by G J Ogden
“If it comes to it, Mercedes, and you get turned, then you need to know that I will kill you,” said Sterling, with the cold, factual delivery of an Omega Captain. “And if it comes to it, I need you to do the same to me.”
Banks eyes narrowed. “It won’t come to that, Lucas,” she said, her muscles becoming tauter. Sterling could see a glimmer of the wild Mercedes Banks in her eyes. The Mercedes Banks that could lose control.
“But if it does. Swear to me you’ll do it,” said Sterling, still with his hand outstretched.
Bank clasped her hand around Sterling’s, gripping so tightly that he heard his knuckles crack.
“If it comes to it, I swear I will kill you, rather than let you be turned,” said Banks.
The tone of her voice was firm and unwavering. Sterling knew in his bones that she meant what she had said. He nodded and tightened his own grip on Banks’ hand, though it felt like squeezing a block of solid metal.
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” Sterling said, releasing Banks’ hand. “Now, let’s go and see the Admiral. We have work to do.”
Commander Mercedes Banks stepped alongside Captain Lucas Sterling and together they left the wardroom of the Fleet Marauder Invictus. Like them, the ship had been through a war. And like them, it had not escaped without scars. The Omega Taskforce may have been reduced to one, and Sterling knew that McQueen’s statement would only make it harder for them to operate. Yet, he was undeterred. His ship and his crew had proven themselves in battle. They’d do so again. The war was about to take a sharp turn for the worse, but Sterling was unafraid. Desperate times called for desperate measures. The rest of the Fleet may not like who they were and what they stood for, but they didn’t have to. Sterling and the crew of the Fleet Marauder Invictus would take the fight to the enemy, in ways the others could not. And maybe – just maybe – that would be enough to tip the balance back in their favor. It had to be, because if they failed, the war was lost. And Captain Lucas Sterling didn’t like to lose.
The end (to be continued).
Book 2: Void Recon
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 investigati
ons 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.”
The woman’s eyes widened, as did those of most of the other people in the carriage. However, Sterling’s blunt statement had the desired effect of silencing any further questions. It also meant that when he next tried to step through the crowds, no-one got in his way.
“There are three or maybe four more passenger carriages before we reach the engine car,” said Banks as she advanced along the corridor between the rows of seats.
“This thing is running out of control,” said Sterling, stumbling and falling on top of a seated passenger, who screamed and frantically pushed him back to his feet. The tram was moving so fast that both he and Banks were being buffeted from side to side as they walked, making progress slower than Sterling would have liked. He cast his eyes up to a nearby tram map and saw that they’d raced past another two stations in the time it had taken to advance through a single carriage.
“What the hell is their plan?” asked Sterling, stumbling again and using the shoulder of a seated passenger for support. “In theory this tram could circle F-COP indefinitely without hitting anything.” Sterling pushed off from the passenger and clawed himself on. “There is no ‘end of the line’. There’s nothing they can crash this thing into.”
Banks reached the door at the end of the second carriage and grabbed the handle. “My gues
s is that he’s going to keep accelerating until we eventually fly off the mag rail,” she said, yanking the door open. The passengers in the next carriage immediately raced toward them, shouting the same questions that Sterling had already answered two carriages earlier.
“There has to be more to it than that,” said Sterling as Banks yelled at the crowd to sit down, muscling any that refused to get out of her way back into their seats. Then Sterling had a thought and cursed. “They’re going to crash us into the rear of the other tram running in this section,” he said, suddenly realizing that the danger was far more present than he had thought.
“That’s one hell of a way to make a statement,” said Banks. She paused and glanced back at Sterling, a scowl lining her forehead. “But how does crashing a tram make the Sa’Nerra seem like the peaceful party in all this?”
“McQueen said ‘fight for peace’,” Sterling answered, remembering his fellow Omega Captain’s speech, though in reality it had never been far from his thoughts. “There’s already public outcry about McQueen’s broadcast, but the UG can easily brush it off and talk it away. They can’t ignore this.”
A man in business attire shot up and blocked Sterling’s path.
“Captain, I am a united governments official and I demand an explanation!” the man began, his face flushing red with anger. “Tram control is not responding. The situation is out of hand!”
Sterling met the man’s irate eyes. “Sir, you need to step aside and let me handle this,” said Sterling, summoning all of his remaining patience to deal with the man calmly.
“That’s not good enough,” the man blurted, splashing spittle into Sterling’s face as he did so. “I demand that you explain what is going on.”
