by Ken Lozito
“When do you plan to leave?” Senleon asked.
“As soon as I’m done here. We have troop carrier transports that will bring us to the city where we can begin our reconnaissance,” Connor said.
Vitory stepped forward. “You expect us to send Ovarrow with you into a dangerous situation?”
“We would protect them.”
“We are rebuilding and need all available Ovarrow to work toward that effort. Our answer is no,” Vitory said.
Connor was about to reply when he received a comlink request from Samson.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“We found four buildings in the same state. The burn marks are consistent with an overloaded Ovarrow power cell. Sergeant Ellison believes this is sabotage, and I’m inclined to agree with her.”
Connor glanced at Vitory and brought up an image of the building that had been destroyed. “I’ve noticed that there are several buildings like this. Is there anything I can help you with?”
The warlord bared his teeth and Connor knew he’d struck a nerve. It seemed that the Ovarrow were dealing with a struggle of their own.
“We don’t need your help.”
“Maybe not, but you certainly didn’t repay the help that’s already been given to you. I think some of you would come with us, if given the chance,” Connor said and glanced at the warlord’s First. Cerot looked away. “We’ll camp outside the city for one night and then leave in the morning. If any of your people would like to join us, they would be welcome.”
Connor waited for the translator to finish and then turned and walked away. Dash quickly followed him, and after a few moments, their soldier escorts caught up to them and took up positions surrounding them.
“Dammit,” Connor said. “You’d think they’d want to know about this other group. Why wouldn’t they want to communicate with their own people?”
“I agree with you, but the Ovarrow are stubborn, and they’re not like us. What makes sense to us is foreign to them.”
Connor told Dash about the other buildings that had been destroyed. “They could be in the middle of some kind of rebellion, or perhaps the factions are striving for dominance.”
“Did you notice their reaction to the mention of the Ovarrow who hadn't gone into stasis?”
Connor shook his head. “I was too busy watching them freak out about the Krake and the fact that we use an arch.”
“I noticed that, too, but they looked ashamed.”
Connor frowned in thought for a moment. “Why would they be ashamed?”
Dash shrugged. “Well, think about it. The world is ending around you and you have a way to weather out the storm, but not everyone can be saved. Then you wake up hundreds of years later and find out there’s a group that was supposed to have died but instead they found a way to survive. Everyone who went into stasis left somebody behind. How would you feel if you woke up from all that? Maybe they just need a little bit of time.”
Connor had to admit that there was some validity to Dash’s argument. “I still feel like I’m wasting my time with them, and I don’t know why they won’t help us. Why can’t they understand what’s at stake?”
Dash remained quiet as they walked, and Connor sent a message to Samson that they were on their way back. Connor remembered the early days when the colonists had been building their colony, and he understood that the Ovarrow were also working hard to make this settlement work for them; but surely they could spare a few of their kind to come with them and contribute as delegates of some sort. Even if they were ashamed or were suffering from some kind of survivor’s guilt, it didn't change the fact that sooner or later they'd cross paths with these other Ovarrow.
“Vitory seemed to regard that other group of Ovarrow as a threat,” Connor said.
Dash pursed his lips and shrugged.
Maybe it was better that they didn’t come with him. With or without the Ovarrow's help, he needed to keep pushing forward. But if all the Ovarrow reacted with an instant roadblock to any type of effort that involved learning more about the Krake, he wasn’t sure how much help they were going to be. Why did it seem that the Ovarrow just wanted to pretend the Krake didn’t exist, or was it that they had a different plan for dealing with the Krake when they arrived? Connor had no doubt that at some point the Krake were going to find their world. He glanced at the Ovarrow soldiers with them, and they kept their eyes forward. They were escorting them to the barricade, but he wished he could tell what they were thinking.
He felt his shoulders become tight with a very dark thought. What if when the Krake arrived, the Ovarrow chose to form an alliance with them? The Colonial Security Council assumed that since they'd brought them out of stasis and helped them reestablish themselves, the Ovarrow would naturally align with the colony, but could they be wrong? If the Ovarrow perceived that their survival was better served with the Krake, then they'd do what they thought was best for their people.
Connor clenched his teeth on those thoughts. He’d rather die on his feet than live on his knees, and he would’ve thought that anyone who'd gone to such lengths to survive would feel the same way. They couldn’t form an alliance with the Krake. Connor pressed his lips together. Lars Mallory was convinced that the Ovarrow couldn't be trusted. What if Lars had been right? But he couldn’t make sweeping judgments like that. If the Ovarrow chose to side with the Krake, then the colony would deal with that, too, but Connor refused to count them out until they made their intentions known.
6
The Ovarrow soldiers escorted them as far as the barricades, and then Connor and Dash returned to the CDF camp.
Dash looked at Connor. “Do you mind if I write up a report to send back to Darius? I just want to tell him what we observed in the city.”
“That’s fine with me,” Connor answered, regarding the young man for a moment. “I have nothing to hide, Dash.”
