The Ballad of Omega Brown 3:
Omega and the Sorcerer of Space Station 9
by Tom Vaine
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Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3 |
part 1
The rush and swirl of hyperspace slid past the viewer, the mad electric blue light bathing the cockpit. Omega checked the console controls once more. Nearly there.
“Hoonra,” Omega called, as he keyed on the comm system to the gun turret, “tell me again why we’re doing this.”
“Because it is the right thing to do.” The Karackian’s sibilant baritone vibrated back through his headset. She sounded bored to be saying it again. “The people there will need our help. And because the Confederacy managed to come up with a price that actually caught your attention. Their usual mercenaries will not take this job; regardless of our tab, they will remember the favour.”
“I’m still not sure how useful an IOU from the galaxy’s greatest, most plodding bureaucracy will end up being.”
“Yes, you are. You are just worried about the Hive.”
“Well aren’t you? I mean, the reports about them claim they’ve beaten every organized fleet they’ve fought. The only fights they’ve withdrawn from are the ones they chose to leave alone.”
“Technically, you could say that about nearly everyone.”
“You know what I mean. Nobody understands those machines; where they strike or why. There’s a reason the Confederacy mercs don’t want this job.”
“Then it is lucky for the survivors on that station that we are more honorable than the mercenaries that the Confederacy relies on.” Omega began to question whether or not there would even be any survivors when the proximity alarm started flashing.
“Hope you’re ready to go back there. Dropping out of hyperspace now.”
As Omega moved the controls, the viewer filled suddenly with the immensity of a white-streaked, pinkish gas giant. The station in question was on the far side.
“No sign of any Hive ships yet,” Omega related through the comm. “Heading for cloud cover.” The Buccaneer II brushed into the planet’s atmosphere, pushing down until it could skim just below the upper layer of clouds.
This far up, the turbulence did little to rock the ship. Omega kept his eyes trained for any movement as the Buccaneer accelerated towards the space station in orbit.
It appeared over the horizon seconds later. Omega wasn’t thrilled to see that, at this distance, nothing appeared to be amiss. He checked his scanners, sucking his teeth. “I can’t see anything out there.”
“The Hive has left?” Hoonra sounded hopeful.
“Not a chance.”
The station drew closer, and Omega checked his scanners again. “Looks like some pretty precise work. Most of the structural integrity is intact, but I’m reading severe damage to a number of major systems.” He rubbed his chin. “It’s a bit weird, I can’t get a clear picture of some of the wreckage. I wonder if—”
The Buccaneer’s hailing system gave a choked, static cough, and then went quiet. Omega leaned in. “Hello?” He broadcast, “Is there someone out there looking to say hi?”
There was silence again for a moment, then bursts of static and speech started coming through. Omega patched it to the internal comm.
“Station 9 hailing... all systems... resistan... some kin... amming tool.”
“What was that about?” Hoonra asked.
“You were right about survivors, I guess. Couldn’t get much out of it, but I think he said something about a jamming tool.”
Omega barely finished speaking before laser fire began to batter the Buccaneer’s hull. He cursed, accelerating as he rolled the ship. He checked his scanners once more. They showed nothing new.
“Where the hell are they?”
“I see them,” Hoonra called back, “deep in the cloud cover. They are below us.”
Omega corkscrewed upwards, leaving the clouds behind. His scanners still showed nothing, so he began cycling through the ship’s external video feed. After a few flicks he found what he was looking for.
A dozen or so arrow-shaped fighter craft had emerged from the pink haze. He could see Hoonra’s lasers cutting out towards them, holding the squadron back. The Buccaneer had driven closer to the station, but the element of surprise had been lost. It was time to go.
As Omega reached for the hyperspace controls, the ship’s hailer snapped back on. “This is Station 9. Can you hear us? You’ve made it closer than any other ship. Please respond.”
Omega hesitated, his hand hovering above the console. Hoonra spoke before he could decide. “Aren’t you going to respond?”
“I’d forgotten I was broadcasting that across the ship.”
“Tell them we will be right there.”
“Hoonra, we’re about 20 seconds from being vaporized. We’re done here.”
“Omega,” Omega could hear the wound in Hoonra’s voice, “we said we would help those people.”
