by Ken Lozito
“Then we’ll die, but it won’t be because we didn’t fight. If Wil and Kasey were here, they’d be telling you the same thing,” Lenora said.
Connor felt his mouth hang open. There was so much he wanted to say. He wished he could be the person Lenora deserved, but he wasn’t.
He heard the high-pitched whine of a combat shuttle’s engines flying toward them, and a data link came to prominence on his internal heads-up display, identifying the CDF shuttle.
5
The hangar bay of Lunar Base was a buzz of activity, and Captain Jon Walker glared at the power conduit he’d been struggling to replace on his ship for the past few hours. Being stationed on the Colonial Defense Force moon base was a new post for him. He’d only been there for six months. What had started out as a tech platform for building missile defense platforms and ships had become a full-blown military base. Since the Vemus attack, personnel had been working tirelessly to conceal the base. Aboveground installations were either hidden away or relocated to belowground facilities per General Gates’ orders. There was so much work going on that he couldn’t wait on a flight engineer to fix the power conduit on the combat shuttle.
The connectors for the conduit wouldn’t meet. He grabbed one end of the connector and pulled. Straining to get the pieces closer together, his hand slipped off and he banged it against the sidewall.
“Piece of shit!” Jon shouted, about to kick the damn thing.
“That ought to do it,” someone said from behind him.
Jon spun around to see his brother, Brian, laughing at him. Brian glanced at what Jon had been working on.
“What the hell did you do to this thing?” Brian asked.
“Not me. Something from that damn debris field out there tore into the rear of my ship,” Jon said. He noticed that his younger brother had a pale orange EVA suit on. “What’s going on? I didn’t think they let you scientists come topside, where the real work’s done.”
“Salvage run in the debris field,” Brian replied.
Jon frowned. “Salvage for what?”
Brian regarded him for a moment. “We’re looking for an undamaged section of a Vemus ship.”
Jon frowned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Why would they have you do that?”
“They’re not having me do that. I volunteered,” Brian said.
While Jon had chosen to join the Colonial Defense Force and become a soldier, his younger brother had gone in a different direction. Brian worked at a level of intelligence that was a cut above the norm. It was for this reason that Jon and Brian had gotten to come on the Ark. Jon’s aptitude scores were high, but Brian’s were definitely pretty far to the right of the bell curve that measured such things.
“What are you doing?” Jon asked.
“I told you, I’m—”
“I don’t mean that. This is a field mission. Aren’t you supposed to be in a lab somewhere trying to figure out a way to stop the Vemus?”
Brian jutted out his chin. “We need samples, living samples, in order to figure out how this thing works.”
Jon eyed him for a moment. “Can you wait a couple of hours? I’ll take you out there myself.”
Brian was about to reply when someone came around the rear of the shuttle.
“What’s going on here?” Colonel Hayes asked.
Jon immediately stood straight and snapped a salute. “Nothing, sir.”
Colonel Hayes looked at Brian. “Walker, you and your team are to report in on Explorer II.”
“Sir,” Jon said, “permission to go on the salvage mission.”
Colonel Hayes frowned and then looked at the state of Jon’s ship. “Your ship isn’t flight-ready.”
“Sir, I can have it fixed and ready in an hour,” Jon said.
Colonel Hayes glanced at the power conduit Jon was trying to get installed. “Those conduits are always a pain in the ass. After that, you’ve got to get the couplings on the right or the actuators won’t pivot the pad properly. You’ve got more than an hour’s work here, Captain.”
Jon tried to think of a reply, but everything the colonel had just said was right. Damn it! If he’d just left it alone he could have flown Brian and his team out there. Explorer II was piloted by Davis, who wasn’t the best pilot for the job.
“Dr. Walker, get on over to Explorer II. They’re waiting for you, son,” Colonel Hayes said.
“Yes, sir,” Brian said.
Jon watched as his brother left. “Stay sharp, kid,” Jon called out.
Brian turned around and gave him a wave.
“He’ll be alright,” Colonel Hayes said.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I know he’s your brother,” Colonel Hayes said.
“Yes, sir.”
Colonel Hayes called over a flight engineer and ordered him to get Jon’s ship ready.
“Where am I going, sir?” Jon asked.
“Another run to the Phoenix. We’ve got HADES IV-Bs fresh off the line that need to be delivered ASAP,” Colonel Hayes said.
Jon sighed inwardly. Delivery runs were about the only thing they got to do these days. He understood the necessity of it, but that didn’t make it any less boring.
“We’ll get it done, sir,” Jon said.
“Carry on, Captain,” Colonel Hayes said.
The flight engineer examined Jon’s work and then called a couple of his crew over while Jon set about helping them repair his ship. They couldn’t afford not to have all of their birds flight-ready. He glanced over at Explorer II as it flew out of the hangar. He’d promised his parents he’d watch out for Brian, which hadn’t been so easy since they normally weren’t at the same place. The Vemus were dangerous. He’d heard stories from the survivors of the Vigilant and the Banshee. What they’d faced on the Vemus ship was enough to give anyone nightmares, but he knew Brian didn’t see them that way. He was too analytical. He thought of the Vemus only in scientific terms and not as an enemy to be destroyed. If his ship hadn’t had a damaged engine pod, he could have flown Brian out there. Now his brother was out there with Davis, who wasn’t the worst pilot on the lunar base, but he wasn’t the best one either. He’d seen the debris field full of the remnants of Vemus ships. It was dangerous space to fly through, and with only one ship that could be spared for Brian’s mission, a rescue if things went wrong would be long in coming.
