First Colony: Books 1 - 3

by Ken Lozito

  “Thank you, Governor. As General Gates has stated, the long-held belief is that because the comms buoys supporting the deep-space network were going offline, it meant that some kind of invasion fleet was making its way to this star system, following a trail of breadcrumbs right to us. However, many astrophysicists agree that the reason for the buoys going offline is simply that they reached the end of their lifecycle,” Dr. Mendoza said.

  Connor glanced at Tobias, who gave a slight shake of his head.

  “So we’ll ignore the warning message from Earth and their last act, which was to alter the Ark’s mission and bring us here instead of the intended destination. I’m sure you’re a fine astrophysicist and you could be right about the buoys. They could be failing because they’re beyond their life cycle, but even engineers know that the likelihood of these buoys failing sequentially is almost nil,” Connor said.

  “The only thing we know for sure is that something significant happened to Earth, nothing more than that. A reference to some super virus doesn’t mean they’re crossing interstellar space to reach us here,” Dr. Mendoza said.

  “Are you willing to bet your life on that?” Connor asked and swung his gaze toward Parish. “Are you, Governor? Are you willing to bet the lives of the entire colony on that?”

  Parish leaned back. “I may be the governor, but this is a decision shared by all colonists.”

  “You’re acting as if your decisions won’t have any bearing on whether or not we survive. The decisions you make affect lives. When you have people like Dr. Mendoza spreading doubt about the very real danger we’re in, it sends the message that you don’t believe the colony is in any danger despite the evidence that supports the claim,” Connor said.

  “Everyone agrees that the initial message that changed the Ark’s mission was sent out between ten and twenty years after we left.” Dr. Mendoza said. “So, in essence, if there was some kind of fleet heading for us, we potentially have thirteen more years before they arrive. That’s even if they know exactly where we are in the first place. Even if we err on the side of caution, we still have three years, which leaves a substantial amount of time to address the defense of the colony.”

  “You’re assuming that their speed and method of travel is the same as the Ark. You know what the root of the word ‘assumption’ makes you, right?” Connor asked.

  Dr. Mendoza sneered. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

  “General Gates,” Parish warned.

  “My job is to defend the colony, which means I need the resources to do so without leaving our first line of defense at half capacity. I don’t want an invasion. In fact, I hope people like Dr. Mendoza and you, Governor, are right and that we’re observing the sequential failure of the deep-space buoy network. But, if you’re wrong, wouldn’t you sleep a bit better knowing that we’re doing everything we can to keep this colony safe?” Connor asked.

  Governor Parish leaned forward, and his hands formed a bridge in front of him. “Not every request from the Colonial Defense Force can be pitted against the survival of the colony. Over the past seven years, we’ve devoted enormous resources to the defense of the colony—from missile-defense platforms to using a large chunk of the Ark that went toward the construction of Titan Space Station and the battleship cruiser. So when it comes to our defense capability and the efforts of people like you, General, I sleep very well at night.”

  “So will you approve the request this time?” Connor asked.

  “We’ve approved the creation of the additional supplies you’ve requested, but in regards to the secondary power system for the space station, that request will be denied. We’ll review it again in the next twelve months,” Governor Parish said.

  Connor pressed his lips together. He wanted to tell them they were going to become victims of their own shortsightedness and make them all cower in the face of their reckless decisions. Something was coming for them—something that none of them really understood. Connor might have had more doubts if Admiral Wilkinson hadn’t been involved. The aged war veteran of the NA Alliance Navy had been nearing the end of his career when he’d snuck Connor and the rest of the Ghosts aboard the Ark. Connor wholeheartedly believed that Wilkinson had included his own name in the mission summary brief that changed the Ark’s destination in order to lend credibility to the content of the brief. It had been a message for Connor, and it was meant as a direct instruction to prepare the colony for invasion.

  Connor looked at the governor, and his gaze strayed over to Tobias. He tried to think of something to say that might change their minds but couldn’t think of anything that hadn’t already been said. Connor didn’t want to spread panic across the colony, so he had to work within the current confines, and this wouldn’t be the last request he ever made. If anything, the last seven years had taught him that a little bit of tact went a long way.

  The session ended, and despite Connor’s outwardly calm demeanor, he was seething. He’d thought they’d at least grant the request in a few months’ time, and to be put off for an entire year was ridiculous. If only they’d been able to successfully extract more information from the deep-space buoys, but they weren’t designed to hold vast amounts of information. They had a specific job to do, which was to relay the data, not store it. After the data had passed through the buoy network, the operating systems expunged it. Connor glanced around the chamber, thinking that there were a few government officials he’d like to expunge.

  4

  Connor threaded his way out of the congressional chambers. A few people tried to stop him by asking questions, but he put them off, having no interest in glad-handing anyone. He saw Ashley making her way toward him and then getting stopped by a small group of people. Connor used the opportunity to slip away. These requisition-type committees were usually attended by Franklin Mallory, Director of the CDF. Connor couldn’t bear attending them, and after getting his request denied again, he had no wish to stand around complaining about it.

  Wil Reisman was waiting for him outside the congressional building. Reisman took one look at him and frowned. “Went that well, did it?”

