Nemesis (First Colony Book 2)

by Ken Lozito

  “Nathan, come inside,” Connor said, rising from his seat. “I was glad to hear about your recovery.”

  Major Hayes stepped inside. He still looked a bit pale, like he could use several healthy meals and more sleep.

  “Sir, I’m no good to you lying in bed,” Major Hayes said.

  Connor glanced at the man’s hands. They were sometimes fidgety and then sometimes clenched.

  “You’ve been through a lot,” Connor said.

  “I got to walk away. I’m ready to resume my duties as XO, sir,” Major Hayes said.

  “Alright, I’ll bring you up to speed, but there’s something I need to know first,” Connor said.

  “I told Dr. Allen everything I could remember. Colonel Howe and I were just finishing up our meal and he collapsed to the floor,” Major Hayes said.

  “I’m aware of that, but what I want to know is if you know of anyone who has voiced an opinion that makes you question whether they should be on this ship,” Connor said.

  Major Hayes looked away, taking a second to think about it. “Nothing comes to mind. Some people become frustrated from time to time, but there’ve been no red flags that indicate anyone is unfit for duty, sir.”

  Connor nodded. “I keep hearing the same thing from other officers, but I wanted to confirm with you.”

  “The Vigilant has a good crew. How’s the investigation going?” Major Hayes asked.

  “Ongoing, I’m afraid. We’ve started questioning crewmen about their whereabouts on that day and we’ve been scanning the interior of the ship for trace amounts of radioactive material,” Connor said.

  “And this scouting mission? Is there anything I need to know about that, sir?”

  Connor told Major Hayes about the anomaly that had been detected by the PRADIS system on Titan Space Station and how they’d confirmed it on their own system, but the anomaly hadn’t shown up again.

  “So that’s why we’re traveling at such a slow speed,” Major Hayes said.

  “I just want to take a look,” Connor replied.

  “And when will we reach the end of the envelope for this scouting mission?”

  “In eight hours. At that time, if nothing’s been detected, we’ll turn around and head back to Titan Space Station,” Connor said.

  Major Hayes traced the stubble of his mustache and beard. “I saw in the logs that you’ve ordered engineering crews to modify the HADES IV missiles.”

  “Yes, but we can only modify twenty percent of our arsenal. Engineer Hatly came up with an alternative. It’s not as good as the actual upgrades, but it helps,” Connor said.

  He brought up a holoscreen and opened a high-level schematic of the HADES IV. “See, the proposed upgrades add systems to the existing missiles. What we’re doing with the missiles we can’t upgrade is updating the command-and-control software so it will accept updates to targeting from the HADES IV-B missiles,” Connor said.

  Major Hayes read the information on screen. “This is really something. You’re making the unmodified HADES IVs slaves to the HADES IV-Bs. Too bad we can’t increase the range of PRADIS. Don’t you think we should have detected something by now?”

  “I expected us to detect something several hours away from Titan, but that wasn’t the case,” Connor said and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t need much sleep but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had some rack time.

  “So in eight hours we turn around and go back home,” Major Hayes said.

  “That’s correct. We know that PRADIS is less accurate at extreme distances,” Connor said.

  “I understand now, sir.”

  Connor powered off the holoscreen and stood up. “I’m due to relieve Colonel Reisman for the next watch.”

  Major Hayes came to his feet. “Do you mind if I take this watch, sir?”

  Connor glanced at the major for a moment. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Alright, you take this shift. I’ll be along in a few hours to take over,” Connor said.

  “Understood, sir,” Major Hayes said and headed for the bridge.

  Connor stood up and thought about going to his quarters. “Dim the lights,” he said.

  He sat on the long couch and then lay down. After setting an alarm to wake him in two hours’ time, Connor closed his eyes and went to sleep.

  The alarm gently pulled Connor from a deep sleep, but years of training kicked in and he was fully awake in moments. He swung his legs off the couch and stood up, walked to the head, and waved his hand in front of the faucet to activate it. He splashed cool water on his face and rinsed his mouth out.

