by Ken Lozito
“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.
“General,” Captain Wayne Randle said. “I’m glad you made it here.”
“What are you doing to the construction bots?” Connor asked.
A hungry gleam appeared in Randle’s eyes. “We had a surplus of machines that were part of the drone workforce, so I thought I’d make use of them. These construction bots were built for salvage, and since we’re not doing much of that anymore, I’m fitting them with a one-meter storage bay,” Captain Randle said.
Connor took a closer look at one of the bots. The storage bay extended from the back and the robotic arms were tucked away for extra storage. Realizing the potential of what Randle had created, Connor smiled.
“They can penetrate the hull of a ship and deliver their payload. They’re not reusable, but they can get into some pretty tight places that would be hard to detect,” Captain Randle said.
“What’s their range?” Connor asked.
“Two hundred thousand kilometers. As long as we paint the target, they can do the rest,” Captain Randle said.
Connor glanced at Colonel Cross. “You authorized this?”
“Yes, General,” Colonel Cross said.
“How many more projects
like these have you got going on?” Connor asked.
“We have a few others like this. Mostly, the crew is dedicated to the established weapons systems, but for these rare gems I thought it prudent to allow some good old-fashioned ingenuity, sir,” Colonel Cross said.
Connor nodded. “Excellent work.”
Captain Randle looked relieved.
“I mean it. It’s efforts like this that will help us the most in the long run,” Connor said.
He heard a chime from the nearby speakers.
“Colonel Cross, please report to the bridge,” a computerized voice said.
Colonel Cross frowned and then sent her acknowledgment. “General, we were going to end our tour at the bridge, but something must have come up.”
“Indeed, Colonel. Let’s get to the bridge,” Connor said.
Colonel Cross’s face suddenly became ashen, and she pressed her lips together.
“Are you feeling alright?” Connor asked.
Colonel Cross’s cheeks reddened for a moment. “I’m fine. Just felt a bit of nausea for a second.”
They proceeded to the bridge of the main section of Phoenix Station. Though Phoenix Station was comprised of the last major section of the Ark, the bridge was entirely new construction. Workstations were being manned for all the major systems that would be found on a ship. Major John Elder stood in the command area that was slightly elevated above the workstations.
Connor glanced at the main holoscreen and saw a PRADIS scope on the screen. On the edge of the star system was a detected anomaly. The anomaly was in a quadrant far away from where Titan Station had been.
“Situation report,” Colonel Cross said.
“The anomaly just appeared, ma’am. PRADIS indicates that it’s over twenty kilometers across. We’re repositioning tactical drones to get a better reading of it,” Major Elder said.
“Could this just be a large asteroid?” Connor asked.
He didn’t believe it was but needed to ask the question just to be sure.
“We’re not sure, General. We’re double-checking this anomaly against the known large asteroids already mapped in the system,” Major Elder said.
“It’s not an asteroid,” Major Quinn said.
Connor looked over at Sean.
“It just changed course as of the last PRADIS sweep, so either it hit something large that forced it to change course or someone is flying it,” Major Quinn said.
Connor glanced back at the main holoscreen. Sean was right. Connor felt his stomach sink to his feet. Their time was just about out.
Chapter Eight
Colonel Nathan Hayes sat in his office at Lunar Base and glanced over at the cylindrical aquarium that used to belong to his commanding officer on the Vigilant. Ian Howe had loved the aquarium, which was home to several species of brightly colored fish, and Nathan kept the aquarium as a tribute to his friend and mentor who had died aboard ship. To help him unwind at the end of a long day, Nathan would turn the lights out in his office and leave the interior lights of the aquarium on. The small bands of reflected light and soft sounds of churning water provided a taste of being planet-side, and it helped keep him anchored.
Nathan left his office and began to make his way toward the residential modules at Lunar Base. New Earth had one moon that was in orbit three hundred and twenty thousand kilometers away from the planet. They’d been able to tunnel into the softer sections of the crust and currently housed over two thousand people on base. They’d already been expanding the base before the Vemus attack, but since then Nathan had been tasked with minimizing base operations on the surface.
He came to the elevator that would take him to the residential modules, where a shower and a warm meal would be waiting for him, but he had a thought that caused him to hesitate before pushing the button. Instead, he used his neural implants to check the duty roster for the Command Center and saw that Major Shelton was on duty. Nathan sighed. Major Shelton was new to Lunar Base and Nathan wanted to see how she was settling in. He also liked to observe all his officers on duty. Nathan retreated from the elevators and started to make his way to the Command Center.
As Nathan entered the room, Major Vanessa Shelton acknowledged his presence by standing up from the command chair. She glanced at her workstation, and Nathan noted that her worried expression had nothing to do with him being there but with the alert on her screen.
“Sir, I was about to contact you. Blackout protocol has been authorized. We’re to cease all surface activities immediately and restrict communications to direct laser communications only,” Major Shelton said.
