The Exile: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Omega Taskforce Book 3) Read online

  “I’m a busy man, Marshall, what do you want?” Sterling called up to the man. It was a pointless question, since it was clear what the lawman wanted. However, Sterling was keen to progress their encounter to its conclusion.

  The Marshall laughed but his chest quickly began to spasm and the sound descended into a harsh, throaty cough. Masterson removed the cigar from between his lips and spat a globule of red spittle onto the rooftop beside his leg.

  “What do I want?” the Marshall eventually managed to reply, coughing and laughing at the same time. “I want justice,” he added, calmly. “It’s judgement time, Captain.”

  This time it was Sterling who laughed. “This isn’t your courtroom, Marshall, you have no jurisdiction here,” He pointed over to the Invictus, parked on the landing pad only a hundred meters away. “One word to my ship and a dozen plasma turrets will reduce you and what’s left of your deputies and mercs to ashes.”

  The Marshall shoved the cigar in his mouth then sucked in another lungful of black smoke before allowing it to slowly escape from between his lips. All the while he continued to watch Sterling closely. If the man had a plan for what he intended to do when he caught up with Sterling, he didn’t appear to be following it.

  “I lied to you earlier, Captain, when I said that it didn’t matter that the lawman you killed was my son,” the Marshall said, tapping the cigar against the wall to dislodge the ash. “I think I believed I was merely seeking justice at the time. But the truth of it is that I don’t care about justice. Not in this case.”

  Sterling felt a neural link begin to form as the Marshall was speaking. The presence of Banks, Shade and Razor filled his mind.

  “I have weapons locked on to the Marshall and his deputies, Captain, but the risk of hitting you is high,” Razor said through the link.

  “My commando team is standing by, ready to move out on your order, sir,” Shade added.

  “Understood,” Sterling replied through the link, though he continued to focus on the Marshall. “Lieutenant Razor, get ready to take the shot on my command. The commandoes can then mop up what’s left of them.”

  Both officers replied with brisk acknowledgements. Sterling then focused back in on the Marshall’s voice, leaving the neural link open.

  “The truth is, Captain, that you killed my son, and I can’t let that go,” the Marshall continued, unaware of Sterling’s secret conversation. “I’m sure you’re not bluffing when you say your fancy ship could take me down. But if that happens then my deputies are under orders to kill the other colonists we found waiting just outside the gate.”

  Jana bristled at the mention of her companions and took a step toward the Marshall’s perch. The barrels of multiple pistols and rifles turned toward her as she did so.

  “My people have nothing to do with this,” Jana called up to the Marshall. “Leave then out of it, or you’ll have more than just a pissed off Fleet Captain to deal with.” The woman was not pleading with the Marshall – Jana was angry and sounded like she meant every word she’d said.

  “I’m afraid that since you already buddied up with the Fleet, you made yourself a part of this, missy,” the Marshall hit back. The lawman then returned his attention to Sterling. “I’ll make you a deal, Captain,” he said, popping the cigar back into the corner of his mouth. “You give yourself up to me for judgement, and I let the colonists and the rest of your crew go.”

  Sterling shook his head. “If you’re looking for a noble sacrifice, Marshall, then you clearly don’t know who the hell you’re talking to,” he hit back. “My life, your life, and especially the life of your double-crossing son don’t matter. My mission is bigger than myself and it’s bigger than my ship and my crew.” Sterling pressed his hands to the small of his back and stood tall. “So, if you want a fight Marshall, you’ve got one.”

  The Marshall’s eyes grew wide and wild and he raised his rifle. “Shoot!” the Marshall bellowed, the cigar falling from his mouth and he did so. “Shoot! Kill them all!”