  Connor used his implants to reconnect to the Vigilant’s computer systems and narrowed his gaze at the ship’s status. He quickly dried his hands and face and left the ready room. He strode onto the bridge and saw Major Hayes speaking with Lieutenant LaCroix.

  “Sir, I’m not following. PRADIS should already be able to detect what you’re asking me to do,” Lieutenant LaCroix said.

  Major Hayes glanced over at Connor for a moment and then looked back at LaCroix. “Just get it ready, Lieutenant,” Major Hayes said.

  “Yes, sir,” LaCroix said and went back to the tactical workstation.

  Connor approached the command area. “Why are we stopping?”

  “Playing a hunch. If you’ll allow it, I can explain,” Major Hayes said.

  Connor’s brows pulled together angrily. He had very little patience for his orders being countermanded. “This had better be some hunch,” Connor warned.

  The door to the bridge opened and Wil Reisman raced in.

  “General,” Colonel Reisman said, “Major Hayes checked with me before making any changes.”

  Connor smoothed his features and nodded at Major Hayes. “Alright, give it to me straight.”

  “Prior to this mission, Colonel Howe and I were working on fine-tuning the PRADIS detection system. We were actually talking about it when . . . we got sick. This anomaly disappeared once we detected it on our PRADIS systems. We know that the accuracy of PRADIS is significantly reduced when hitting the fringes of its range. It got me thinking: what if the anomaly we first detected is able to cloak itself somehow and become invisible to PRADIS?” Major Hayes said.

  “You can’t cloak a fleet of ships. The NA Alliance military spent stupendous amounts of resources trying to achieve what you’re saying and failed to do so,” Connor replied.

  “You’re right, we can’t, but perhaps someone else could,” Major Hayes said.

  Connor felt his stomach clench at the thought. “You’ve got my attention, Major.”

  Major Hayes nodded, clearly relieved that Connor was going to hear him out. “You had us moving at a slower speed already as a precautionary measure. What I ordered our taskforce to do was to slow us down even further so we’re now moving at a fraction of our former speed. You see, our forward motion can interfere with PRADIS detections.”

  “This is the first I’m hearing of this,” Connor said.

  Colonel Reisman raised his hands in front of his chest. “Give him a chance to explain.”

  Connor nodded for Hayes to continue.

  “PRADIS looks for a hard return in order to register a contact; then our cyber warfare suite attempts to catalog the detection with known vessels. This didn’t work before and we didn’t get enough of a signature to be of any use. So, instead of using PRADIS to scan for active contacts, I have LaCroix updating the parameters to look for evidence of ship wakes instead,” Major Hayes said.

  Connor frowned as he thought about it. “So you think that if there is a fleet of enemy ships out there that can avoid contact with PRADIS, they’ll be unable to mask the effects of their ships flying through space?”

  “Precisely,” Major Hayes said.

  Connor glanced at Reisman, who gave him an I-told-you-so look. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

  He wasn’t going to start congratulating anyone just yet, but Connor had to admit that i
t seemed like a clever tactic.

  “Tactical, what’s the status of PRADIS?” Major Hayes asked.

  “The PRADIS system has accepted the updated parameters, sir,” LaCroix answered.

  “Put the output on the main wallscreen,” Major Hayes said.

  The PRADIS output showed a three-dimensional field out away from the Vigilant. Nothing showed up in the scanning field. Connor and the rest of the bridge crew watched for a few minutes. He glanced at Reisman and arched an eyebrow, but then there was an audible chime. Connor’s gaze snapped toward the main holoscreen, which showed the first contact. Another contact quickly followed, until the chimes for additional contacts detected became almost one continuous stream. Each chime was like a shot to the gut, describing what could only be the wake of a massive fleet coming right toward them.

  The PRADIS output continued to show the wake fields of starship engines. Connor darted his gaze to the data output on the PRADIS system.

  “They’re not going very fast,” Colonel Reisman said.

