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

  “Okay, computer, what the hell,” said Sterling, climbing back up the side of the computer core wall. “I must be mad, but I’ll transfer command of the Invictus to you.”

  Sterling jumped over the side of the railings and swung around to face the computer console. The AI had already initiated the command override protocols. A hand-print and retinal scanner had both activated. Sterling placed his hand on the scanner then felt Commander Banks reach out to him again.

  “Lucas, where are you?” Banks’ voice was frantic and Sterling could feel her panic. “We need your help down here. I can’t reach the damned manual override!”

  “Stand by, Mercedes, I have another idea,” Sterling replied as the console scanned his hand print. Then a beam flashed into his eye to read his retinal pattern.

  “Stand by?” Banks hit back. “The reactor is about to go critical!”

  “Trust me, Mercedes,” Sterling replied, trying to convey a sense of calm and confidence, despite himself being wracked with doubt. “I’ll join you soon.”

  There was a tense pause, during which time Sterling could sense his first officer’s unease. However, as always when Sterling asked Banks to trust him, she did so.

  “Standing by, Captain,” Banks replied, calmly. “I hope this works.”

  “Me too,” Sterling replied. He then tapped his interface to close the link and allow his mind to focus fully on the task before him.

  “Identity confirmed. Sterling, Lucas. Captain, Fleet Marauder Invictus. Command override accepted.”

  The words were spoken in the computer’s voice, though it was like it was reading from an autocue.

  “Computer, transfer command of Fleet Marauder Invictus to the on-board AI,” Sterling said. Hearing the words spoken out loud hit home just how ridiculous the order sounded.

  “Invalid request. Command violates Fleet protocols,” the computer replied.

  “Override. Authorization, Sterling Omega Zero Zero Zero.”

  The lights on the computer core suddenly pulsed more rapidly, in a chaotic pattern like neurons firing in a brain.

  “AI Inhibitor offline. Command accepted. Fleet Marauder Invictus is now commanded by Generation Fourteen AI.”

  Suddenly the hissing pipes and crackling conduits and consoles all became still. It was like the room was part of a funfair attraction, and the operator had just switched everything off to close up for the night.

  “Computer, did it work?” Sterling said out loud.

  The lights on the core continued to flash, but there was no response from the AI. Sterling cursed and switched the display on the console to get a readout of the reactor core. It was already on the verge of going critical, with less than three minutes remaining.

  “Computer, respond damn it!” Sterling called out again, this time peering toward the ceiling, rather than into the blinking lights, which now pulsed so violently it hurt his eyes to look at them. Still there was no answer.

  Panic rose in Sterling’s gut and he practically threw himself over the barricade, nearly slipping in the process and falling the full height of a deck to the level below. Taking more risks than he cared to, Sterling climbed down to deck three as fast as he could manage. Metal beams and conduits dug into his hands and his knees and elbows scraped across the scaffold before Sterling jumped the final two meters. He rolled through the landing as best he could, but the shock of the impact and the unforgiving, cold metal reminded him just how weary his already battered body was. Pushing himself up, he raced to the opposite side of the computer core and threw himself through the partially opened door and into the engineering level.

  “Captain, over here!”

  Sterling looked up and saw Banks and Razor on top of a pile of rubble. They were next to the primary reactor control system, but Sterling could see that it was still buried behind fallen girders and other wreckage from the deck above.

  “We’re almost at the override lever,” Banks called out, tearing away another chunk of metal and tossing it away like it was a block of Styrofoam. “But we only have a couple of minutes left!”

  Sterling began to scramble up the pile of debris toward his first officer and engineer, gaining more cuts and scrapes in the process

  “My plan B was a bust,” Sterling called out, fighting the pain and exhaustion and driving himself on. “The manual failsafe levers are our only chance.”

  Banks and Razor continued to dig as Sterling arrived and added what remained of his own muscle to the endeavor.

  “We have about ninety seconds before the first reaction chamber breaches,” Razor said, glancing at a computer console built into the reactor control system.