  Connor quickly went down the stairs, and Wil walked next to him. “Oh, you know, same old crap. ‘This isn’t a priority. Come back in a year and perhaps you’ll get what you need then.’”

  “This administration isn’t like the last one,” Reisman said.

  “At least Tobias listened to reason. Parish flat out refuses to believe there’s even a threat to the colony,” Connor said.

  “What’s our next move? Return to the shuttle?”

  Connor glanced at the line of electric cars outside the building and couldn’t find the one with the CDF designation on the door.

  “Yeah, if we can even find the damn car,” Connor said.

  A high-priority message appeared on his internal heads-up display.

  ::Sorry to hear that the request was denied again,:: F. Mallory said.

  ::Maybe the fourth time’s the charm,:: C. Gates replied.

  ::I want to meet with you before you leave. I’m working out of Field Ops today,:: F. Mallory said.

  Connor sighed. He just wanted to get going. He had enough to do without spending the afternoon stuck in Field Ops.

  ::Do I need to make it an order?:: F. Mallory asked.

  ::On my way,:: C. Gates replied.

  The chat window closed.

  “Change of plans,” Connor said.

  He walked to the nearest car that had the golden sunburst colony emblem. The driver stood outside and glanced at them.

  “I need a ride to Field Ops headquarters,” Connor said.

  The driver frowned at them. “This is Governor Parish’s transport.”

  “Excellent. I’m on official business for the governor, and it’s vital that I get to Field Ops as soon as possible,” Connor said.

  Reisman snorted and had the grace to look away. Connor grabbed the passenger side door handle. The driver glanced up at the congressional building, conflicted.<
br />
  “Look, it’s either you or me driving the car. What’s it gonna be?” Connor asked.

  “Fine,” the driver said and walked around to the other side of the car.

  Reisman leaned toward Connor. “He denies your request so you commandeer his ride?”

  Connor smirked. “Sometimes it’s the little things that get you through the day.”

  Reisman chuckled and climbed into the back of the car. The driver pulled away, and Connor had him send out the priority signal so they’d move through traffic quickly. Fifteen minutes later they were in front of Field Operations Headquarters. Connor and Reisman climbed out of the car just as a comlink connection came to the driver.

  “Hey, wait a minute. You lied to me. The governor is outside the congressional building right now,” the driver said.

  “Tell him General Gates appreciates the ride,” Connor said and walked over to the security checkpoint.

  “Couldn’t resist rubbing it in his face,” Reisman said.

  Connor shrugged. He didn’t care. The governor had caused him no end of frustration this past year, and he felt a small tinge of satisfaction at taking the man’s ride.

  The Field Ops security detail snapped a salute toward Connor. “General Gates, Director Mallory said to inform you that he’s at his office near command central.”

  Connor thanked them and headed inside. Field Ops Headquarters had grown significantly from the prefabricated structure that was there when he’d first arrived. The new building was all angles the color of dark bronze that drank in the sunshine.

  His rank granted him priority treatment throughout the building. Before he’d been promoted to general—a rank he’d had no illusions of achieving in the NA Alliance military back on Earth—he’d sometimes found it annoying that the higher-ranked officers received preferential treatment, but as he’d been promoted through the ranks his opinion had changed. With the rank came a significant increase in workload. So, yeah, moving to the head of the line was a perk, but the tradeoff was more work. The Colonial Defense Force wasn’t much different from the NA Alliance military in that respect. The one major difference in the two militaries was that the NA Alliance was an actual military force and the CDF was just starting to get its bearings. Connor was a general because there was no one else senior enough in rank who had actual combat experience. More than once he’d experienced fleeting moments when he’d wished there were someone up the chain of command who could take over the defense of the colony. But there wasn’t anyone else, so he committed himself to doing the best he could and hoped it would be enough.

  The Field Ops Command Center was akin to the mission controls of old. There were several Field Ops centers throughout Sierra and among the smaller settlements on New Earth.

  A red-haired man with an almost permanent scowl on his face stuck his head out of an office and waved to Connor. “Why, General Gates, I’m so glad you could come by Field Operations,” Damon Mills said.

  Connor grinned. “If you keep that up, I’m gonna start calling you Director Mills.”

  Connor and Damon had gotten off to a rocky start when Connor had first come to the colony, and they’d nearly come to blows on more than one occasion, but all that was ancient history.

  “Okay, enough with that nonsense. I’m glad you’re here,” Mills said and beckoned them to his office. “Franklin is on his way down.”

  They walked into Mills’ office and sat down.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to ask me to do something for you?” Connor asked.

  Mills smiled. “Give and take, and I believe this time you owe me.”

  Connor arched an eyebrow. “To be honest, I’ve lost count.”

  “Trust me, you do.”

  “You know I don’t trust anyone,” Connor said.

  Reisman glanced at him.

  “Present company excluded, of course,” Connor said. “Alright, what is it you need?”

  “I have a group of engineers who need a ride to an archaeological dig site past the new frontier boundary,” Mills said.

  Connor’s brows pulled together. “Are you seriously asking me to provide transport for a group of engineers?”