  Connor went to the command chair. “They don’t need to if they think we can’t see them,” he said and brought up the ship command interface. “Action stations, action stations. Set Condition One throughout the ship. This is not a drill.”

  Connor heard Sergeant Boers repeat the ship alert as she transmitted to the battle group.

  “Tactical, I want a firing solution for that group nearest us and the main group,” Connor said.

  “Sir, it’s going to take a few minutes because PRADIS is just finding the engine wakes and not the actual ships themselves,” Lieutenant LaCroix said.

  “Understood, Lieutenant. I need those solutions as soon as you have them. Major Hayes, please double-check the firing solutions once they’re ready,” Connor said.

  “General, may I have a word?” Colonel Reisman asked.

  Connor gestured for him to come closer. “Comms, I need our targeting data sent to both the Banshee and the Wyatt.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sergeant Boers said.

  Reisman leaned in and spoke softly. “Sir, should we spend more time learning about the potential hostiles?”

  Connor frowned. “Potential hostiles,” he repeated. “The fact that they’re trying to sneak up on us pretty much states their intent.”

  “Understood, sir, but we’re not exactly sure what we’re dealing with. I’m just trying to say that we should take a few moments and see if we can learn more about them,” Colonel Reisman said.

  Connor pursed his lips in thought. “We have an opportunity here. If we start sending probes to take a closer look, we’ll give away the fact that we know their positions. I’d much rather send a stronger message.”

  Connor watched as his long-time friend tried to come up with another argument for delaying the inevitable.

  “I know what you’re saying, Wil, but the criteria for engagement have been met. Hails have already been sent from Titan Space Station, and if this force intended to answer, they would have done so by now,” Connor said.

  Reisman swallowed hard. “Yes, General.”

  “Tactical, I need that firing solution,” Connor said.

  Connor watched as Major Hayes and Lieutenant LaCroix worked. After a few moments Major Hayes looked over at Connor. “We have a solution, sir, but it’s not pretty.”

  “Let’s have it,” Connor said.

  “We send the first wave of HORNETs into the area we expect the enemy ships are and hold the HADES IVs in reserve until we can confirm targeting,” Major Hayes said.

  Connor brought up LaCroix’s console on his own screen. “Negative, Major, lead with the HORNETs, then hit them immediately after with the HADES IVs. No delay. Relay the firing solution to the rest of the battle group.”

  “Yes, sir,” Major Hayes said.

  Less than a minute later, he heard, “Weapons systems ready, sir.”

  “Fire,” Connor said.

  The Panther-class heavy cruisers were similar in construction to most of the other warships humans fielded. The hull was roughly cigar shaped, though flattened to provide a narrower side profile and a wider top and bottom upon which to mount the super structure and the mag-cannon turrets. Between the turrets were the missile tubes, which at this moment were launching the first salvo of HORNETs. The mid-range missiles were being used to paint the targets.

  Connor watched the countdown for the HADES IVs.

  “Targeting profile uploaded to the HADES IVs to track the HORNETs, sir,” Lieutenant LaCroix said.

  “Very well,” Connor said.

  The timer chewed down to zero and then the HADES IV missiles launched. Connor looked at the statuses for the two destroyers. They were ready to fire but were waiting.

  “Helm, plot a course back to Titan Space Station,” Connor said and looked back at the plot as the missiles fully engaged their engines. Missile systems were delayed from main engine burst to make it harder for the enemy to determine where they’d been fired from.

  “Comms, send a data burst back to Titan Space Station with our current status,” Connor said.

  “Yes, sir, sending now,” Sergeant Boers said.

  Connor looked at Reisman. “Now, we wait.”

  “You don’t want the Banshee and the Wyatt to fire their missiles?” Colonel Reisman asked.

  Connor shook his head. “No, I want them to fire theirs on the second wave after the enemy has given away their position.”

  Connor noted the time after the missiles began their initial burn. “Ops, begin visual scans of the enemy force with the high-power optics.”

  “Sir, I’m not able to get confirmation that Titan Space Station has received our data burst,” Sergeant Boers said.