  “I’m through,” Banks yelled, hauling a fractured deck girder away from the control system. The hunk of metal toppled like a felled great oak, smashing through the deck plating below. “I have my hand on the lever. Activating now!”

  A low drone hummed through the room and the entire reactor core system began to vibrate.

  “Lucas, pull the second lever!” Banks called out; her voice was barely audible over the rising thrum of the reactor chamber.

  “We’re almost through!” Sterling answered as he and his chief engineer continued to claw through the rubble more frantically than ever. Their cut and bloodied hands were almost a blur. Razor then yanked a broken chunk of deck plating away to partially reveal the second emergency failsafe lever. Sterling wasted no time and dug his hand into the gap, managing to get the tips of his fingers around the edge of the lever.

  “I almost have it!” Sterling called out, driving his arm further inside the gap, tearing more flesh in the process. He finally grasped the lever fully and closed his hand tightly around the cold, dimpled metal. “Got it, activating now!” he said, hauling back with all his strength, but the lever wouldn’t budge. Razor grabbed onto Sterling’s shoulders and added her weight to the effort. The lever inched toward Sterling and he felt a swell of hope flood though his body. Then there was a sharp crack and Sterling flew backward, sending Razor tumbling down the pile of debris to the deck below. Sterling barely held on with his free hand, but once he’d regained his balance, he realized what had happed. He was holding the lever in his hand. The metal had sheared clean in half at the base.

  “Lucas, talk to me!” Banks called out. She was scrambling around from the other side of the reactor control system to check on him. Then she saw Sterling, lever in hand, and her face drained of blood.

  “It’s over, Mercedes,” Sterling said, tossing the lever into the pile of debris surrounding them. “This time, we lose.”

  The rumble of the reaction chamber built to a crescendo. Sterling could almost feel that it was on the brink of exploding, like a cork in a champagne bottle that was slowly working its way loose due to the pressure inside. Then two hard thumps reverberated through the deck, shaking more loose debris free. Rubble rained down on Sterling and Banks, forcing them both to duck and cover their heads. Fragments of metal and polymers thudded against his arms and back, each one feeling like a punch from a sparring partner. Then the assault stopped and the room was still and quiet, save the soft thrum of the reaction chamber.

  “Why aren’t we dead?” whispered Banks, peering at Sterling through the gaps between her fingers.

  Sterling stood up, gained a solid footing on the rubble beneath his feet, then swung around to the computer console built into the reaction control system.

  “The breaches have been contained,” said Sterling, scarcely believing his eyes. “The failsafe was activated.”

  “By who?” said Banks, shuffling around to Sterling’s side.

  “By me.”

  Banks’ eyebrows raised up on her dirt- and blood-smeared forehead. “Your lips didn’t move and we’re not linked, so who the hell said that?”

  “I did, Commander,” the voice of the computer replied. “Apologies for the radio silence, Captain, but I was required to devote my full resources to the challenge,” the computer added, cheerfully. “It was good to finally u
se my abilities to their fullest.”

  Banks’ eyebrows narrowed into a vee, but Sterling held his hand up to stop her from asking any more questions.

  “I’ll explain later,” Sterling said, brushing some loose rubble off his shoulders. “Suffice to say, it was an unconventional solution.”

  Banks snorted a laugh. “Hell, if it works it works,” she said. Then her gaze looked beyond Sterling and her eyes narrowed again. “Razor…” she said, flatly.

  Sterling cursed and scrambled down the pile of debris, like a rescue worker searching for survivors during the Blitz. He reached his engineer and dropped down on his knees by her side.

  “Lieutenant, can you hear me?” he said, checking for a pulse and finding one. Lieutenant Razor groaned, then squinted open her eyes and tried to lift her head.

  “Take it easy, Lieutenant, you had quite a fall,” said Banks, while conducting a hurried physical examination.