Brian had wanted a mission of his own and now he’d gotten it. Jon just hoped it wasn’t too exciting for him.
6
Noah had spent the remainder of his day prepping his team before he left for Sanctuary. He knew Lenora had spoken to Connor, but he hadn’t heard anything else since then. He hadn’t seen Connor either. He thought of opening a comlink to Sean, but since Sean was always within earshot of Connor, he didn’t think that was his brightest idea.
Lars Mallory waited for Noah to power off the holoscreens. “Why are they sending you to Sanctuary?”
Noah left his work area, and he and Lars walked out into the hallway.
“They want me to look at the alien power station there,” Noah said.
“Last I heard about that was that they weren’t able to get it to generate a significant amount of energy,” Lars said.
“Yeah, the preliminary report I saw was that it’s early fusion tech. Looks like the alien species that lived here was developing their own fusion reactor,” Noah said.
“They said it was a few hundred years old,” Lars said.
“Yup, and no one knows where the species that built it actually went.”
“That’s probably a blessing,” Lars replied.
“Why do you say that?” Noah asked.
“Because they also genetically altered some of the species here.”
“Like the ryklars and the berwolves?”
“Precisely. They’re way more intelligent than we expected from a predator,” Lars said.
“Maybe we should convince them to fight with us when the Vemus get here,” Noah said.
Lars stopp
ed walking and pursed his lips. “That’s not a bad idea, you know.”
“I was kidding,” Noah said quickly.
“I know, but it really isn’t that bad an idea,” Lars said and started walking in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” Noah asked.
“I’m going to talk to my father. Have fun in Sanctuary, and try not to blow the place up,” Lars called back as he hastened down the hall.
Great, Noah thought. He’d just become responsible for the CDF putting animals in their war against the Vemus. He’d better get to Sanctuary quickly before he accidentally gave anyone else ideas of questionable moral implications.
7
The combat shuttle flew toward Phoenix Station, and Connor brought up the optical feed onto his personal holoscreen. Sean shifted in his seat next to him, and Connor noticed him looking at the holoscreen.
“She would have made a beautiful ship,” Connor said.
“It would have been something to see her fly, sir,” Sean said.
The Phoenix was supposed to be the Colonial Defense Force’s first battleship carrier, but Connor had scrapped that plan after the Vemus attack. Instead, he’d challenged his engineers to come up with something the CDF could use in defense of New Earth, and this was their answer. They’d presented Connor with the option of having a battleship carrier that could be combat ready in six to eight months or a slower-moving space station with a comparable combat arsenal in just two months. Thus, the Phoenix became Phoenix Station, whose combat readiness increased with each passing day. On the surface, it was an easy decision to make, but it had meant forgoing any type of mobile combat units beyond New Earth’s immediate vicinity.
“There are only a few sections I recognize from the Ark,” Sean said.
Connor nodded.
Phoenix Station was an elongated cylinder with a massive section of it covered by the Montgomery III construction platform. Instead of a grouping of massive magnetic drive pods in the rear of the ship, they’d put smaller MDPs in subsections of the station.
Connor watched as Sean brought up his own holoscreen and zoomed in on one of the subsections.
“Looks like they’ve completed sections seven and eight,” Sean said.
Phoenix Station was like a heavily armed mobile wall positioned at a point in space where the gravitational pull from New Earth and the star in this system were equalized. Positioning Phoenix Station here made maintaining its orbit relatively easy, but the downside to the smaller MDPs was that the behemoth combat station was slow to reposition.
“Two more sections to be brought online,” Connor said.
They’d had to cut some corners to get Phoenix Station operational, which meant that not all the sections were equal in their capabilities. Each section had a wide array of weapons capabilities, but not all sections had the same complement of sensor arrays. The sections without sensors were dependent on those that had them. Sections that were comprised primarily of missile tubes just needed targeting data, which could be uploaded from any sensor array. Connor knew the ingenuity that had gone into Phoenix Station was enough to make any NA Alliance general proud, and since he was the CDF’s only general, he was quite pleased with what they’d been able to accomplish in a short span of time.
“We only need ten or twenty more just like it,” Connor said.
“Well, if we’re wishing for something, how about a universal override for Vemus ship navigation systems so they fly right into the star and we don’t have to worry about ’em.” Sean said with a snort.
Connor nodded. He’d noticed that Sean and others who served close to him were paying more attention to Connor’s own readiness. He couldn’t blame them. He’d let himself go. He didn’t take care of himself, and his performance suffered severely for it. Sleep helped. Ashley had prescribed him meds to help him sleep. He still felt compelled to watch the video log of his son though. He could recall every moment of it with startling clarity. He hadn’t watched it today, but he couldn’t promise himself that he wouldn’t watch it later on, believing that once he made the promise he would soon break it.