Before he could reply, the ship’s hailer buzzed back to life.
“Attention unidentified ship. If you can hear us, head this way. No one else has made it off-system. The Hive technology is—” The words cut out once more.
Omega ignored what Hoonra was saying now. He hurled the Buccaneer back around, surprising the Hive squadron by driving directly into it. Hoonra pegged one as they passed. As the ships dispersed, Omega flew straight for the station. The fighters regrouped quickly and resumed their pursuit but, as the Buccaneer approached Station 9, they broke off, returning to the anonymity of the cloudy giant. Omega leaned back in his chair, expelling his breath.
The station spread out before them, and he could see a likely hangar close by. He hailed them once more. “Thanks for the quick thinking there, Station 9. I’m heading in for a landing at the bay nearest my position right now.”
“Negative,” the signal from the station was much clearer now, “it’s one of our occupied sectors. The Hive controls various parts of this station. What are your intentions here?”
“Well, believe it or not, we’re the rescue team.” There was a moment of silence on the hailer.
“You’d better come inside then,” the voice sounded tired, “sending the coordinates now.”
* * *
Omega had finished checking all of his gear and the power to his rocket boots and was just tuning his helmet to a frequency the station could recognize when Hoonra joined him by the exit ramp. She responded to his greeting with a curt nod.
“Look” — Omega activated the hatch controls and started down the ramp — “there’s no need for the cold shoulder. We made it inside, didn’t we?”
“A happy accident.” Hoonra’s tone felt decidedly frosty.
Around them, the lights in the hangar flickered, struggling to keep the little space illuminated. There was barely room for anything bigger than the Buccaneer in there. The walls were scorched in several places, and Omega was sure he could smell the remains of an electrical fire. As they covered the short distance from the ship to the door, Omega activated his forearm display, scanning the station schematics he’d been provided.
“Hey, I was only thinking about our safety, okay? How are we going to keep ourselves paid and fed, and bouncing around the galaxy if we get eviscerated?”
A step behind him, Hoonra stopped. “If our life’s focus revolves solely around spending and eating,” she began when he’d turned to face her, “then we are as good as destroyed already. You nearly turned us back on our word, Omega. It would have sacrificed our honour.”
“This again, Hoonra. What good is honour if you’re too dead to appreciate it?”
“Better to die with honour than live as a beast.” She crossed her arms.
“Is that what I am to you?”
“No, Omega” — Hoonra’s voice was deep and gentle — “you are my employer and my good friend. I would not judge you by my beliefs, but I will not ignore them for you either. I had hoped, at this point, that I would no longer need to explain to you why doing something for the benefit of another is more than just a chore.” Before Omega could say anything, Hoonra asked, “Do you know where the survivors are hiding?”
“Yeah,” he replied, his neck suddenly flushed. “Yeah, they aren’t far.” Without looking at his bodyguard, he projected the map he’d been considering between them. “We’re here, yes? If we follow the corridor outside and over, past these next two intersections we’ll find them here. First door on the right.
“Two problems. First, Hive drones control parts of the station and, judging from the ambush we had earlier, I’m sure they’ve set up patrols. No easy way for us to get the survivors past them as a group. Second, even if we get everyone back here, we still can’t get off-system.”
Omega deactivated the display. He found he still couldn’t meet Hoonra’s eyes. “I’m beginning to think the Hive only let us land because they’re sure their work here is inevitable. Whatever it is. They’ll blow the whole thing away when they have what they want.”
“Agreed, but there is no point in worrying about that yet.” Hoonra hefted her sword. “The first problem we can handle. You go to the survivors while I create a distraction.”
“Not a chance. Hoonra, I know you’re good, but taking on the Drones alone without anything other than a sword is suicide; I didn’t even take mine off the ship.”
“My weapon is of little import. I am a warrior; I will defeat them with whatever I can use, as honour allows.”
“No.” Omega looked directly at her. “You don’t carry the equipment or firepower. I won’t let... I mean, you aren’t getting killed over this to prove...” The words caught in his throat, and he cleared it. “You find the survivors. I’ll distract the Hive.” He started backing towards the door before she could respond. “Keep your communicator on channel 2, and stay low until you reach them. Once the fireworks start, we’re going to have to move pretty quickly.”