“I know that, but sometimes . . .” he let the thought go unfinished for a few seconds. “I just learned that sometimes the timing of when reports are filed also has its place. It's just that this is a new development where the Ovarrow are concerned and, uh . . . Darius should know about it. I mean, they’ve been trying to keep tabs on them, but there's only so much you can see through the video feed from the occasional reconnaissance drone.”
Dash walked away and began recording his thoughts into a log.
Samson came and found Connor. “I'd like a word in private, General.”
They walked a short distance away from the others, and Connor looked at his friend. “What’s on your mind?”
“Off the record?” Samson said, and Connor nodded. “You’re playing this a little fast and loose, aren’t you?”
“I know you didn’t like that I went into the city alone, but I don’t think they would've let us in otherwise.”
“We could’ve waited for them to allow it. It was reckless, and it’s my job to point that out to you.”
Connor had just wanted to get to the city and speak to the Ovarrow. “I acknowledge that there was some risk involved, but that’s to be expected.”
“Is that so? You expected the sabotaged buildings we found in there? There’s something going on with the Ovarrow. If this was some kind of stronghold, I’d say they had an insurgency problem, but this is the Ovarrow. I know we’re not supposed to associate their behaviors with ours, but I don’t know what else it can be.”
“You're right; I wasn’t expecting that. Next time, I’ll insist that a squad comes with me,” Connor said.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Samson said. He rested his hands on his hips and arched his back in a stretch. “So, none of them are going to help us?”
Samson didn’t come right out and say it, but the fact that the Ovarrow had once again refused to help them was becoming an issue.
“I know they have some very real challenges, but I’m getting kinda tired of this,” Connor admitted. “But I can’t do much about it unless we start abducting them.”
Samso
n tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips as if the idea had merit. He shrugged. “If things are so bad that they can't even send a small squad with us, this might be a blessing in disguise. We have enough to worry about without bringing an Ovarrow squad to the table.”
“It’s not that simple,” Connor said. “The Ovarrow don’t rush to make decisions. That’s why I told them I’d wait around until tomorrow.”
Samson grunted. “Want to make a wager?”
Connor shook his head.
They made camp, posted sentries, and programmed a few recon drones to patrol the area. Connor didn’t want anyone sneaking up on them. As the evening settled in, they could see lights coming from the city. Connor kept mulling over the day’s events in his mind. He'd expected the Ovarrow to want to seek out others of their own kind, but that hadn't been the case. They were so guarded. Wouldn’t they be interested in seeking out these others and then deciding whether or not they were enemies?
Frustrated with that line of thinking, he turned his attention to planning how they were going to look for the other Ovarrow. Sometime later, Private Colson came to seek him out, saying there was a group of Mekaal soldiers requesting to see him.
Connor walked to the middle of the camp where he saw six Ovarrow soldiers wearing dark armor. They were armed, but CDF soldiers nearby nullified any threat. An Ovarrow translation station was already set up, and Connor saw the warlord’s First walk to the console.
Lenora had saved Cerot’s life, and the Ovarrow knew that Lenora and Connor were married, which had been translated from "union" in Ovarrow nomenclature. The translators were based on the Ovarrow machine language used in their computers.
“General Gates, we would like to come with you to search for more of our people,” Cerot said.
Connor read the message and regarded the young Ovarrow for a few moments. The warlord’s First was related to the warlord. Connor wasn’t exactly sure how the two were related, but there was definitely a family resemblance. He also understood that there was a rigid hierarchy among the Ovarrow.
“Does the warlord or high commissioner know you're here?” Connor asked.
The question appeared on the holoscreen, and all six Ovarrow glanced at each other for a brief moment before waiting for Cerot to answer.
“I am here to repay a debt. These Mekaal are here with me to also repay a debt,” Cerot said.
Connor frowned in thought and gestured for Dash join him. “What do you make of this?”
“I think that at least three of them were trapped on the bridge with Lenora.”
The Mekaal soldiers looked a bit on the young side, and Connor began to think this was some kind of a "rebellious youth" thing, but he needed the help. He glanced at Samson.
“You need to utilize the resources you’ve got. We need help, and they’re here to help. Do you really want to send them back?” Samson said.
“Why the hesitation?” Dash asked.
“When someone is telling you something that’s too good to be true, then it usually is,” Connor said and turned back to Cerot. “I’ll let you come as long as you understand that you will do exactly as I say. Is this understood?”
Cerot read the message and didn’t look at the other soldiers. “We will obey your commands, General.”
Connor glanced back at the city. There were some colonists who thought they were too accommodating with the Ovarrow. In this case, he doubted Cerot had gotten permission to join them, but he didn’t care anymore.
He began issuing orders to break camp. They'd be leaving as soon as possible. Then he drafted a message to both the warlord and the high commissioner, informing them of the situation. He timed the message to be sent after they left the camp. They would be well away by the time it was received.
7
Connor walked up the loading ramp of the troop carrier alpha, which was a beast of a ship. Calling it a mere troop carrier was a bit of a disservice. It could also haul equipment and had heavy armor but minimal weapons. It was an endurance vehicle meant to take damage. He walked over to Dash, who'd become the self-appointed liaison with the Ovarrow. Samson joined him.
