by Ken Lozito
“Quite certain, General,” Dr. Allen said, meeting Connor’s gaze.
“Are there any others in the same condition?” Connor asked.
“Yes, General,” Dr. Allen answered, and Connor’s eyes widened. “With a crew of ten thousand, there’s bound to be more than one. I have a list prepared.”
Connor leaned forward in his chair and shook his head. “The ones who’re unaware is one thing, but for the people who knew and didn’t report it—that’s another.”
“Sir, these are extraordinary times we live in. We’re all coping with the threat the Vemus represent in our own ways—” Dr. Allen said.
“I understand,” Connor said and rose from his seat. “I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. Send your list to Major Quinn and we’ll get it sorted out. I’m due to return to the Command Center,” he said and left his office with Dr. Allen following.
“Good luck, General,” Dr. Allen said.
“Good luck to us all,” Connor said.
Sean was standing a short distance away with his security detail and walked with Connor on his way back to Phoenix Station’s Command Center.
Sean eyed him for a moment. “I take it the news from Dr. Allen was significant, sir?”
Connor nodded. “Let’s just say you were right about Colonel Cross.”
They walked into the Command Center, where the CDF soldiers on duty were actively working at their stations. The countdown timer on the main holoscreen was mirrored on Connor’s own internal heads-up display, but he glanced at it anyway. The first salvo of HADES IV-B missiles would be in target range soon.
Connor headed to the command area where Colonel Cross waited. She met his gaze and something unspoken passed between them. Her eyes narrowed and she glanced away for a moment. Then her shoulders slumped before she squared herself away.
Connor stood next to her with his hands clasped behind him. He could feel the tenseness coming off of her in waves. He glanced at the barely perceptible pooch in her midsection. “You should have told me,” Connor said quietly.
Colonel Cross looked at him and was about to reply.
“Alpha missile group closing in on target. Command-and-control units have the target marked,” Captain Thorne announced.
Connor looked at the main holoscreen. The alpha missile group was the farthermost away from the Vemus ship. They’d been modified to maximize their speed, reaching forty percent relativistic speeds, which meant that as the Vemus Alpha crossed Sagan’s line, the fifty-four-million-kilometer distance would be covered in under eight minutes. Twenty of their modified HADES IV-Bs were carrying fusion warheads.
Connor and the rest of the CDF soldiers on Phoenix Station waited.
“Detonation signal received,” Captain Thorne said. “Confirmed detonation of all twenty missiles,” he said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.
Millions of kilometers away from them, the Vemus Alpha ship was blindsided by the CDF missiles. Layers of the exoskeleton sloughed away almost immediately, burning away in chunks. Large gaps began to appear on the hull of the massive ship where the CDF missiles had delivered their powerful payloads.
“Bravo and Charlie missile groups are closing on the target,” Captain Thorne announced.
Connor knew those missiles moved much slower. That was why they’d waited to send the alpha group until the other missile groups were in position. A subgroup of Bravo and Charlie were targeted to hit the rear of the Vemus Alpha. Connor’s gaze was fixed on the main holoscreen. Those missiles had to reach their target. Since there were no visible engines on the massive ship, they had to be in the rear, hidden away in the cavernous mass. He planned to blindside the behemoth and then continue to hit the ship, chopping away at it and hopefully crippling it in the process.
“Confirm all HADES active,” Captain Thorne said.
The breath caught in Connor’s chest. The command-and-control units would provide updates for as long as they were active. They didn’t have thousands of missiles, so every one of them counted.
The command-and-control units beamed back their updates, but it still took the data over three minutes to make it to Phoenix Station, where the computing core immediately put it into their cyber-warfare suite. The whole process from the time the command-and-control units sent an update to when it appeared on the main holoscreen in Phoenix Station’s command area was three-point-two minutes. That didn’t sound like a lot of time, but it could make all the difference in a war such as this. There was nothing else for them to do. They were committed to this engagement, just as the Vemus Alpha was.
“Missile groups going offline,” Captain Thorne said, his voice rising.
“Can you confirm detonation?” Connor asked.
“I’m trying to . . . negative, General. They must be taking out our missiles,” Captain Thorne said.
Connor watched the long list of HADES IV-B missile statuses. Some were getting through the countermeasures the Vemus were using, but not nearly as many as they’d hoped. As more and more missiles went offline without delivering their payload, Connor’s gut clenched.
“Sir, command-and-control units are now offline. Switching to PRADIS,” Captain Thorne said.
Connor clenched his teeth. Without the command-and-control units, they couldn’t know what sort of damage they’d done. He looked away from the main holoscreen, but the officers in the command area still watched with grave expressions.
“PRADIS is online,” Captain Thorne said. “Sir, we have three hundred marks on the plot—make that four hundred. Speed and mass readings indicate NA Alliance Condor class heavy missiles.”
“Set Condition One,” Connor said. “Ready station defenses. We have incoming missiles.”
“Action Stations. Action Stations. Set Condition One.” Lieutenant Daniel’s voice was broadcast throughout Phoenix Station.
