Nemesis (First Colony Book 2)

by Ken Lozito

  Noah’s face twisted into a confused frown, but he remained quiet.

  “Tactical, I want a firing solution on the main attack group,” Colonel Douglass said.

  “Sir, the intermittent returns on PRADIS will make precise targeting a problem,” Captain Thorne replied.

  “Understood. Ready the HADES IV-Bs. I want them in the tubes, ready to go,” Colonel Douglass said.

  Since Noah wasn’t assigned to a particular workstation, he went to the colonel’s side.

  “Sir, if we launch the missiles, isn’t there a chance we’ll hit the CDF scout force?” Noah asked.

  Colonel Douglass regarded Noah for a moment and he had the distinct impression he’d overstepped his bounds.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Noah said quickly.

  “Listen up,” Colonel Douglass bellowed. “There are very few of you who’ve actually fought in a war. This is the day where that all changes. The CDF scout group has engaged the enemy fleets. From here on out, that is how we will refer to them. General Gates is commanding the Vigilant. We’ll work like hell not to hurt one of our own, but it may not be helped. War is messy. Our job is to defend the colony from attack. We suspected that this enemy fleet from whatever damn hell they crawled out of was coming for us. The colony is depending on us to do our jobs, and we will.”

  The CDF soldiers in the Command Center went back to work. Noah looked at Colonel Douglass. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Help me figure out how to stop that fleet. Is there anything else in the data burst?” Colonel Douglass asked.

  “Just the PRADIS configuration update to detect ship wakes and that they were engaging the enemy. The rest doesn’t make much sense. If we get more information, I can try and parse it into what we already have,” Noah replied.

  “Understood. I want you to stick around. Sit with Captain Thorne at the Tactical work area and lend assistance as needed,” Colonel Douglass said.

  “Yes, sir,” Noah replied.

  Noah walked over and sat down in the seat next to Caleb. “The colonel wants me to give you a hand,” Noah said.

  “Thanks for the assist earlier. I didn’t know PRADIS could be configured to scan like that,” Caleb replied.

  “How do you decide what to target?” Noah asked.

  Caleb pinched his lips together. “It’s all about establishing priority targets. We have some time because they’re still pretty far out.”

  “How much time do we really have? Couldn’t they have already fired their weapons . . . you know, missiles of their own?” Noah asked.

  “They could, but we would have detected them,” Caleb said.

  Noah frowned at the tactical display. “Why haven’t they fired on us yet?”

  “I have no idea. What I have here is a long-range firing solution. It’s pretty run of the mill, designed to strike at the heart of this main attack force. Since we’re targeting ship wakes, we have to guess where the ships actually are,” Caleb replied.

  “If you launched the missiles in groups, wouldn’t the targeting systems update?” Noah asked.

  “Yes, but that’s assuming a strong PRADIS contact. What we have is essentially a passive scan,” Caleb said.

  “Tactical, still waiting on that firing solution,” Colonel Douglass said.

  “Alpha, bravo, and charlie packages uploaded and awaiting your approval, sir,” Caleb said.

  Noah glanced over at Colonel Douglass, wondering what the man was thinking. Noah didn’t know what he would do if he were in the colonel’s shoes. At this range, even if they launched their missiles, it would still be hours before they reached their targets.

  “Approved. Launch the first salvo now,” Colonel Douglass said.

  Noah watched as Caleb authorized the launch. Armored hatches opened as the HADES IV-B missiles launched from their tubes. The automated loaders were already loading more missiles.

  “This is the first of many salvos,” Caleb said.

  Noah nodded. What would they do after all their birds were in the air? Noah wondered if he should say a prayer. He wanted to know why the enemy fleet hadn’t attacked them yet. He looked at the PRADIS screen and hoped his friends serving aboard the Vigilant were okay.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Connor sat in the command chair on the Vigilant’s bridge. Several hours had passed since their initial encounter with the enemy fleet. Major Hayes had just reported in.

