by Ken Lozito
Noah disabled the field and Kara engaged the platform’s thrusters. The plasma-cannon swung around and Noah began priming the shot. Kara frantically tried to control the platform’s thrusters, but she couldn’t keep it stable enough. Noah tried to engage the gravity field, but it wasn’t responding. Without it, they’d only get a few shots because there was nothing to keep the cannon in place.
The massive ship came barreling toward them and Noah waited for the remains of the orbital defense platform to come around again.
“Hold on,” Noah said.
Gritting his teeth, he waited for the plasma-cannon to align on the target at point-blank range. At the last possible second, he fired the weapon. The plasma-cannon unleashed molten fury in a hail of magnetic bolts with superheated centers. The bolts tore into the hull of the battleship carrier while Noah maximized the shuttle’s engines. He angled away from the ship and sped away. As they cleared the ship, Noah saw that the plasma-cannon was still active, which meant it was still firing. He swung the nose of the shuttle around and could see the battleship carrier being ripped apart. The barrel of the plasma-cannon was lodged in the belly of the ship. Noah glanced over to the side and saw two streams of white bolts coming from a heavy cruiser. It was the Vigilant! Sections of the ship had been shorn away, but its remaining rail-cannon fired mercilessly on the enemy ship. He watched as the large behemoth expanded and then the exoskeleton split apart the fusion warheads, rending the ship to shreds.
“Noah, get us out of here or we’ll be caught up in it!” Kara shouted.
Noah got on the controls and maximized the thrusters. The shuttle raced away and Noah saw the Vigilant try to do the same, but the shockwave sent the severely damaged CDF heavy cruiser tumbling. The gleam from the remaining drive pods went offline as the ship slowly rolled over on its axis. The shuttle’s power systems shut down because the destruction of the battleship carrier sent out an electromagnetic pulse. Noah knew they’d come back online because the shutdown was part of the emergency response built into the system fail-safes for smaller spacecraft.
Noah glanced over at Kara. “Are you alright?”
Kara looked around. “I think so. The shuttle’s intact.”
The power systems came back online, along with their heads-up displays. A massive debris field stretched out before them, filled with huge sections of the Vemus ship. Telemetry of the field showed that they wouldn’t be coming near the planet. New Earth was safe.
They’d lost track of the Vigilant when they lost power, and the shuttle’s limited scanning capability couldn’t distinguish the Vigilant from the space debris in the area. Noah sent out automated ship hails on all comms channels. After getting no response, he flew the shuttle into the field and began looking for the Vigilant.
“If they abandoned ship, we should at least be getting beacons from the escape pods,” Kara said.
They caught up to the dead CDF ship a few minutes later. Noah tried opening a comms channel to the ship, but there was no response. The Vigilant looked more like a ship under construction than a vessel that had just come from a battle. Noah kept trying to get a response from anyone alive on the ship and felt a tinge of desperation creeping into his voice.
Finally, a comlink registered on the shuttle’s heads-up display.
“We’re here,” Connor replied, his voice sounding strained. “We’re still here. Did we destroy it?”
“It’s good to hear your voice, sir. No Vemus ships in the area. We have a lock on you. We’ll transmit your position back to COMCENT and get rescue operations going,” Noah said.
“That sounds good. Better tell them to use quarantine protocols,” Connor said.
Noah frowned and glanced at Kara. “I don’t understand. Quarantine protocols for what?” he asked.
“It’s a long story. Better patch in COMCENT if you can. We need emergency medical supplies as well. What’s your location?” Connor asked.
“We’re on a shuttle near the remains of the orbital defense platform,” Noah said.
“So you’re the ones who got off that final shot. Good work. You saved us all,” Connor said.
“I had help,” Noah replied and Kara spoke up.
“Thanks to you, too, Major,” Connor said.
“COMCENT is ready . . .” Noah said.
Chapter Thirty-One
A week had passed since the attack. It had taken several days to get the survivors organized and make sure that there were no more ships in the Vemus fleet. The Vigilant was towed to the space docks near the lunar base. Unless they rebuilt the entire ship, Connor doubted it would fly again anytime soon, if ever. Given what they’d faced, he wasn’t sure investing in a fleet was their best option at this time. Officially, he and the rest of the Vigilant and the Banshee crews were still under quarantine. He was supposed to stay at the hastily constructed quarantine sections of the lunar space docks where they’d been building their own battleship carrier, but Dr. Ashley Quinn had cleared him and a small task force to leave. Connor had asked her to keep his clearance under wraps for the time being. None of the crew that had been directly exposed to the Vemus ship’s atmosphere showed any indication of infection, which was both a very good sign and a troubling one because they were no closer to understanding how humanity had fallen.
Once news of the attack had spread throughout the colony, the populace celebrated the Colonial Defense Force. The attack they’d all feared had come and they’d survived. All their preparation and sacrifice had paid off. But Connor had trouble thinking of it as a victory. They’d survived only by the skin of their teeth. Their defenses were virtually gone, and he was haunted by thoughts of the soldiers they’d left behind.