“Time to impact—one hour at their current speed, sir,” Captain Thorne said.
“Thank you, Captain. Any change in their speed, I want to know about it immediately,” Connor said.
“Yes, General,” Captain Thorne answered.
“Major Elder, you have the con. Colonel Cross and Major Quinn, follow me,” Connor said.
“Yes, General,” Major Elder said, giving them a curious glance as they left.
Connor led them to the nearest breakout room and told Sean to wait outside. Colonel Cross went inside, and Connor closed the door.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Colonel?” Connor asked.
“Sir, I was going to tell you—” Colonel Cross began.
“You were required to tell me the moment you found out. How far along are you?” Connor asked.
“Not that far—”
“How far along!” Connor shouted.
“Eight weeks. Just over eight weeks, sir,” Colonel Cross said finally.
Connor’s eyes widened. “Eight weeks,” he muttered in disbelief. “You must have known you were pregnant for over a month and didn’t report it.”
Colonel Cross looked away.
“We have protocols to follow. You were required to report this to me as your commanding officer within seventy-two hours of finding out,” Connor said, his voice lowering in volume but no less stern.
Colonel Cross glared at him. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”
“Granted.”
“I know the damn protocol and the regulations,” Colonel Cross said.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted to fight! I have a right to fight. My pregnancy doesn’t in any way impede my ability to command,” Colonel Cross said.
“This is about more than just you, Savannah. ‘No pregnant woman shall serve in an active combat zone,’” Connor replied.
“Are you going to arrest me?” Colonel Cross challenged.
“No, I’m not going to arrest you. But I am sending you back to New Earth,” Connor said.
“No, don’t!” Colonel Cross pleaded. “Let me stay. Let me fig
ht. You need me.”
Connor’s eyebrows drew together, furrowing over his eyes. “Absolutely not. This isn’t just about you anymore. There’s another life at stake.”
“All of our lives are at stake! What difference does it make whether I stay here and fight or go back to New Earth and fight there?” Colonel Cross said. “Tell me, what difference does it make?”
“All the difference in the world, but you can’t see it now. What is the Colonial Defense Force motto?” Connor asked.
Colonel Cross sighed heavily. “Defend the colony and all its people,” she said softly.
“Your baby, even at this stage, is part of this colony. The regulations on this are clear,” Connor said.
Colonel Cross gritted her teeth, and the edges of her eyes reddened.
“Who is the father? And does he know?” Connor asked.
“Where are you going to send me?” Colonel Cross asked.
“Answer the question, Colonel,” Connor said.
“It’s Colonel Hayes,” she said, and her shoulders slumped.
“Does Nathan know?” Connor asked.
Colonel Cross’s lips trembled and she shook her head.
“Understood,” Connor said. “For the record, I understand why you did what you did, but I can’t condone it. We have these regulations for a reason. You think that fighting here at Phoenix Station is no different than on New Earth, but I say you’re wrong. You might hate it, and you might hate me for enforcing the regulations even in times such as these, but I intend to give your and Nathan’s baby the best chance at life I can.”
Colonel Cross looked away from him.
Connor opened the door. “Major Quinn, have two members of your security detail escort Colonel Cross to the hangar bay. She’s been relieved of duty. She, along with several hundred nonessential personnel, are returning to New Earth. See that she’s assigned to Sanctuary, then come inside.”
“Right away, General,” Major Quinn said.
Colonel Cross began to walk out of the breakout room, but stopped before the threshold. She turned around and stood up straight, with her shoulders back. She raised her right hand to her brow and saluted.
Connor brought his heels together and saluted back to her in kind, then gave her a firm nod, and she left.
Connor rested his hands on his hips and sighed heavily. He looked up at the ceiling, still thinking about what Savannah had done. He kept thinking about whether he should inform Nathan that he was going to be a father but decided against it. News like that should come from the mother, but Lunar Base was in a communications blackout. Would it affect Colonel Hayes’s ability to command Lunar Base? Would the news of him becoming a father affect his judgment and make him prone to rash decisions? Connor pressed his lips together while he considered. He’d put Nathan in command of Lunar Base because of his commitment to their strategy for fighting the Vemus. While the news of his becoming a father would come as a shock, Connor believed that, of anyone under his command, Nathan could handle that news, but he’d leave it up to Savannah to tell him.
The door to the breakout room opened, and Sean stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“You wanted to see me, sir,” Sean said.
“You were right about Colonel Cross. She’s pregnant,” Connor said.
Sean nodded. “It makes sense now, sir.”
Connor snorted. Savannah and Nathan were hardly the first officers to survive an ordeal like their first engagement with the Vemus and wind up sleeping together. Regardless of the status of their relationship, they both had something to consider.
“Your keen observation skills continue to impress me, Major,” Connor said.
“Thank you, sir. I aim to please,” Sean said with a smile.
Connor sighed. “You won’t like your new orders.”
Sean frowned. “New orders, sir?”
“Yes,” Connor replied. “I’m sending you back to Sierra. You’re to take command of the city’s defenses. I’m giving you full authority over all CDF forces on the ground.”