“Sir, Noah has reported in. He’s arrived at Sanctuary,” Sean said.
Connor glanced over at Sean, arching an eyebrow. “Planning to apprise me of each CDF’s individual location, Major?”
“No, sir, I just thought you’d want to know about this particular instance,” Sean replied.
“I guess this is where I could tell you to lock it up and command you to silence,” Connor said.
Sean calmly met Connor’s gaze.
“I’m not angry with Noah,” Connor said. At least not as much, he thought to himself.
“Yes, sir,” Sean said.
“Is that a ‘yes, sir’ or an ‘if you say so, sir’?”
A small smirk snuck onto Sean’s face. “Yes, sir,” he replied mildly.
The smirk reminded Connor of Ashley. “Well played, Major. Your mother would be proud.”
“I’ve learned from the best, sir.”
Connor looked back at his holoscreen. They were on final approach to the main hangar. He was overdue to inspect Phoenix Station, and Connor suspected the reason for Tobias and Franklin suggesting it was due in part to the lengthy travel time out to the station. Mandatory downtime, as it were.
“Colonel Cross will meet us in the hangar, sir,” Sean said.
Connor nodded and closed down the holoscreen. His stomach tightened as the combat shuttle entered Phoenix Station’s gravity field. The main hangar was designed to be in a permanent vacuum, which conserved resources by not requiring the hangar to be depressurized every time a ship needed to land. The pilot flew the shuttle to the landing pad, and the auto-dock extended to the rear hatch. There were several knocks as the auto-dock sealed against the hatch and the indicator light went from red to green.
Connor exited the shuttle first. CDF personnel in full dress uniforms lined the way forward to where Colonel Savannah Cross waited to greet him. The lines of soldiers saluted Connor as he took his first steps onto Phoenix Station. Connor returned their salutes.
“Welcome to Phoenix Station, General,” Colonel Cross said.
She stood ramrod straight and had a burning intensity to her gaze. Savannah was like Connor in that they were both workhorses. Shortly after the Vemus attack, he’d assigned the Banshee’s commanding officer to Phoenix, and she hadn’t disappointed him in the slightest.
“Thank you, Colonel,” Connor replied.
Connor glanced at the CDF officers near Colonel Cross and noted that her XO was nowhere in sight. He made a mental nod of approval. No doubt Colonel Cross had kept Major Elder on the main bridge of the station. Though they were at Condition Three, maintaining combat readiness was paramount to their survival. Connor had browsed the station’s records on the way here and knew that Colonel Cross dedicated a significant amount of time to combat drills. She was determined to be as prepared as humanly possible for the next engagement with the Vemus.
“General, if you will follow me, I’m prepared to give you a tour of our primary systems for the main section of the station,” Colonel Cross said.
“Excellent, Colonel. I’m looking forward to it,” Connor said.
They kept to the main section of the station because it would have been impractical to tour the other eight subsections. He was here to check that operations of the station were running smoothly, not to visit every nook and cranny of the station, which would have taken him weeks.
For the next several hours, Savannah led Connor through Phoenix Station, meeting the crew. Some of them had served on Titan Station and, having survived, pushed to be part of this station. The former Titan Station soldiers knew what was at stake. They’d faced the Vemus before. In all Connor’s years in the military, he found that the CDF soldier showed a level of dedication normally reserved for an elite few he had observed in his military career.
He was reminded of Wil and Kasey throughout the tour. He remembered doing a similar inspection of
Titan, and while Wil and Kasey had been completely professional, there’d been an underlying camaraderie that Connor missed. Kasey had been his second in command since his days with the Ghosts. Wil had been an outstanding intelligence officer who had a singular talent for finding his way around almost any obstacle. Connor was at home around people in uniform, be it the NA Alliance Military or, as now, the Colonial Defense Force, but there were so many missing faces that he would have liked to see.
Colonel Savannah Cross was an exemplary military officer. Given that there were only about three hundred thousand colonists, Connor hadn’t been sure what caliber of military personnel he’d be able to find among them, especially since one of the driving forces for the Ark program had been to limit any military presence in the colony. Circumstances had changed all that, and Connor was struck by how well the colonists had risen to protect their future. A strong will to survive was embedded in human nature, along with the tenacity to overcome obstacles and become what they needed for survival. It was both awe-inspiring and concerning how quickly humans could go from being civilized to adapting to war in a short span of time.
“We dedicate this part of the station to weapons engineering and development,” Colonel Cross said.
Most of Phoenix Station’s mass was to support weapons systems, so when they went into the open area, Connor was surprised at the extensive amount of activity.
Connor looked at Colonel Cross. “What’s going on here?”
“We had a number of soldiers who had ideas for our current weapons systems to simply repurpose what we’ve already got. It started out as a small group of soldiers collaborating in their off-duty hours,” Colonel Cross said, and there was no mistaking the pride in her voice.
The CDF soldiers began to notice they had an audience, and one of them detached himself from the group. He was a bull of a man, which had inspired the designation Connor had given him when he’d been part of Search and Rescue.
“Captain Randle,” Connor said and glanced around at the all the construction bots that were in various states of retrofit.