  Connor peered at the main screen. “Request current status of the Banshee and the Wyatt.”

  Connor watched as Sergeant Boers did as he asked. She looked back at him helplessly.

  “Sir, it’s the same thing. We’re sending the data, but we’re unable to get confirmation.”

  Connor glanced at Reisman and saw the same grim acknowledgment on his face that he was feeling.

  “Sir, the Banshee has just gone offline—make that the Wyatt, too. Both destroyers are no longer reporting,” Sergeant Boers said with rising panic in her voice.

  “We’re being jammed,” Connor said.

  Reisman’s eyes widened.

  “Helm, all ahead one half. Go evasive,” Connor said.

  “Confirmed, all ahead one half, evasive,” Sergeant Edwards said.

  “Contact!” Lieutenant LaCroix said.

  Connor’s eyes darted to the main screen. For an instant, the screen showed a looming, irregularly shaped mass that Connor thought could be an asteroid or other natural formation.

  “Sir, target is maneuvering,” Lieutenant LaCroix reported.

  “Engage point defense systems. Target that ship,” Connor ordered.

  “Sir, the target is appearing on PRADIS now,” Lieutenant LaCroix said.

  “They must have realized we can see them. What’s the status of our missiles?” Connor asked.

  “No confirmed status sent back to us,” Ops reported.

  “Sergeant Boers, prepare a comms drone for quick launch back to Titan Space Station. We need to inform COMCENT that we’ve encountered a new enemy,” Connor said.

  “Yes, sir,” the normally unflappable Sela Boers said in a trembling voice. “Drone is ready.”

  “Launch it. Now!” Connor said.

  The drone launch registered on the main screen and then the alert immediately minimized.

  “Sir, I have sensors back,” LaCroix said.

  “Reload the tubes and target that ship,” Connor said.

  “Sir, I have confirmed detonation of missiles,” Ops reported.

  “Put it on screen,” Connor said.

  The main screen showed multiple detonations along the front of the main enemy forces. They must have moved beyond the enemy ship’s jamming signal or they wouldn’t be seeing anything. The PRADIS contact was
intermittent, so it was clear they were trying to get another lock on them.

  More missiles appeared on the main screen, fired from the Banshee and the Wyatt. Connor watched the seemingly pathetically slow tracks creep across the main display as the computer opened another window to show the Vigilant in relation to the enemy ships.

  “Ops, do we have another visual?” Connor asked.

  “Negative, sir. With the detonation of our missiles, it’s going to take some time to filter it out,” Ops replied.

  “Multiple targets are on the move. They’re tracking toward us,” LaCroix said.

  “They’re moving pretty fast. Are the missiles updating their targeting profile?”

  “Yes, sir,” Tactical reported. “Tubes one through eight are reloaded.”

  “Target the ship tracking us,” Connor said.

  “Missiles away, sir,” LaCroix said.

  The enemy ship didn’t try and dodge or intercept the missiles bearing down on it. The hardened nose cones of the HADES IVs slammed into the organic-looking hull of the target. The engines would fire one more time to maximize penetration before detonating the warhead. A bright flash swamped the main screen as multiple missiles bombarded the target. Once the flash cleared, the Vigilant’s optical sensors showed the enemy ship’s hull peeled back where the missiles had hit it.

  “Sir, I’m getting intermittent transmissions from the Wyatt,” Sergeant Boers said with a hand held to her earpiece and her brows pulled together in concentration. “It’s messy, sir. Something about . . . repelling boarders.”

  Connor’s gaze darted to Reisman. “That’s why they haven’t returned fire yet.”

  “Maybe, or they could just be seeing what we throw at them,” Colonel Reisman said.

  “Sir, the Wyatt is offline,” Ops reported.

  “Could they be jamming us again?” Colonel Reisman asked.

  “Negative, sir. The signal is clear. One moment they were there and now only the enemy ship is there,” Tactical said.

  “Helm, can you plot an intercept course?” Connor asked.

  “Negative, sir, not with that enemy behemoth bearing down on us,” Edwards replied.