The CDF had commandeered the Chmiel and were heading back out to where Titan Space Station had been, looking for CDF soldiers still alive in the escape pods. Connor wished that was the only reason the Chmiel had returned to that area of space. The cargo carrier was also tasked with setting up a high-powered sensor array taken off the battleship carrier they’d been building.
Only a few people knew Connor had returned to the planet and he aimed to keep it that way for now. He had Noah going through the data Reisman had taken from the Indianapolis, which was hitting the “mother lode,” as Noah liked to put it, in terms of learning about their enemy. One of the first orders of business Connor initiated from quarantine was to reposition their deep-space sensor array. At the same time, he’d ordered salvage crews to extract the Vemus communication protocols from the Vigilant’s comms systems.
“I think our bird has finally come home, sir,” Sean said.
Connor waited in a darkened office in the governor’s residence. They’d easily disabled the security forces stationed at the governor’s home, and Stanton Parish was on his way home. There had been celebrations of their “victory” over the Vemus, and Governor Parish had no end of speeches to give commemorating the occasion. Connor had brought a team of special CDF forces with him that was led by the newly promoted Major Sean Quinn. He deserved the promotion and was smart enough to know there was a lot more work coming his way.
“Target has entered the premises,” Sean said.
Connor leaned against the wall in the shadows. The governor’s desk was on the far side of the room. Connor had been to this office often over the years when Tobias Quinn had been governor but not so much since Stanton Parish had been elected. Connor heard Stanton’s voice outside the office doors and then they opened.
Parish walked into the office and the interior lighting slowly illuminated to a casual brilliance. He walked over to his bar and poured himself a glass of scotch. Connor heard the ice hit the glass and then cleared his throat.
Parish spun around, spilling some of his drink. “Who’s there?”
Connor stepped from the shadowy confines of the dark corner. “Hello, Governor.”
“General Gates. I’m surprised to see you here,” Parish said, blanching.
Connor didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slowly crossed the room.
Parish glanced at the door.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be disturbed. My men have your security forces detained for the moment,” Connor said and sat down.
Parish swallowed hard and walked over to sit at his desk. “When did you get out of quarantine?”
Connor narrowed his gaze for a moment. “You’d be better served to just listen for the moment while I put the cards out on the table. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Parish drained his scotch and set the glass on his desk with shaking hands. There was no question in Connor’s mind that the man was afraid of him, as he should be. He’d thought long and hard about being in Parish’s presence again.
“You tried to kill me,” Connor said.
Parish’s eyes widened. “That’s absurd. I would never do such a thing. You’re a hero. You saved us from the Vemus—”
Connor slammed his fist on the desk and Parish jumped. “You don’t get to call me a hero. Not now. Not ever. I may not have the evidence to prove what you tried to have done to me, but I know it was you who put the pieces in motion.”
Parish began to protest and Connor leaped from his chair and launched himself across the desk. He grabbed Parish by his shirt and slammed the man against the wall. “Colonel Ian Howe died a horrible death because of you, because your man screwed up while following your orders. Do you have any idea how painful it is to die of radiation poisoning? The utter collapse of your entire body? Here, have a look,” Connor growled.
He slammed Parish down onto his desk and held him in place. Connor used his implants and sent a video feed to the nearest wallscreen. A deathly pale man lay on a bed in the Vigilant’s infirmary.
“Look at it,” Connor said and grabbed Parish’s head, making him look at the screen. “We kept Ian in a coma because he was in so much pain. We had fifteen more soldiers suffering from milder cases of radiation poisoning, including Major Nathan Hayes. With one fell swoop, your efforts to have me killed almost took out the senior officers serving on the Vigilant right before the Vemus attacked.”
Parish gasped for breath. “I didn’t know. You have to believe me. I didn’t know that was going to happen. I’m sorry.”
Connor stepped back from the governor and sneered. “You’re sorry. The enemy we were warned about has come and you’re playing a petty scheme?”
Parish pushed himself up and staggered back against the wall. “I was wrong. I didn’t know how wrong I was.”
“Who else was working with you?” Connor asked while unholstering his sidearm.
“No one else!” Parish cried. “I swear, it was just Toro. That’s it; he was my contact.”
Connor glanced at his sidearm as if considering whether or not he was going to shoot the governor. Then he holstered his weapon. “I’m not going to kill you. While it would be immensely satisfying to me, it would set us back. This war isn’t over.”
Parish blinked and he opened his mouth. “What do you mean it isn’t over? You stopped the Vemus fleet. Nothing has been detected from our sensors.”
Connor sucked in a breath and sighed. “This wasn’t the main fleet. They were being controlled.”
Parish’s eyes widened. “Not the main fleet? Over a thousand ships came. How many more could there be?”
“We don’t know. They sent a scout force to soften our defenses, learn what we’re capable of. When they come at us again, they’ll bring the full measure of their attack force,” Connor said.
Parish was silent for a moment and licked his lips. “How do you know this?”
“We found their control signal. It was how we stopped them. We interfered with the signal, which sent their fleet into disarray. Otherwise, they would have gotten past all our defenses,” Connor said.