  “That’s four of the main projectors that are simply gone,” Reisman said.

  “Could have been a lot worse. A few degrees lower and the entire bulkhead for that section might have been gone,” Connor replied.

  Reisman’s brow furrowed as he read through the damage report.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Sergeant Boers said, standing at attention outside the command area.

  Connor waved her over. “Yes, what is it, Sergeant?”

  “I’ve been going back through the recorded signals during the encounter and I was able to make something out. I’ve isolated some transmissions from the Wyatt and I thought you’d like to hear it,” Sergeant Boers said.

  “Sure thing. Anything we can learn about them will help,” Connor said.

  Sergeant Boers held up her tablet computer and replayed the signal she’d recorded.

  The sounds stemmed from a partial transmission from the Wyatt.

  “. . . They’re right on top of us. . . prepare to repel boarders. They’re coming through the hangar bay . . .” The person speaking faded away to static. Then another voice spoke in a deep rasp. “Vemus . . .”

  The recorded signal finished and Sergeant Boers closed the tablet interface.

  “Vemus? Is that all there is?” Connor asked.

  “I’ve heard that word spoken a few other times, but it always sounds the same. Shortly after this recording was when the Wyatt went offline. I cross-referenced it in our systems and came up empty,” Sergeant Boers said.

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” Connor said.

  The comms officer returned to her workstation and Reisman came over. “We should consider posting security teams at the hangar bay and the airlocks,” Reisman said.

  “Agreed. I wish I knew why they would try to board a ship in the first place. They clearly have ample firepower,” Connor said.

  “Vemus. Not sure what that even means,” Reisman said.

  “Could be a war cry of some sort. The fact that we can’t find any remains of the Wyatt means they might have been captured instead of destroyed. Two hundred CDF soldiers unaccounted for,” Connor said.

  “We haven’t heard from the Banshee either. Do you think they’ve been captured as well?” Reisman asked.

  Connor shook his head. “No. Our scans show there were no enemy ships near them. I suspect Savannah went comms silent to protect their position and she’s waiting for our cue on how to proceed. Her greatest weapon is the fact that she’s able to sneak around.”

  Reisman tilted his head, considering. “That’s a hell of a gamble.”

  “And one we’ll need to account for in our plans,” Connor said.

  Reisman blew out a breath. “Good, so you have a plan,” he said with mock severity.

  Connor was momentarily taken aback and then snorted. “You’d think after all these years I’d be expecting that kind of crap.”

  The doors to the bridge opened and Sean walked in, leading two other men from his team. He turned back and gave them some orders, and they began using handheld scanners to make a sweep of the bridge.

  Connor had received a message from Dr. Allen that Colonel Ian Howe had died a short while ago. The body had been preserved. He needed the perpetrators found, but this was a distraction he couldn’t afford right now.

  Sean came over. “Sir, we’re making a sweep of the bridge.”

  “Do you really expect to find traces of radioactivity here?” Connor asked.

  “Leave no stone unturned, sir,” Captain Quinn replied. “We’ve narrowed it down to a specific type of radiation and have found trace a
mounts of it in the mess hall and in common areas of the ship. We searched through crewman quarters, but that didn’t yield anything.”

  Connor glanced over at the two CDF soldiers scanning the bridge. They earned themselves more than one annoyed glance from the busy bridge crew.

  “We’ve questioned soldiers who had access to equipment that would extract the substance used to poison Colonel Howe, but they all check out. They all had alibis and a reputation for being loyal to Howe,” Sean said.

  The soldiers waited just outside the command area, and Connor gestured for them to come do what they needed to do. The soldiers hastened inside.

  “Has Captain Toro turned up anything?” Connor asked.

  “He’s chasing down a few leads but nothing so far. We’ve been widening our search beyond the most direct places. Engineer Hatly has been helpful in showing the bare minimum we would need to extract polonium. Unfortunately, a crude setup can be hidden almost anywhere,” Sean said and glanced over at the soldiers who were scanning the area. They’d stopped around the command chair.