  The door to Mills’ office opened and Franklin Mallory walked in.

  “Good, you’re here,” Mallory said and looked at Mills. “Did you tell him?”

  Mills shook his head. “I was about to.”

  Connor glanced at Mallory. “The only thing he told me was to ferry a team of engineers to a dig site past the frontier boundary. Are you in on this too?”

  Mallory looked confused. “What do you mean?”

  “When we landed, Sean kept bringing up Lenora and some find at her new dig site. I assumed—” Connor stopped speaking, suddenly feeling foolish.

  “As interesting as you think your personal life is to the rest of us, I can assure you it has no bearing on this request,” Mallory said.

  Connor looked away and shook his head. Sometimes he walked right into trouble. “Alright, I’m done being an idiot. What’s so special about this site?”

  “Oh, you mean beyond Dr. Bishop being there? I so wish you guys had stuck together,” Mills said, his voice going high.

  Reisman snorted, unable to keep it in anymore.

  “Look, I have a shuttle waiting for me. Seriously, what’s this all about?” Connor asked.

  “Lenora may have found another city,” Mallory said.

  Connor frowned. The last time Lenora had found the ruins of a city, they’d set off some kind of auto-protect protocol that signaled the ryklars to attack them. The ryklars had demonstrated intelligence beyond that of normal predators and many people had died.

  “She said this city appears to be larger than what they found seven years ago, but the real find that applies directly to you is an intact power station in the ruins. Lenora knows better than to tinker with what she found. Her team took some preliminary readings, and they look quite promising,” Mallory said.

  “I still don’t see where I figure into all of this,” Connor said.

  “Oh, it’s not you personally; it’s just the combat shuttle you’re flying around in. It’s much faster than our troop transport vehicles. You can drop the engineering team off at the site in half the time it would take one of my carriers,” Mills said.

  “Well, that’s good for you. What’s in it for me?” Connor asked.

  “How about some gratitude?” Mills said.

  “Now who’s a pain in the ass?” Connor said.

  “Connor,” Mallory said. “I want you to take a quick look before you head off to Titan Space Station. Our engineers learned quite a bit from the alloy they found at the last ruined city. They’ve perfected it since then and we’ve obviously used it in the construction of Sierra. What if we find something similar in terms of the power station? New fuel for our reactors that has a higher energy output. Can you think of nowhere that would be useful?”

  Connor drew in a breath and nodded. “I get it. Definitely worth a look.”

  “I’m glad you agree,” Mallory said.

  “I guess I’m the pain in the ass now,” Connor said.

  “What’s this about you stealing the governor’s car?” Mallory asked.

  Connor’s eyes widened. “I didn’t steal his car. I had the driver give us a ride here.”

  Mills palmed his face and shook his head.

  “He’d already denied my request for Titan for a year,” Connor said.

  Mallory’s PDA chimed an incoming message. He glanced at it and the edges of his lips pulled upward.

  “What is it?” Connor asked.

  “Kallie’s with the doctor. I’m going to be a father again,” Mallory said with a wide grin.

  Connor shot out of the chair and shook Franklin’s hand, offering congratulations.

  “I guess Lars will be an older brother. Where is Lars stationed these days?” Connor asked.

  “He’s heading up the remote Field Ops centers in the other settlement. He’s d
ue to be a father soon, too,” Mallory said.

  Connor couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Lars Mallory, who was nearly twenty-five years old by now.

  “Doing your part for procreation, I see. You’re making the rest of us look bad,” Mills said.

  There was a general colony campaign promoting the importance of having children and how crucial it was to the colony’s survival beyond a few generations. Connor felt something cold in the pit of his stomach. He’d left a son behind on Earth. He’s always intended to reconnect with his son, but never had the chance.

  “I’m sure all three of you will do your part,” Mallory said while pointedly looking at each of them.

  A wave of fear stole across Reisman’s features.

  “I’m a bit old—” Mills began.

  “Don’t talk to me about age. I’m over a hundred years old. Prolong treatments more than double a person’s lifespan. There’s no excuse for any of you not to start families of your own,” Mallory said.

  Mills cleared his throat. “About that ride for the engineering team.”

  “Right, just send them to the shuttle and we’ll get them there,” Connor said.

  Mallory grinned. “You guys are a pair, I tell you.”

  “I’m happy for you. I really am. But we all know something’s coming and the buoys are not just going offline because they’re at the end of their lifecycle,” Connor said.

  Suddenly, the warmth felt like it was being sucked out of the room and the smile fled from Mallory’s face.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Mallory said and left.

  Connor made as if to leave but Mills asked him to stay a moment longer. Reisman, sensing the dismissal, left to wait for Connor outside.

  “Sometimes you really don’t know when to keep that mouth of yours shut. We’re all aware of the danger, and we don’t need you to keep shoving it in our faces,” Mills said.

  Connor felt a pang of guilt warm his cheeks, but his iron will choked the life out of it. “I know, but we can’t afford to get distracted.”

  “Distracted! The man just found out he was going to be a father again and you couldn’t let him enjoy it for five minutes without bringing up that damn crap from Earth.”