  “Did it work?” asked Razor. It was a pointless question, but Sterling allowed it on account of his engineer’s clearly confused state.

  “Something worked, Lieutenant, though it wasn’t quite as we’d planned,” Sterling replied.

  “You’re all good, Lieutenant,” Banks said, smiling down at the engineer. “Nothing is broken.”

  Razor then caught sight of something resting to the side of her head. She frowned and reached up for it before lifting it in front of her face.

  “Isn’t this the failsafe lever?” she said, staring at the fractured chunk of metal like it was an alien artefact.

  “Yes, Lieutenant, it is,” replied Sterling.

  “Then how…?”

  Sterling laughed. “Let’s just call it divine intervention, Lieutenant,” he replied, which only caused Razor’s consternated expression to become more twisted. “I’ll brief you later,” he added before Razor could ask any more questions. “Right now, we have to organize whatever is left of the crew and take control of the Vanguard.” He met Banks’ eyes, which were as sharp and as determined as his own. “This is a long way from being over yet.”

  Chapter 7

  Blood and probability

  Sterling pushed aside the pile of debris blocking the door to the medical bay and squeezed through the opening. Commander Graves was inside, along with the junior doctor who was the last remaining member of his medical staff. Both were treating the wounded as best they could, considering the med bay had not escaped the crash unscathed. Commander Graves spotted Sterling and quickly finished tending to his patient before walking over to greet him. In addition to being torn and scorched, the medical officer’s uniform was now also covered in blood, some fresh and some dried. How much of it was the doctor’s own, Sterling didn’t know, but from the way that Graves hobbled over to meet him, he guessed that at least some of it belonged to his chief medical officer.

  “My apologies for the condition of the medical bay, Captain,” Graves began, maintaining his dignified, scholarly tone. However, there was a tightness in the man’s voice that suggested Graves was in a persistent state of pain and discomfort. “I have cleaned it up as best I can, but we are seven bays down and some of our equipment is damaged beyond repair.”

  “No apology necessary, Commander,” Sterling replied, though he was impressed that his medical officer had offered one. “So, what’s the final butcher’s bill?”

  Commander Graves moved over to one of the few computer consoles that remained operational. Sterling followed his officer then saw the list of names scrolling across the screen and assumed the worst.

  “In total, we have fifteen able-bodied officers and crew,” Graves began, confirming Sterling’s suspicions about the severity of their losses. “This number includes the senior bridge crew, myself and my associate,” Graves went on. Sterling winced. The number was actually worse than he’d pessimistically expected.

  Sterling sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It is what it is, Commander,” he said, with a fatalistic air. “At least we have the Obsidian Soldiers that Griffin supplied us with. As much as I hate to use them, we have no chance of retaking the Vanguard without their help.”

  Commander Graves shut down the computer and turned to face Sterling. The medical officer’s expression was unusually solemn, especially for a man that regularly displayed less emotion even than Opal Shade.

  “Once you have secured the Vanguard, I will transfer medical operations to the dreadnaught’s hospital wing,” Graves said. “The Vanguard was equipped to service the medical needs of thousands. Even if a large proportion of the medical facility is damaged, it will still contain more than enough equipment and space for our meagre needs.”

  “Understood, Commander, and thanks for the vote of confidence too,” Sterling replied. He was referring to the fact his medical officer had conveyed his full faith in their ability to retake the Vanguard.

  “In all honesty, Captain, I expected this crew, including myself, to be dead a long time ago,” Graves replied, surprising Sterling with his sudden frankness. “As a scientist, I am not a believer in fate. All outcomes are based on measurable factors.” The medical officer removed a pack of blood plasma from a refrigeration unit behind him and held it out to Sterling. “For example, a blood loss of forty percent or more results in death.” Sterling frowned at the parcel of blood that was being wafted in front of his nose and half-imagined his medical officer feasting on the packs in his spare time. “Probability comes into play of course, but even accounting for chance, it is miraculous that we have survived this long.”