“You do not need to be doing this, Omega.”
Omega shrugged and drew his ray gun. When the hangar door slid open, he pressed himself to the jamb, peering into the hallway to make sure it was clear.
“Yes,” he said to himself, “I do.”
* * *
The doors at the end of the corridor must be heavy indeed, Omega mused. There were no less than three Hive drones working around it. Omega was impressed; he hadn’t thought there would be anything the Confederacy could build that would slow those things down. The station’s defenses certainly hadn’t. Carefully, he slipped around the hallway corner, drawing closer to the Drones. It wouldn’t be enough to just get their attention. Omega needed them to follow.
He took light steps towards them, jogging down the egg-white hallway to the juncture before ducking around that next corner. He’d seen other Drones spread throughout the gridwork of the halls, but all of them had seemed focused on a patrol pathway that led to this place. Whatever the Hive wanted, it must be in that vault.
Provided that he stayed quiet and kept his distance, the Drones had either not noticed him, or simply didn’t consider him a threat. After his performance in orbit, he found he couldn’t really blame them. Still, he suspected their attitude was very quickly about to change.
Omega looked at the ray gun in his hand, and considered briefly if he ought to try initiating things with one of his trademark, smartmouthed quips. Instead, he turned back into the hallway, leveled the beam weapon and fired. The ray gun’s whining beam ripped out, catching one of the drones square in its back. It screamed, its voice grating and metallic, its tripod legs scrambling to try and turn the column of its torso towards the attack.
Omega fired again, severing one of those legs as the creature came around, its body toppling over, damaged, but clearly not fully dismantled. The Drones on either side, meanwhile, had pivoted their bodies above the legs without hindrance. Omega ducked back behind the corner as their cutting beams lanced out, slicing and charring the wall where he had been.
Omega squatted down and rolled out past the edge. He fired again, this time catching one the Drones that now faced him. His weapon melted an agonizing-looking hole through the drone, which sagged somewhat. It fired again, and Omega was obliged to roll back. He was beginning to see how these things had gained their reputation.
“Hoonra,” Omega barked into his wrist comm, “things are getting plenty lively on this end. I’m going to start on my way back to the ship.”
“Noted. I will make my way to the survivors now.” Omega keyed off the comm and edged his way back to the corner for a look at his targets.
He didn’t have far to search. His conversation had only lasted a few seconds, but in that time the uninjured drone and its now stumbling partner had moved in on him. As he turned to the corner, Omega was gripped by the wrist and jacket, hauled bodily from the floor by vise-like robot appendages. He yelled, kicking as the drone positioned him in front of its cutting laser.
Omega shot first, wildly, his beam tearing through the cutting laser and one of the robot arms. He was dangling suddenly by the Drone’s other appendage and his next shot went wide, catching the already injured Drone in its torso, the beam scraping upwards into the cyclopean red lens that was its eye. The drone let out another of those awful grinding cries before toppling over.
Omega’s elation at its defeat was erased by sudden pain. The Drone that held him had electrified its arm, shocking him as he dangled. Omega’s headset began to stutter, and he felt himself start swinging outwards as the Drone swiveled its body. After a few turns it let go, and Omega sailed across the hallway intersection to crash fully against the far wall. He slumped to the floor, unmoving.
The Drone followed after him, like an organic predator toying with its prey. It extended one of its lower arms, turning Omega upright. It didn’t occur to him until much later that this bit of luck had saved his life. Disoriented and semiconscious, Omega fired with his now freed hand. The beam sliced upwards, hitting the Drone near its base, churning through its body and most of its circuitry. This Drone made no sound as it died, instead slumping forward to rest against the wall above Omega as its systems gave out.
Omega lay there bewildered for a few seconds before he could clamber out from underneath the mechanical corpse. His headset was still flickering spastically, but he didn’t need its display to hear the fresh Drones scuttling down the corridors in his direction. With a quick glance at the vault door for orientation, Omega worked his feet, stumbling down the hallway to the ship.
* * *
Copyright © 2021 by Tom Vaine
