Void Recon: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Omega Taskforce Book 2) Read online

  Void Recon

  Omega Taskforce: Book Two

  G J Ogden

  Contents

  More by G J Ogden

  Chapter 1

  We stand with the emissaries

  Chapter 2

  A race against time

  Chapter 3

  Alight at the next stop

  Chapter 4

  Special investigations branch

  Chapter 5

  Suspicion and fear

  Chapter 6

  A rude awakening

  Chapter 7

  An old friend returns

  Chapter 8

  Leaving the gate open

  Chapter 9

  A strange knock at the door

  Chapter 10

  Star system Omega Four

  Chapter 11

  Worrying is for admirals

  Chapter 12

  The Oasis Colony

  Chapter 13

  The mystery of Fardepp-Neyn

  Chapter 14

  There are always twelve

  Chapter 15

  A game of hide and seek

  Chapter 16

  A Graves decision

  Chapter 17

  Knowledge is a dangerous thing

  Chapter 18

  Unwanted guests

  Chapter 19

  Slaying a goliath

  Chapter 20

  Upper body strength

  Chapter 21

  People are like music

  Chapter 22

  The ambassador ship

  Chapter 23

  Fleet Gatekeeper Halberd

  Chapter 24

  A table for two

  Chapter 25

  An alternative route

  Chapter 26

  The east viewing gallery

  Chapter 27

  The west viewing gallery

  Chapter 28

  Sting in the wasp’s tail

  Chapter 29

  Emissary of the Sa’Nerra

  Chapter 30

  An order and a directive

  Chapter 31

  The battle for G-sector

  Chapter 32

  An unexpected ceremony

  Chapter 33

  Captain Vernon Wessel

  Chapter 34

  Unofficial orders are orders

  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

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  Chapter 1

  We stand with the emissaries

  Captain Lucas Sterling boarded the tram carriage and waited for Commander Mercedes Banks to follow him in. Already the eyes of people in the carriage, both civilian and members of Fleet, had turned to him. This wasn’t the first time the unique silver stripe on his uniform had garnered suspicious glances, especially not on F-COP. However, after the broadcast by the Sa’Nerran Emissaries – otherwise known as 'turned' Omega Captain, Lana McQueen and Sterling’s own chief engineer, Clinton Crow – people were even twitchier than usual. The emissaries’ TV broadcast had been aired only six hours earlier yet already the impact of it was being felt through the Fleet and beyond. The revelation that senior Fleet officers had joined the Sa’Nerran cause was shocking enough in itself. This was despite the general population remaining unaware of the alien species’ new and more advanced neural control technology. On top of this, Emissary McQueen had dropped the bombshell about the Omega Taskforce. Cleverly, Sterling had thought, she hadn’t given too much away, and only hinted at the unconscionable mission of the secret force. However, it had proven just enough to shock, prompt outrage and see demands for an explanation levied at the offices of every senior government official in the galaxy.

  Sterling replayed the broadcast in his mind as Commander Banks stepped alongside him in the carriage and grabbed the handrail with her super-human grip. The doors then closed and the tram accelerated away from the station so quickly that in his distracted state-of-mind Sterling’s own grip almost slipped.

  “But be warned. The Sa’Nerran desire for war is not the only lie Fleet has been telling you,” Sterling recalled McQueen saying during her broadcast. “Ask them about the Omega Directive. Ask them why Fleet ships are sent to hunt and kill our own people. Once you know the truth, I am confident that you too will join with me in fighting for peace.”

  Sterling huffed a laugh and shook his head. Fighting for peace… he thought, picturing his fellow Omega Captain in her new Sa’Nerran armor. At the time, he hadn’t given a second thought to the specific wording of McQueen’s broadcast, but now he suspected it had a deeper meaning. McQueen had not said “pursuing peace” or “seeking peace”, but “fighting for peace”. It was a call to arms and a deliberate attempt to sow dissention, not only amongst the ranks of Fleet, but amongst the general population too.