  “Do you have something, Lieutenant?” Sean asked.

  The soldier nodded. “I have trace readings on the arms of the chair and on the terminal interface.”

  Connor walked over and looked at the data on the scanner. There was just enough to show that someone who’d been in the command chair had come into contact with the polonium.

  “Trace readings though, so not an immediate danger,” Reisman said.

  The soldier with the scanner pointed it at Reisman and then at Connor. “You’re fine,” the lieutenant said.

  “This narrows things down,” Connor said, glancing at his hands.

  Throughout his career as a soldier, people had tried to kill him, but it had always been more direct, such as with a gun in hand.

  “Sir, I need your authorization for the command logs to the bridge, as well as your personal quarters and anywhere else you’ve been for the past week,” Sean said.

  Reisman’s brows pulled together in surprise and he looked at Connor. “You’re the target?”

  Connor clenched his teeth for a moment. “You can have whatever you need. Catch the bastard.”

  “Sir, in light of this recent development, I need to assign you a security detail for your own protection. They’ll be with you at all times until this is resolved,” Sean said.

  Connor shook his head in disgust. They needed to focus their attention on the enemy, not be suspicious of one another. “Comms, give me a ship-wide broadcast channel,” he said and waited for Sergeant Boers to open the channel. Connor stepped toward the railing that separated the command area from the rest of the bridge. With teeth clenched, he grabbed the metallic bar and squeezed as if he could choke the life from it. “Crew of the Vigilant, this is General Gates,” Connor said, his voice sounding harsh. “I have disturbing news to share with you beyond the enemies nipping at our heels. Colonel Ian Howe has died. He’s been murdered. I realize this comes as a shock to most of you. By all reports, Colonel Howe was highly respected by his crew, and he will be deeply missed. The fact that he was murdered by a despicable act of cowardice leaves little doubt in my mind that we have a traitor in our midst. Colonel Howe was poisoned, and the guilty parties are still at large. Dr. Allen informed me that Colonel Howe succumbed to radiation poisoning. Though Dr. Allen made him as comfortable as possible, it was not gentle. He died in pain and he suffered. Crew of the Vigilant, rest assured that I will do everything in my power to find the people responsible for this and they will be dealt with decisively.” Connor paused with a sneer and glared upwards. “And to the people responsible for this, I know you’re out there, listening on this ship-wide broadcast, wondering what you’re going to do next. Don’t bother. I’m going to find your traitorous ass and I’m going to nail it to the wall. You may be hiding now, scurrying in the shadows, but there is nowhere you can hide from me!”

  Connor cut the broadcast. Of all the things they should be focusing on right now, a traitor among them wasn’t at the top of his list. That slippery son of a bitch was going to pay. The one thing above all others that couldn’t be tolerated in any military was a betrayal of one’s own.

  Connor swung his gaze toward Sean. “Find who did this.”

  Sean leveled his gaze in return. “You have my word, sir. I will find them.”

  Connor nodded and turned his gaze back to the main holoscreen. Sean left the bridge and sent in two security officers, posting them just outside the command area.

  Reisman came to stand beside him. “You think your speech will smoke out our assassin?”

  “I hope so. I have a very short list of people I absolutely trust. You and Sean are on the top of that list,” Connor said.

  “It’s going to take more than two of us to survive this,” Reisman said.

  “Now we have more than two of us. Howe was loved by his crew. It was a cruel twist of fate that he got caught in the crossfire, but this also proves something else,” Connor said.

  “What’s that?”

  “This would-be assassin didn’t act alone. Someone told him to do this,” Connor said.

  Reisman frowned while he thought about it. “Governor Parish?”

  Connor shrugged. “Or one of his supporters. He’s been the most vocal about his thoughts on the CDF. Even if he didn’t give the actual order, someone in his administration did. If we live through what we’re doing out here, I hope we find out who.”

  “I’ll make sure the next comms drone we send back has an extra package for Frank Mallory,” Reisman said.