  Sterling had already relayed his order to fire through the neural link before the Marshall had even opened his mouth. Plasma erupted from the turrets on the Invictus, thumping searing blasts of energy into the forest and undergrowth surrounding the base. Screams of agony followed soon after. Sterling grabbed Jana and pulled her down into cover, but not before the Marshall was able to get a shot off. Sterling felt the punch of the plasma blast hit his back, but his body armor protected him from the older-model weapon the Marshall was using. Turning back to the Marshall’s perch, Sterling saw the Invictus’ turrets reduce the front of the building to rubble. The Marshall had managed to scramble clear moments before being pulled down into the collapsing structure. Sterling aimed his pistol then a blast from the Invictus disintegrated the lawman’s left arm like it was kindling in a camp fire. He heard the man scream, then lost sight of the Marshall in the clouds of dust rising from the destroyed buildings. Cursing, he turned his attention to the deputies and mercenaries surrounding the complex. Fires had sprung up all around them, but through the smoke he could see that the Marshall’s remaining forces were fleeing.

  “Lieutenant Shade, take your commandoes and pursue the Marshall and any survivors,” Sterling called out through the neural link. “Eliminate them all. This time, we leave nothing to chance!”

  “Aye, sir, moving out,” Shade replied. Sterling could practically feel the adrenalin surging through his weapons officer's body as she spoke the words in his mind.

  Moments later, Sterling saw Lieutenant Shade and the commandoes rush down the cargo ramp of the Invictus and head toward them. Sterling pushed himself up, quickly checking on Banks, who nodded to signify she was okay. Jana was also moving, though Sterling could see blood matting the hair around the back of her neck. He quickly checked her over, but her injuries were not serious, and seconds later they were both on their feet.

  “Permission to join Lieutenant Shade to pursue those bastards,” said Commander Banks, rising to her full height.

  “Denied, Commander,” replied Sterling, stepping beside his first officer and dusting himself down. “Let her do her job. We need to do ours and get back on-mission.”

  Suddenly, Lieutenant Razor’s voice filled Sterling’s mind from the bridge of the Invictus. “Captain, we have a second ship incoming!” the engineer bellowed. Her voice was so loud inside his head that it was like Razor had shouted the words directly into Sterling’s ear.

  “Why did we not detect it sooner?” Sterling replied, scanning the horizon.

  “Unknown, Captain, but it’s right on top of us,” Razor replied. “What are your orders?”

  The ground beneath their feet shook, then a Fleet Destroyer rose from the valley beneath them, like a phoenix from the ashes. The ship was old and battered, and barely larger than the Invictus, but the glowing tips of its plasma guns were no less threatening because of it.

  “Stay where you are or I will open fire!” a voice bellowed out through an external PA.

  Lieutenant Shade and the commandoes slid to a stop and took up positions, aiming their weapons at the destroyer, but Sterling held up a hand to stop them.

  “Hold your fire,” Sterling called out, directing the command to both Shade and Razor through the open neural link.

  Shade and Razor acknowledged the command then Sterling turned back to the ship and scowled up at the scarred hull. There was something about the aged gen-one destroyer that he found familiar. Then he noticed the chipped and faded letters of the vessel’s name, barely visible on the ship’s belly. It was the Fleet Destroyer Bismarck. It was the mutineer ship commanded by Lieutenant Christopher Fletcher.

  Chapter 11

  Between duty and humanity

  Sterling was still staring into the glowing barrels of the destroyer’s plasma cannons when Jana suddenly leapt out in front of him. The colonist thrust her hands skyward and waved to the vessel like a marshaller on an airport runway. The ventral turret beneath the nose of the old destroyer then swiveled
and pointed down at Jana. Sterling felt his heart leap in his chest and was ready to bundle the colonist out of the line of fire. However, he reasoned that there had to be a motive for the woman’s curious actions and decided to let it play out. Yet at the back of his mind was the worry that the charred and pulverized remains of Jana would soon be splattered across his face.

  “Jana? Is that you?” the voice said over the PA.

  “Yes, of course it’s me!” Jana shouted back. “Get down here, already, I have someone you need to meet!”. The colonist waved her hands madly toward the second landing pad on the base, again as if directing traffic.

  The turret on the destroyer immediately stood down and Sterling saw the glowing tips of its plasma rail guns fade. The veteran ship soared across the sky before dropping down gracefully onto the landing pad beside the Invictus. It was a skillful maneuver that demonstrated an intimate understanding of the old warship’s capabilities. However, if the captain of the destroyer was indeed Christopher Fletcher, as Sterling suspected, the man’s four decades of experience would explain his exceptional skills.