  Despite efforts by the United Governments and Fleet to block rebroadcasts of the emissaries’ statement, billions of people had already watched it and heard McQueen’s words. Eventually, the whole of humanity would see it. There was no stopping data once it was out in the open; even the vastness of space could not prevent information spreading like a virus. As such, the UG had been forced to spin the broadcast as a hoax and a prank, ironically using manipulated images and faked “back stage” footage to show how the emissaries’ video had been made in a studio. Even so, people loved a good conspiracy theory, and Sterling could already tell that the message had struck a chord with a significant number of people. Humanity was tired of war, Sterling thought, as the tram hurtled on through F-COP. Despite the fact the battles and the killing had occurred light years from Earth, the phenomenal level of military spend had caused hardship and resentment amongst the populations of Earth and
the colonies. Then there was the troublesome necessity of conscription. More than seventy percent of Fleet military personal had been drafted, which only led to more bitterness.

  Suddenly, Sterling’s thoughts were interrupted by the formation of a neural link. It was a familiar sensation and he allowed it to take hold.

  “What’s on your mind?” asked Commander Banks over their newly-established private neural link. She was regarding Sterling with a quizzical eye.

  “Well, now that you’ve popped into my head, you’re on my mind, Mercedes. Literally,” replied Sterling, also answering through the neural connection. He then caught the eyes of a civilian on one of the seats opposite, and the woman quickly averted her gaze and pretended to read an advertisement on the wall of the carriage.

  “You’re thinking about McQueen and Crow, aren’t you?” Banks continued, undeterred by Sterling’s non-answer to her question.

  “I’m thinking about strangling them, if that’s what you mean,” replied Sterling, intentionally meeting the eyes of another passenger, who also quickly looked away.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find them,” said Banks, confidently. She then waved and smiled at a junior lieutenant who had been watching them out of the corner of his eye. The young officer went as white as sheet and buried his chin to his chest. “This crap about them being emissaries won’t stick. No-one will believe it,” Banks added, returning her eyes to Sterling.

  “I think many people have already believed it,” Sterling replied, meeting Banks’ eyes, “and over time, as the war creeps closer to Earth, the fear and suspicion of the people will only grow stronger.”

  Banks shrugged, but didn’t argue. She was often more optimistic than Sterling was, but like himself his first officer was a realist at heart. Omega officers didn’t kid themselves into believing everything was going to be okay. The only way you made something right was to do what needed to be done, no matter the cost.

  “Let’s just hope McQueen doesn’t publicly out the Void Recon Unit, revealing who we truly are,” said Banks. “If people don’t like us now, they’ll be baying for blood once they learn what we’ve really been doing out in space.”

  Sterling nodded and sighed then watched one of the tram platforms flash past outside the window.

  “Our new emissaries know that it’s better if people discover the truth for themselves,” Sterling said, trying to come up with a compelling reason why McQueen had not revealed all her secrets straight away. “What she’s done is planted a seed of doubt, both in the mind of the public and the rest of Fleet. The admiralty and senior officials are more likely to believe it if their own investigations reveal the truth.”

  Banks nodded. “Then we’ve only got a limited time to find McQueen and Crow and end this,” she said, firmly.

  “I’m sure that’s why Admiral Griffin called us back to F-COP,” Sterling said, glancing up at the tram map and noting that their station was next. He hit the button to call for the tram to stop then turned back to Banks. “This is where we get off,” he continued, still speaking to Banks through their neural link. He then glanced up at the tram map and noticed that they were approaching the station far more rapidly than usual. “Assuming the damn tram actually stops, anyway.”

  Banks also frowned up at the tram map before spinning around and hammering the stop button several times in quick succession. Owing to her abnormal strength, the button almost caved in under the pressure. However, instead of stopping, the tram simply raced past their station at full speed. Sterling felt his gut tighten and his mouth go dry.

  “That’s not supposed to happen,” Sterling said, this time speaking out loud. Others in the carriage who had also been intending to depart at the station that had just flashed past looked uneasy. Nervous chatter filled the carriage, but it was becoming increasingly hard to hear anything over the rumble of the tram as it raced along its track.

  “We’re accelerating,” said Banks, the concern evident in her voice. Her grip on the handrail had tightened so much that the metal had begun to warp out of shape. She then swung across to the control panel by the door and hit the emergency stop button. However, like the regular call button, pressing it had no effect. “Nothing is working,” Banks said, turning back to Sterling. “See if you can reach the controller.”

  Sterling tapped his neural interface and tried to reach the tram control room. The trams themselves were automated, but manual control was still possible from the control room, or from the engine carriage directly.