  Connor smiled grimly. “Time to move forward with the plan,” he said.

  Connor scowled at the command chair. He couldn’t use it until it had been decontaminated. He stood in the middle of the command area with his hands clasped behind him. “Ops, I want a scanner drone deployed. Use only CDF encrypted channels. I want anything remotely related to the old NA Alliance protocols isolated from the system. Lock out those options unless I give my express permission.”

  “Yes, sir, initiating lockout of Alliance protocols from the system,” Sergeant Browning said.

  “Tactical, can you isolate the enemy ship that took the Wyatt?” Connor asked.

  “I have its position at the time of the engagement. We’ve been drawing steadily toward Titan Space Station,” Lieutenant LaCroix said.

  “Sir, scanner drone has been deployed. Configured to go active on your command,” Sergeant Browning said.

  “Acknowledged,” Connor responded.

  “Once we activate that drone, they’ll know we’re scanning the area,” Reisman said.

  “I’m counting on it. We’ll need to move quickly once we get targeting data,” Connor said.

  “What about using the Banshee? I think I have a way to send specific instructions to Major Cross,” Reisman said.

  “Now that we know the enemy fleet is made up of NA Alliance military ships, we do have an insight into their capabilities. You find a way to reach the Banshee, and if you succeed, I want her to send her missiles at the main fleet while continuing on toward Titan Space Station,” Connor said.

  “We should be within long-range missiles. Kasey will likely have already launched them,” Reisman said.

  “Yup, which means our window to find which of these ships has the Wyatt is closing. I’ll leave you to it. I need to speak to LaCroix,” Connor said.

  He walked over to the Tactical response work area of the bridge. “Lieutenant, I need you to do a couple of things for me. Some of them will seem unorthodox,” Connor said.

  Lieutenant Vladimir LaCroix looked up at Connor. “Ready when you are, sir.”

  “First, I want you to bring up the schematics of a Barracuda-class battleship carrier. Mark all the enemy ships identified as having that ship design and give them the designation Vemus,” Connor said.

  Lieutenant LaCroix updated the output on the main holoscreen. There were over a hundred ships of the Vemus fleet that had that designation, but there wer
e still many ships that didn’t meet that criteria, and Connor wasn’t sure what they were.

  “We’ll need to do this with the known ship types and try to align them with Vemus ships. Allow for a ten percent tolerance to account for that additional exoskeleton the ships seem to have,” Connor said.

  “Understood, sir. I have a suggestion,” LaCroix said.

  “Go ahead,” Connor replied.

  “We do have the ability to deploy mines using a cold launch so they won’t be detected. I’m thinking that littering the battlefield with them and just setting an old-fashioned timer to detonate when the bulk of the enemy fleet is on them would have some lasting results,” LaCroix said.

  “That could work and does get around the fact that they can block our communications. I’m just not sure how effective they’ll be,” Connor said.

  “Just something to consider, sir,” LaCroix said.

  “We’ll hold off on it for now. Once we activate the scanner drone, I’ll need firing solutions fairly rapidly,” Connor said.

  “What’s the targeting priority, sir?”

  “The way their fleet is deployed makes me think they expect to take their hits at the very front—the line of battle, if you will. I want to bypass them and have our birds hit them in the middle. The HADES IV-B should be able to handle that. How the ships on the line react will reveal which one of them has the Wyatt. They likely latched onto the ship somehow, which would make that ship oddly shaped, unless they try to fit it in the middle hangar. It would be a tight fit, and I expect that ship would be the least likely to react,” Connor said.

  “That’s the one you want me to isolate when the scanners go live?” LaCroix asked.

  “Yes, and I’ll need a solution for disabling that ship,” Connor said.

  “What’s this about disabling a ship?” Reisman asked as he walked over.

  Connor glanced over at the colonel. “We’ll need a boarding party of our own, unless we get confirmation that the Wyatt has been destroyed and all her crew lost. Otherwise we go get them back and try to learn more about the enemy,” Connor said.