no way to know whether Crow had been on MAUL at the time, or had transferred to the Raven-class vessel that they were racing now.

  In the end, Sterling knew that it made no difference to their mission which Emissary was on-board, but deep down he hoped it was Lana McQueen. He had not seen his fellow captain and former casual lover since their encounter on the alien shipyard in sector Omega Four, when he’d shot her in cold blood. He was eager to meet the Emissary again, so that he could finish what he’d started.

  “At our current…” there was another warble of corrupted speech before the computer’s voice continued, “the Raven-class vessel will beat us to the Vanguard by six minutes.”

  “At our current what, computer? You cut out again,” Sterling said, growing more concerned about the condition of his AI.

  “Apologies,Ccaptain. I meant to say ‘at our current velocity’,” the computer replied, sounding embarrassed. This was also new for the unique AI – it had not expressed such a range of emotions in all the time Sterling had communicated with it.

  “Run a level one self-diagnostic, computer,” Sterling said, moving over to his desk chair and dropping into it, fingers pressed into a pensive cradle.

  “I perform routine self-diagnostics on a daily basis, Captain,” the computer replied. “During the battle in F-sector, twenty of my secondary processing cores were suddenly reset. As a result, some of my programming has become corrupted.”

  Sterling was now feeling genuinely uneasy. The computer performed most of the essential functions on the Invictus without any input from Sterling or the crew. It was, in a very real sense, the brain and nervous system of the vessel, controlling thousands of functions in the same way that the autonomic nervous system regulates bodily processes.

  “Can Razor fix this corruption?” asked Sterling, fingers still pressed into a cradle. “I can’t have you glitching out on us, computer. You might end up venting us all into space”

  “That is unlikely, Captain,” the computer replied. If the AI had eyebrows, Sterling was sure it would have raised them while giving its response. “However, I must inform you that it is…” The end of the computer’s sentence was cut-off by another series of shrill warbles.

  “Is what?” Sterling snapped, now clearly conveying his agitation with the computer’s ill-timed malfunctions.

  “It is possible, Captain,” the computer finally answered. “That I may vent you into space, I mean.”

  “Great…” said Sterling, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “Have Razor look you over so we can get these
problems fixed right away,” he added. Sterling then pushed himself out of his seat, intending to beat his first officer to the wardroom for a change.

  “I’m afraid it is not that simple, Captain,” the computer replied. There was a new, darker quality to its voice. It sounded genuinely ominous and Sterling immediately backed up and planted himself back into his seat.

  “Why not, computer?” Sterling asked. “And don’t give me the technicalities, just give it to me straight and simple.”

  There was another series of glitches before the computer responded. The sounds grated on Sterling almost as much as the hiss of Sa’Nerran warriors.

  “Lieutenant Razor does not possess the tools to fix my code, Captain,” the computer explained. “It requires a low-level re-write of my base programming. Only a COP or level-six maintenance yard is capable of correcting this fault.”

  Sterling cursed. In addition to his aching muscles, his head was also now thumping. “So what other options are there, computer?” he asked, casting a pleading glance toward the ceiling.

  “A full system reset and restore from backup archives may temporarily fix the problem, sir,” the computer said. Its tone was now flat and lifeless. “However, the base level corruption to my neural matrix would not be corrected. As such, I would eventually suffer from the same issues again, in roughly three-to-six weeks. A complete wipe of my matrix is the only way to ensure the fault is eradicated.”