  “It’s okay, this ship is one of the good ones, not like those Marshalls,” said Jana, walking toward the destroyer and indicating to Sterling to follow her.

  “Lieutenant Shade, form a perimeter around the ship,” Sterling said to his weapons officer through the still active neural link. “I don’t want what’s left of Masterson and his cronies trying to sneak back up on us.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Shade replied. She hustled away, directing the commandoes that had abandoned pursuit of the Marshall due to the Bismarck’s sudden arrival.

  “What are the chances that the captain of this ship will also try to kill us?” wondered Banks, walking by Sterling’s side. “We haven’t had much luck with people in the Void so far.”

  Sterling huffed a laugh. He couldn’t argue with Banks’ assessment, yet he also had a good feeling about Jana.

  “A local advocate could be exactly what we’ve been missing,” Sterling replied, peering up at the Fleet Destroyer Bismarck. It may have been old and battle-scarred, but it was still a handsome ship, he mused.

  “Assuming this Jana person actually does vouch for us, and not double-cross us like everyone else,” Banks replied, darkly.

  Sterling snorted. “You’re usually the mildly more optimistic one out of the two of us,” he said, glancing over at his first officer. “What happened?”

  “The Void happened,” Banks replied, still in a dark mood. “This place sucks the optimism out of you like a black hole devours light.”

  “Perhaps, but maybe the universe finally owes us one,” said Sterling, slapping Banks on the back. “Come on, let’s meet our mutinous new friend.”

  The old warship’s cargo ramp was already in the process of lowering as Sterling drew near. If the vessel’s external appearance hadn’t already implied its advanced years, the groans and creaks of the gears and hinges did. Hot plumes of steam were then ejected from vents all around the hull, making the vessel appear to be floating on a cloud. A few moments later a man in scuffed Fleet commando armor that had been rendered obsolete decades ago appeared through the haze. He was tall and walked with the confidence of a righteous crusader. The man’s neatly-trimmed full-face silver beard and isolated, turned up moustache only added to his regal sense of authority.

  “Jana, glad to see you’re okay,” said the man, nodding and smiling at the colonist.

  “Glad to see you’re still looking out for me,” Jana replied, returning a nod and a smile at the warship captain.

  The commander of the destroyer then turned to Sterling and studied him attentively, like a father might scrutinize his daughter’s prom date. However, the expression the older man was wearing suggested he was more curious than was suspicious.

  “So, who are your new friends?” the man asked. The question had been directed at Jana, though the commander’s eyes remained locked onto Sterling’s.

  “This is Captain Sterling and his first officer, Commander Banks,” Jana said. “They’re from Fleet,” the colonist added, making it sound like she’d just uttered a dirty word.

  “Yes, I can see that,” replied the man, who was now studying Sterling’s distinctive uniform. “The silver stripe is a new one to me though. Is there now a fifth fleet or are you something special?” The man smiled. “My guess is that you’re the latter.”

  “Oh, it’s definitely the latter,” Sterling replied, returning a knowing smile to the commander of the destroyer. “Though it will take a little time to explain why,” he added, mysteriously. Sterling then offered his hand to the man. “I presume that you’re Lieutenant Christopher Fletcher?”

  The older man peered down at Sterling’s hand but did not take it. Instead he made a show of slowly folding his arms across his chest, causing his vintage armor to creak and groan like the gears of his ship.

  “If you know who I am then you know that I’m no fan of Fleet,” the man replied. “You’ll also know that Fleet are not a fan of me, either.”

  Sterling withdrew his hand, but refrained from making a similarly defensive gesture. Instead, he simply pressed his hands together at the small of his back.

  “We’re not like the rest of the fleet, Mr. Fletcher,” Sterling said. He had assumed that the man’s earlier response was as close to an admission of his identity as he was going to get.

  “Forgive me Captain, but I find that hard to believe,” Fletcher hit back. “Hundreds of Fleet captains have come and gone in the years I’ve been flying around Middle Star and not one has ever extended a hand of friendship, as you just did. So you’ll forgive me for being a tad suspicious.”