Nathan frowned. DLC was old technology that could be used over long and short distances but was highly susceptible to being intercepted and spoofed. Nathan wasn’t sure whether the Vemus could detect a DLC beam, but the concept was simple and they needed to be very careful. He leaned in so he could see Major Shelton’s screen, quickly using his implants to confirm that the message from CDF COMCENT was authentic. DLC would limit their comms capabilities, but it also minimized the risk of their base being detected by the Vemus since they weren’t broadcasting a communication signal.
“Set Condition Two, Major,” Nathan ordered.
Nathan looked at the main holoscreen while Major Shelton sent out a base-wide alert. There was an incoming data dump from Phoenix Station.
“Colonel, Dark-Star status will be achieved in twelve hours,” Major Shelton said.
“Understood,” Nathan replied.
In twelve hours, they would have virtually no presence on the lunar surface, which was a vast improvement when compared with the drills he’d run when he’d first assumed command of the base. Coming from a warship command, twelve hours seemed like a lifetime, but Lunar Base was comprised of more than just CDF personnel. They were essentially a small conclave of soldiers mixed with scientists and construction workers in their munitions factory. They were stocked with supplies that would last for six months.
“Major, we need the current status of all teams deployed. And start checking them off as they report in,” Nathan ordered.
Orders for blackout protocol could only come from CDF command, and Nathan knew General Gates would not give the command unless he had credible evidence of an imminent threat to New Earth.
Major Shelton went to the auxiliary workstation so Nathan could take command. It seemed that he and Major Shelton would become better acquainted over the next few hours after all.
Lunar Base was vitally important to New Earth’s defenses, and General Gates had changed their mandate to a purely passive presence until they were authorized to engage. Rules of engagement for Lunar Base could be given from COMCENT or, in the absence of the chain of command, by the commanding officer. Connor had gone over his strategy for how Lunar Base would be used when the Vemus arrived. They would lend support to Phoenix Station if called upon or, in the worst-case scenario, as a secret base from which to engage the enemy. They were to keep their presence hidden for as long as possible.
“Colonel, we have an overdue salvage team. It appears they were on a deep salvage mission in the debris field,” Major Shelton said.
Nathan brought the specs to his personal workstation. Captain Davis’s team had missed their check-in. They were escorting Dr. Brian Walker’s science team, who was trying to capture living samples of the Vemus.
“What are your orders, Colonel?” Major Shelton asked.
“That’s a high-priority mission. We’re going to send in a second team,” Nathan said.
“Colonel, once we’re in Dark-Star status, if the second team runs into trouble we won’t be authorized to respond.”
“Understood, Major,” Nathan said, knowing Major Shelton was just doing her job. “I want Captain Walker’s squad on point for the second team. They’re authorized to assess the current status of the first team and assist with their mission. If there’s evidence of Vemus infection, then they’re to use containment protocols.”
“Yes, Colonel,” Major Shelton replied
.
Nathan hoped Davis’s team was just experiencing some kind of communications issue due to the fact they were in the debris field rather than having encountered any trouble. Captain Jon Walker was an exemplary pilot and could effect a rescue mission if it came down to it. Besides that, if Nathan had a brother, he knew he’d be out there looking for him if he could.
“Tactical, keep our PRADIS updated with the data dump from Phoenix Station and continuously update it for as long as they send their feeds to us,” Nathan said.
“Yes, Colonel,” the tactical officer replied.
Lunar Base going dark meant that any active scanning of the star system must stop and they would become reliant upon sensor feeds from Phoenix Station. As their PRADIS was updated, Nathan began to understand why General Gates had put him in command of Lunar Base. He’d seen combat and knew that it would be a waiting game. The real test of Nathan’s resolve would come when the first shots were fired and those at the base could only watch the engagement from afar. Even if Phoenix Station were to become compromised, Nathan could not reveal their presence unless they could decisively destroy the Vemus invasion force. And as of this moment, they still didn’t know what was coming for them.
Chapter Nine
Almost twenty-four hours had passed since they’d first detected the anomaly, and Connor was returning to the Command Center on Phoenix Station. He’d just finished briefing the defense council, and the cities of New Earth were on high alert. There had been no further course changes from the anomaly, and after careful analysis of its apparent change of course, Phoenix Station’s operations team was almost evenly divided on whether the anomaly had, in fact, changed course. The change had been so slight that there were credible arguments to be made that this was just a natural occurrence for objects in deep space. Connor had decided to err on the side of caution and ordered Phoenix Station to Condition Two, which set a series of actions into motion, including Lunar Base going dark. Lunar Base was their failsafe if Phoenix Station was destroyed, and it would not be an easy thing for Colonel Hayes to carry out his orders should the worst happen, but Connor had the utmost faith in him.