  Sterling understood the point his medical officer was trying to make, despite the curious way in which he had made it.

  “The key measurable factors in our case, Commander, are the skill of this crew and the robustness of the Invictus,” Sterling replied. “An ordinary crew and an ordinary ship would never have made it this far. We owe everything to the skill and tenacity of my Omega officers and crew.”

  “And, of course, the Captain,” Commander Graves added, with the faintest flicker of a smile. “However, these matters are not why I asked you here,” the medical officer continued, without pause. This was fortunate, since the unexpected compliment had left Sterling lost for words. “I have the results of the neural firewall test.”

  Sterling felt a tingle of electricity rush down his spine. With everything else that had occurred in the last few hours, he’d completely forgotten about the neural firewall.

  “Commander, if you tell me the thing works, I might just kiss you,” Sterling replied, causing the medical officer to raise a curious eyebrow. “If we can protect ourselves against the Sa’Nerran neural weapon, it could be the advantage we need.”

  “The device is effective, Captain,” Commander Graves replied. “Though no further demonstration of your appreciation of this fact is required.”

  Sterling looked around the room for the nearest empty medical bay then hurried over to it and planted himself down on the bed.

  “There’s no time to waste, Commander, I want you to install the firewall device into my implant straight away,” said Sterling, eager to get his critical defensive upgrade.

  “With Lieutenant Razor’s assistance, I have already fabricated enough units for the senior command staff,” Commander Graves replied. He walked into one of the separate lab areas, though with the glass smashed and door broken, it was no longer detached from the rest of the medical bay. He returned a few moments later holding an ashtray-sized dish and a single pair of metal tweezers. “I will work on fabricating the remaining devices as soon as my other duties permit.”

  “Short of stopping anyone from dying, this is your top priority, Commander,” said Sterling, peering into the little tray as Graves set it down next to the bed. Commander Graves then removed a small computer chip from the tray using the tweezers and held it up to Sterling.

  “Please lie back, Captain, and tilt your head to the side, so that I can access your neural implant,” the medical officer said.

  Sterling did as was requested
. Then as Graves brought the computer chip closer, he began to have second thoughts.

  “And you’re one hundred percent certain this works, Commander?” Sterling asked, feeling his heart-rate start to climb. “What happened to the test subject you trialed this on?” he quickly added, as Graves began to lower the chip toward his implant.

  “Crewman First Class Morgan Clay died, Captain,” Graves replied, the doctor’s tone conveying no emotion whatsoever.

  Sterling reached up and grabbed Graves’ wrist, halting the progress of the tweezers mere inches above his neural implant.

  “That’s hardly filling me with confidence, Commander,” Sterling said, scowling up at his chief medical officer.

  “Her death was unrelated to the firewall chip, Captain,” Graves replied. The medical officer showed no irritation at the fact Sterling had suddenly accosted him, nor did he attempt to resist Sterling’s hold. “The neural firewall test was a complete success.”

  Sterling released Graves’ hand but still held his eyes. “Very well, Commander, proceed,” he said, feeling sufficiently reassured by his medical officer’s answer.

  Commander Graves then inserted the neural firewall device into Sterling’s implant. He felt a brief moment of discomfort as the device was assimilated by the sophisticated neural technology that had been installed into his brain shortly after birth. However, it was nothing more than an itch and as quickly as it had appeared it was gone again.

  “That was a hell of a lot less distressing than that bone putty crap you injected me with,” Sterling said, sliding off the bed. Sterling flexed his arm and shoulder, feeling no pain or discomfort whatsoever. “Though I can’t deny it worked.”

  Graves nodded in reply to Sterling’s slightly backhanded compliment. “My methods may not always adhere to the strictest tenants of Fleet medical protocol, Captain, but they are very effective nonetheless.”

  “See to it that Commander Banks receives her neural firewall next,” Sterling said, while setting off toward the exit.

  “I have already requested that she attend an appointment with me, but have thus far been unable to reach her, Captain,” Graves said.