  For the first time since the man had arrived, there was a more aggressive bite to his words. However, Sterling could see that it wasn’t anger directed at him personally, but at the Fleet as an entity.

  “In your position, I’m sure I’d feel the same way,” Sterling replied, truthfully. “If you’d rather we just leave then I’ll be on my way.”

  “Give them a chance, Fletch,” Jana cut in. She had been quietly observing the exchange and appeared to be enjoying how the two men were sparring with words. “They opened the vaults and left me way more than they’ve taken. From the stories you and your mother used to tell me about Fleet, that’s not normal.”

  “Indeed, it’s not,” said Fletcher, smiling over at the colonist. The man sounded more than a little intrigued by Jana’s revelation. “Has Fleet finally developed a conscience about how they treated those they abandoned in the Void?” he wondered, again locking eyes with Sterling.

  “I’m afraid not,” Sterling replied. “In fact, the Sa’Nerra are pushing Fleet further back toward Earth. We’re the only ship out beyond G-sector, and officially we’re not even supposed to be here.”

  This seemed to intrigue Fletcher further, though it was clear he was also confused. “So what are you then? Some kind of humanitarian mission?”

  Banks laughed, drawing a wrathful glower from Fletcher. Sterling held up a hand to draw the older man’s focus back to him.

  “Forgive Commander Banks, she means no disrespect,” Sterling said, glancing across to his first officer.

  It was then he noticed that Banks appeared just as defensive and standoffish at Fletcher did. In fact, she looked ready for a fight.

  “Isn’t that right, Commander?” Sterling added more insistently in an attempt to prompt Banks into practicing a bit of Fleet diplomacy.

  Banks glowered at Sterling then met Fletcher’s eyes. Her powerful arms were still folded across her chest, just as Fletcher’s were.

  “I meant no offence, Lieutenant Fletcher,” Banks finally replied, stressing the older man’s former Fleet rank. “Though I don’t know why you’re so interested in our mission,” she went on, maintaining a passive-aggressive tone. “It seems to me that you stopped caring about Fleet orders a long time ago.”

  Sterling turned his attention back to Fletcher. His prickly first officer had failed the te
st of diplomacy, though he was curious to see how the disgraced former Fleet officer reacted to her accusation.

  “It was just the one order in particular that I took issue with, Commander Banks,” Fletcher hit back, giving as good as he got. “I was proud to serve Fleet and my captain, just as I imagine you are,” Fletcher went on, still with his arms folded. “I bled for the cause, lost more friends than I care to count and sent men and women to their deaths, all in support of the war. I had no issue with any of it. I wanted to beat the Sa’Nerra and kick their assess back where they came from, just as you do.” Fletcher then leant in a little closer to Banks, fixing her with even greater intensity. “Make no mistake, Commander, the part of me that hungers for war has never gone away. It never will.”

  Sterling could see that the older man’s muscles were tensing up as he spoke. The scuffed armor creaked more loudly as Fletcher hugged his arms tighter around his chest. Sterling imagined that it was all the old warrior could do to stop himself from striking out at Banks. The man’s capacity for self-restraint was fortunate, Sterling told himself. Banks was far less likely to hold back.

  “But after all we’d fought and died for, to simply abandon the people of Middle Star to the Sa’Nerra was a crime,” Fletcher went on, the anger now flowing freely through his words. “I stand by what I did, Commander Banks, and I’d do it again, in a heartbeat, despite what it cost me.” The man took a breath, though his eyes did not leave Banks’ for a second. “Pray that you do not ever have to make a choice like I did. Pray that Fleet does not force you to choose between your duty and your humanity.”

  Sterling could see that Banks was burning to respond and to hit back with some truths of her own. His first officer glanced across to him, her eyes imploring Sterling for permission to speak. However, he simply shook his head and Banks reluctantly bit her tongue. It wasn’t that Sterling didn’t sympathize with his first officer’s desire to speak up. He too felt like setting the sermonizing old warrior straight and explaining to him just how wrong the man’s condescending assumptions about them had been. However, to do so would have meant revealing the true nature of their mission. And while he admired the former officer, he didn’t yet trust him.