  “Tram control, this is Captain Lucas Sterling,” Sterling began, feeling the connection take hold. “We have a situation. Please respond.”

  There was a momentary delay then a polite female voice filled Sterling’s mind. “This is tram control. Please stand by, we’re receiving a high-volume of incoming links,” replied the woman.

  “They’re asking me to stand by…” Sterling said out loud to Banks, shaking his head. Banks answered with an eye-roll. Sterling then peered up at the serial number of the carriage above the door. “Look, I’m in tram carriage juliet-golf-one-four-seven, command level four. The damn thing isn’t stopping. Care to explain why?” Sterling waited for a response, but the operator had already severed their link. Sterling cursed. “She cut me off,” he said to Banks, throwing his arms out wide.

  The other passengers in the tram carriage were now growing increasingly flustered and scared. Some of the Fleet officers were trying to keep people calm, assuring the passengers that it was just a glitch and that everything would be sorted out soon. Sterling, however, wasn’t so hopeful. The intercom in the carriage then clicked on and a male voice bellowed out of the speakers. From the first words spoken, Sterling knew his hunch had been correct.

  “We stand with the emissaries!” the voice roared, as if giving a rousing speech to a political rally. “Fleet have lied to us all. We must fight back and make the United Governments listen!” Panic immediately gripped the cabin, but Sterling filtered out the screams and focused on the sound coming out of the speakers. “Your leaders will continue to lie unless we make them listen.” The man then shouted, “for Sa’Nerra!” at the top of his voice, though the rallying cry was barely audible over the rising clamor of screaming passengers.

  Sterling glanced up at the tram map again. They’d shot past another station and the carriage still seemed to be gaining speed. He cursed again then glanced across to Banks, though he didn’t need to make a neural link to his first officer to know that she was thinking the same as he was. The man in control of the tram had been turned, and he intended to crash it, killing everyone on board.

  Chapter 2

  A race against time

  Sterling tried to push his way through the crowded tram carriage, but his uniform and rank meant that he was swamped by passengers pleading for his help. Sterling answered as calmly as possibly, lying to everyone that it was going to be okay in an attempt to get them out of his path. However, frightened faces continued to block his route toward the engine car, each one demanding answers and reassurances he could not give. The truth was that unless Sterling acted quickly, no-one was going to be okay.

  “Damn it, we need to get to the engine car as soon as possible,” said Sterling, speaking to Banks through their neural link. “If the control room haven’t been able to stop this tram remotely then our only chance is to regain control from whoever has hijacked it and stop it ourselves.”

  Banks pushed through the crowd and squeezed past Sterling so that she could get out in front.

  “Everyone, step back and let us though!” Banks yelled to the crowd, but as with Sterling the passengers simply mobbed her too. The difference was that Banks was not so easily pushed around. “Get back! Let us pass!” she called again, this time using her immense strength to literally brush the crowds aside. Eventually, the people in the carriage took the hint and stopped standing in her way, though the onslaught of questions and panicked demands for answers continued.

  Sterling slipstreamed behind Banks to the
door leading into the next carriage then turned back, scanning the crowd for other Fleet uniforms. Sterling then saw the nervous junior lieutenant who had eyeballed him after he’d boarded the tram. The young officer was trying and failing to keep the crowd calm. Sterling pressed his fingers into his mouth and released a shrill wolf whistle that cut through the clamor like a samurai sword through butter.

  “Everyone, sit down and stay calm!” Sterling roared, suddenly gaining the rapt attention of the carriage. He then pointed to the junior lieutenant, who looked back at Sterling as if he’d just been singled out for execution. “Just follow the lieutenant’s instructions and everything will be fine,” he added, this time requiring far less volume in order to be heard.

  Sterling turned to leave again, noting that his whistle and announcement had also grabbed the attention of the occupants of the carriage he was about to move into.

  “What are you going to do?” a timid voice called out from the crowd.

  Sterling searched the sea of faces in the carriage and found the eyes of the questioner. It was a middle-aged woman, who looked like she was a member of F-COP’s medical staff.

  “I’m going to stop the tram,” said Sterling, plainly. “I’m also going to kill the Sa’Nerran sympathizer who took control of it, along with anyone who stands with them, or stands in my way.”