“I was just trying to give them an idea about what to expect. I’m pretty sure none of the Ovarrow have flown above the atmosphere before,” Dash said.
The quickest way to reach a city that was over twelve thousand kilometers away was to breach the atmosphere and then reenter. Connor also wanted to educate the Ovarrow on what their capabilities were. He expected that they'd report these events back to their leadership.
“Are these names correct?” Samson asked.
Connor frowned for a moment and then brought up his own internal heads-up display. A jumble of letters appeared next to each of the Ovarrow soldiers. Cerot was easily pronounced, but the others were a mouthful. He looked at Dash. “Is that the best we can do?”
“It’s just an approximation based on the translator.”
Samson shook his head. “I can’t even pronounce that,” he said and gave Connor a look.
“I think we can do better,” Connor said and accessed the translator interface. He gestured toward the nearest Ovarrow and worked his way around, pointing at each one as he did. “Now you’re Joe, Felix, Luca.” He paused for a moment, frowning in thought. “Esteban.”
“Esteban? Are you serious?” Samson asked.
Connor shrugged and turned his attention back to the Ovarrow. There was one left. “Wesley,” he said. Samson gave him a monstrous glare but didn’t say anything. “That should work. I updated the translator interface to associate with the new names.”
One of the Ovarrow made a sound that almost sounded like "Joe," but he could have been clearing his throat.
“I should’ve thought of something like that. I was just trying to accurately translate what they were saying,” Dash said.
Samson stormed off, muttering under his breath.
“What’s wrong with him?” Dash asked.
“He doesn’t approve of one of the names.”
Dash glanced in the direction the big man had gone. “Why? What does he care?” Dash asked, and then his eyes widened. “One of those is his first name, isn’t it?”
Connor feigned indifference. “I can neither confirm nor deny. I invite you to ask him, but just make sure you wait awhile. I wouldn’t ask him here. Leave yourself plenty of room to run.”
Dash shook his head with a bit of a nervous grin. “That’s all right. I don’t really want to know that badly.”
Looking at Cerot and the others, Connor activated the translator. “Enjoy the ride and listen to Dash,” he said, giving Dash a companionable pat on the shoulder.
Cerot gave him an awkward nod, which he must’ve picked up from being around humans. The Ovarrow rested his large, four-fingered hands in his lap. His forearms were heavily muscled, giving them incredibly strong grip strength.
Connor glanced at the others, who all appeared a bit nervous, except for Esteban. He seemed to be focused on taking in his surroundings. Connor walked toward the front of the troop carrier and sat down next to Samson. The Spec Ops captain didn’t look up.
“You couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could you?”
“Do you know what the betting pool is for your first name? I gave him a one-in-five chance of getting it right, and it’s only Dash who knows.”
Samson snorted.
“You could’ve changed it at any time. Do you know how many times I get asked about it? You should pay me a monthly stipend just for keeping it from everyone else.”
“What’s with the name Esteban?”
Connor smiled. “It’s just something Diaz used to do. When he couldn’t remember somebody’s name, he just called them Esteban.”
Connor missed his friend but understood why he'd chosen to step away from the CDF for a while. Diaz had come dangerously close to dying. He had five kids—four daughters and a son—and Connor knew them all. A former Marine who had worked in law enforcement back on Old Earth, Diaz had
been one of Connor's first friends in the colony and was definitely someone who'd watch your back. Connor was thankful he hadn't had to inform his friend’s wife that her husband wouldn’t be coming home. That scared him more than he cared to admit.
Since rejoining the CDF, Connor was determined to balance his personal life with his work. It had been simpler when it was just him and Lenora, but when Lauren was born, things had changed. He had changed. He found that he didn’t like leaving home so much because he wanted to be around his daughter. Before rejoining the CDF, he’d imagined that he'd be able to do things with whatever family he had because he wasn’t a soldier anymore. Lenora had hinted at wanting to get back to fieldwork, which Connor also enjoyed. He liked exploring New Earth, but learning about the Krake had changed all that. It was something he couldn’t ignore. Sometimes he thought about letting someone else take the reins and deal with the Krake. He'd trained a lot of people when they created the Colonial Defense Force. It wasn’t like when they’d first arrived on this planet. The CDF had been created out of necessity by people who weren’t soldiers in their previous lives back on Old Earth. They could do their jobs very well, but no one had the experience Connor had. He’d been a soldier most of his life.
“The other three troop carriers are en route,” Samson said.
“The best way for us to cover the most ground is to split up into three groups. One of the groups can do aerial reconnaissance while the rest of us explore the city,” Connor said.
He activated the nearest holoscreen and brought up an image of the city, highlighting the areas the previous CDF team had already explored. “They weren’t able to find them after our initial encounter. We left recon drones there for a few days, which gave us a map of the city, but we need both boots on the ground and eyes in the sky if we’re going to find them.”
“No one has been back since?” Samson asked.
Connor shook his head. “No time. We’re the first.”