“But, sir, I thought I’d be at your side for the duration,” Sean said.
“Plans change. You and your entire team will go to Sierra,” Connor said.
Sean’s mouth hung open. “Is this because . . .”
Connor knew what he was about to ask, and Sean let the question go unfinished. “If you need to ask that, I haven’t done a very good job of not giving you special treatment all these years.”
Sean clamped his mouth shut. “Permission to speak freely, General.”
“Keep it quick.” Connor glanced at the clock.
“Why are you sending me back to New Earth? We have soldiers and commanding officers there already,” Sean said.
“Let me tell you something. We’re not all the same, commanding officers included, but there are some who are born with a certain instinct that either makes them die young or enables them to rise through the ranks. The fact of the matter is, Sean, you’re one of the best officers I’ve ever served with. And that includes Wil and Kasey. They both commented on more than one occasion about your abilities as an officer,” Connor said.
Sean swallowed hard. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you believe in my abilities, but I don’t have the rank to take command of Sierra’s defenses.”
Connor smiled. “A CO once said to me that titles are cheap. People will follow those who do the work. Damon Mills is bullheaded, but he’s a good man. He’ll listen to you. I’m giving you operational command authority for the CDF ground forces. I’m sending my authorization to your PDA. You’re to report to Sierra at once.”
“But, sir, I don’t know if I can do this.”
Connor put his hand on Sean’s shoulder. “I know you can. I firmly believe that when the Vemus reach the city, it will stand a much better chance at surviving with you in command. Remember what you’ve learned and trust your instincts.”
“You said when the Vemus reach the city. You don’t think you can stop them here?” Sean asked.
“You’ve seen it for yourself. We’ll slow them down and do whatever damage we can against them so you’ll have fewer to face on the ground. Very little will change that,” Connor said. He’d been thinking it for so long that to finally admit it aloud was somewhat freeing.
He watched as a range of emotions crossed Sean’s face, but the young man was smart enough to know the answers. Instead, he hardened his gaze. “I’ll do my best, General.”
“Good luck,” Connor said, and his throat became tight.
“You too, sir,” Sean said.
They left the breakout room, and Connor watched the young man he had helped shape into a fine young officer walk away from him. He’d always looked at Sean as a son, and he was filled with fatherly pride in the man Sean Quinn had become. He wondered if Admiral Wilkinson had had the same thoughts when he looked at Connor’s own son. Connor felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders. The video recording of his son was painful for him to watch, but he now had a better understanding of why Wilkinson had asked him to record it. Connor had spent a lot of time hating Wilkinson for the actions he’d taken and how Connor had to live with the results. It wasn’t a perfect world by a long shot, and if Connor could find it in his heart to forgive Mitch Wilkinson for setting him on this path, then perhaps he could finally forgive himself for his own actions that had put him on this same path.
Connor swallowed those thoughts away. He wished he could tell Lenora that he finally understood what she’d been trying to tell him.
“General, they need you in the command area,” a CDF soldier said.
Connor nodded and headed there. This fight was far from over and he intended to make the Vemus bleed as much as he could before the end.
Chapter Seventeen
Noah walked among the ruins of the alien city the colonists called Sanctuary. He’d been working with a team of engineers to convert the alien power station into something they could use for the colossus cannon. The problem was that the technolo
gy was hundreds of years old. The aliens had tapped into geothermal energy deep in the planet’s crust. Since the colonists didn’t have the resources to build a power plant of their own, they’d taken the option of leveraging what was already there. The plan was simple, just not easy. Noah had finished running a series of tests, and the power output seemed stable enough for further testing. But if the Vemus somehow found this place, he wasn’t sure how long the colossus cannon would remain operational.
He’d decided to take a walk to clear his head. He wanted to find Lenora. She’d been pretty upset, and wasn’t that what little brothers were supposed to do? A member of the archaeological team had told him she’d gone into an area of the city that was cordoned off from refugees. The soldiers securing that area took one look at his uniform and rank, then let him pass.
The aliens that built this place hadn’t constructed anything like stairs. Instead, they preferred ramps that made traversing to the lower levels of the city seem like he was walking along a winding road. It would have been nice if they’d built elevators, but they apparently hadn’t had any need for them either. He came to a subterranean level of the city where the only lighting came from some of the temporary light fixtures they’d set up. Noah peered ahead and noticed that the lighting became brighter in the distance. The source of the light came from a building whose large circular door was partially open. Some unseen mechanism must have pulled the door into the wall because there was no way Lenora could have opened it herself.
Noah called out and heard Lenora answer him from inside the building, but her voice echoed and sounded distant. Noah went inside and followed a corridor that circled into a large cavern. There were glowing amber lights along the smooth walls. Noah walked deeper into the cavern and noticed that there were even more levels beneath the one he was on.
He saw Lenora standing a short distance away, in front of a curved screen that showed some type of alien writing scrolling past, going from left to right.
“What is this place?” Noah asked.
“I think it’s some kind of archive,” Lenora said in hushed tones, as if they were in a church.