“My God,” Parish said and swallowed hard. “What do we do?”
Connor glared at the man. There were so few of them left that Connor knew they needed every able-bodied person if they were going to have a chance of survival.
“Why is it that men like you make your speeches and look at soldiers like me as a necessary evil, but when your life’s in danger, you look to me to save it for you,” Connor said with a sneer.
He took a few steps away, not trusting himself to be near the governor.
“I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear? I was wrong. Now tell me how we can survive what’s coming,” Parish said.
Connor shook his head. “That’s just it. I don’t know if we can survive.”
Parish stepped around the desk. “You must have something in mind, some kind of plan. We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you.”
“Not me,” Connor said. “Thousands of CDF soldiers gave their lives so you could talk about victories at public events.”
Parish held his hands in front his chest in a placating gesture. “What do you want me to say? The public has a right to know. They need to celebrate those victories. It gives them hope.”
“You’re just making up for all the doubt you’ve sown for the past year you’ve been in office. I can’t fight an enemy with my men conflicted about what they’re fighting for,” Connor said.
“All that is done now. You’ll have whatever you need,” Parish said.
Bile crept up Connor’s throat. The governor stank of fear and was now trying to barter away everything he could to ensure his survival.
“I know I’ll get whatever I need now. I may not be able to prove in a court of law that you tried to have me killed and worked to manipulate the Colonial Defense Force in such a way as to sow dissent among our ranks, but you represent a sickness, a cancer that needs to be removed,” Connor said.
Parish stepped back. “You said you wouldn’t kill me.”
Connor nodded. “You’re right; I’m not going to kill you. You’ll always know where you stand with me. I have a question for you.”
Parish pressed his lips together. “What?”
“How badly do you want to survive? Would you give anything so the colony can survive?” Connor asked.
“Yes, of course I would,” Parish said.
“Are you sure? Because that’s what it’s going to take. Setting aside our differences and coming together is what I think is going to give us our best chance.”
“You’re one hundred percent right.”
“I’m glad you think that way. So you won’t have any objections to stepping down as governor then?” Connor asked.
Parish’s face twisted into a confused frown. “What . . . stepping down? I’m not sure I understood you correctly.”
“I think you understood me perfectly. You’ve spent the last year running the CDF around in circles, denying critical requests. I think the only way forward is for you to step down as governor of the colony,” Connor said.
“Who would take my place? You?” Parish asked.
Connor’s lips lifted into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not me.”
“Who then?”
“There’s a fascinating bit under emergency powers in the articles of the colony from subsection thirty-six. It talks about an elected official who’s called upon to deal with a situation he’s not equipped to deal with,” Connor said.
Parish looked away.
“This is your chance to atone. Step down and restore Tobias Quinn as governor of the colony. He understands the threat we face,” Connor said.
Parish turned away and brought his hands to his hips, his head hung low. “Alright, you win. I’ll do it. I’ll call a press conference in the morning and announce my resignation.”
“There will be a press conference called tomorrow, but not by you,” Connor said.
Parish turned back toward him in alarm.
“Governor Quinn, did you get that?” Connor asked while showing the comms channel he’d had active since Parish had entered the office. The wallscreen changed to show Tobias Quinn’s face.
“Yes, I did,” Tobias said
and looked at Parish. “We have it on record, and I would strongly caution you against making the argument that you’re abdicating the governor’s seat under duress. We’ll handle the formal transfer tomorrow, but effective immediately, the powers of the governor are transferred to me. Do you concur?”
Parish glanced at Connor for a moment. “Yes,” he said in a tight voice.
“Good,” Connor said. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thank you,” Tobias said. “Franklin is waiting for you at CDF headquarters with a full staff.”
Connor left the office. Tobias would handle the legality of what had just transpired and then they would all regroup in the morning. In the hall, CDF soldiers stood over the governor’s security personnel, who were lined up against the wall.
Connor walked over to Sean. “Leave a team here to secure the residence and make sure Parish doesn’t try anything. You and the rest of the team will be coming with me to CDF headquarters.”
“Yes, sir,” Sean said and issued orders to the men who were staying behind.
Sean caught up to Connor. “I’d say the hard part is over, but that would be a lie.”
They headed to the troop carrier that was standing by. “You’re right. The hard part is just beginning, but we have an idea of what to expect now.”
They climbed aboard the troop carrier, which left the governor’s residence. It was in these quiet moments that he felt the loss of his old friends and those from the colony. He still felt that Kasey and Wil were just a simple comlink away. He’d come to rely on them as trusted confidants. He wanted their counsel now more than ever as people looked to him to come up with a way to defend them against the Vemus.
The door to the cockpit opened and Connor heard the heavy thuds of combat boots trudging along. He glanced up and saw Juan Diaz staring down at him.
Diaz gave a playful punch to Sean’s arm. “He’s got that look again, that look that says the world is riding on his shoulders. Don’t worry, General, we got your back. Always have. Always will.”
Connor felt his face lift into his first genuine smile in a long time. “It’s good to see you.”
