First Colony: Books 1 - 3

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First Colony: Books 1 - 3 Page 14

by Ken Lozito


  “I’ll see what I can do,” Tobias said.

  “Really? I’ve been asking for additional personnel and you’ve been putting me off, but Connor gets special treatment.” Franklin laughed and looked at Connor. “Tomorrow you get to try to convince a bunch of people who are settled to leave all that behind for a while to be trained in a job they might not want,” Franklin said.

  “Sometimes people will surprise you,” Connor said.

  They left the auditorium conference room, and Connor was already making lists in his head. He pulled Diaz and Noah aside.

  “Thanks, guys. If you know someone who would be a good fit for the team, I want to know about it. Don’t be shy about it either, Noah,” Connor said.

  “Wait. I’m just on loan,” Noah said.

  Connor grinned. “For now.”

  “But I’m not a soldier,” Noah protested.

  “Neither was I,” Connor said. “Don’t look so scared. I want your input on the technical stuff, and I’ll show you things like how to shoot a rifle. It’ll be fun. Plus you’ll gain a valuable perspective by doing some fieldwork.”

  Noah considered it for a moment and then nodded.

  “Let’s get to it,” Connor said.

  Now the real work would begin. Building the team he had in mind wasn’t going to be easy. He and Diaz had their work cut out for them, but it was a start—at least for now.

  14

  In the weeks that followed, Connor worked nearly around the clock. He only needed a few hours’ sleep in order to function, which was one of the benefits of the nanite suite he had. Dr. Marashi had taken a sample of the nanites from Connor’s blood to see if he could duplicate them. Long-term exposure carried a risk of the body rejecting the nanites, rendering them ineffectual. The nanites Connor had in his system were experimental and cutting edge, which was why only his old platoon had access to them. They’d needed to cycle them at least once a year to avoid complications. Since Dr. Marashi hadn’t been able to reproduce the nanites, Connor was reluctant to let them go. They simply offered him too many advantages, including quick healing abilities, for him to go back to living without them.

  “Are you sure about this?” Diaz asked, glancing down at the three chevrons that adorned the arms of his uniform.

  “If I wasn’t sure, you wouldn’t be here,” Connor said.

  Field Operations had a similar command structure as the NA Alliance military, which Connor attributed more to Franklin Mallory than Tobias Quinn. Quinn was adamant about not having anything that functioned as a military, believing that having standing militaries created as many problems as it solved.

  “I have to say I really didn’t think Mallory would go for the change in plans,” Diaz said.

  “You saw that research base. It wasn’t going to work,” Connor replied.

  They were standing in Connor’s temporary office at the Field Operations Headquarters. The interactive wallscreen had lists of supplies and personnel records of the squad they’d put together.

  “That’s another thing. We easily had more volunteers. Why aren’t we taking everyone we can get?” Diaz asked.

  “This is only the first bunch. Search and Rescue is just the two of us right now. A dozen recruits is a good start,” Connor said.

  “Mallory was surprised by the short list,” Diaz said.

  “I’d thought of bringing more recruits and then whittling them down, but there simply aren’t enough people to go around for that. We can replace anyone on the team if it comes to that,” Connor said.

  Diaz glanced at the list of recruits. “You better keep that backup list handy, Colonel.”

  Mallory had reinstated Connor’s previous rank, which made him equal to Chief Mills and second in rank to Mallory himself. Whereas Mills had multiple squads totaling nearly three hundred people in Field Operations and Security, Connor just had himself, Diaz, and twelve recruits.

  There was a knock on the office door, and Diaz went to open it.

  “We have a visitor, sir,” Diaz said.

  Sean Quinn was standing outside. The sandy-haired youth waved from the doorway, and Connor gestured for him to come inside.

  “What can I do for you?” Connor asked.

  Sean walked in and did a pretty good impression of standing at attention. “I’d like to join Search and Rescue, sir.”

  Diaz’s mouth rounded in surprise, but since he stood behind the governor’s son, only Connor could see.

  “Why?” Connor asked.

  “There have been more incidents with the berwolfs stalking the teams—not only here, but at some of the research bases. You were right, sir, and I want to join you so I can help do something about it,” Sean said.

  Connor regarded the youth for a moment. He had a few freckles on his face and his tanned skin indicated that he spent much of his time outside, but there was still that uncertainty in his gaze that suggested Sean was running from something.

  “How old are you?” Connor asked.

  Sean’s shoulders slumped. “Seventeen, sir.”

  “You’re too young for this. Come back to me next year,” Connor said and walked behind his desk, giving the young man a moment to school his features.

  “Sir, I’ll be eighteen in just a few weeks. What difference will the time make?”

  “Not much from your perspective. What matters is where we draw the line. Do your parents know you’re here, asking for this?” Connor asked.

  Sean’s eyes flashed angrily. “No, sir.”

  “Do you think they’d give their consent for you to do something like this?”

  “I’m not sure, sir.”

  “What do you think we’re going to be doing?” Connor asked.

  “Helping people out, being the strongest of the strong, the best trained, sir.”

  “You can be all those things without joining Search and Rescue,” Connor said.

  Diaz opened the door and the busy sounds from the corridor beyond echoed inside.

  Sean stood in the same spot, his gaze on the floor. “Please, sir.”

  Connor shook his head. “Look at me. What we’re doing is dangerous. I’m not running a day camp where you get to ‘find’ yourself to determine whether you’re worth something. You can ‘find’ yourself without me. Go out there and make a difference and then, maybe, I’ll consider letting you join. Now get out of here.”

  Sean sucked in a breath and fled.

  Diaz closed the door and made a low whistling sound. “Is this what you’re gonna be like once we get to our camp?”

  Connor shook his head. “Worse. Besides, I don’t have time for that right now.”

  Another knock came as the door opened and Noah stuck his head inside. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all. Come inside,” Connor said.

  “I have good news. The drones you asked for are ready,” Noah said.

  “Excellent! Are they in the supply crates?” Connor asked.

  “All twenty-five of them are being loaded as we speak,” Noah said.

  “Great, so you’re coming with us then,” Connor said.

  “I’ll be out there in a few days. Mills has me doing some things for Field Ops now,” Noah said.

  With the onset of Search and Rescue, Damon Mills had suddenly begun making changes to Field Ops, improving their response times and security.

  “Mills has plenty of engineers working for him,” Connor said.

  Noah glanced over at the wallscreen. “And I see you have one, too.”

  Connor caught Noah’s gaze lingering on the list. “Is there something I should know?”

  Noah shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll be working on the suit upgrades for your squad and will come out to the camp when they get delivered.”

  Connor eyed the young tech specialist. “It’s your squad too.”

  “You’re relentless,” Noah said and left the room.

  “The funny thing is he thinks he has a choice.” Diaz snorted.

  “Don’t be crazy. They
all have a choice. They might not like the choices they have, but they’ll always have a choice,” Connor said.

  He killed his open session on the wallscreen and looked around his office. Everything was in its place and there was nothing he’d forgotten. Connor stepped outside the office and heard his name being called.

  Franklin Mallory caught up to him. “I thought I’d walk you out.”

  “I was just coming to your office to let you know we were leaving,” Connor said.

  Diaz said he’d meet them on the tarmac and quickened his pace.

  “So, you’re all ready?” Franklin asked.

  “As we’ll ever be,” Connor said.

  “I have to be honest. I’d feel a whole lot better if you were going to the research base as we originally planned.”

  “Isolation is key, for the first few weeks anyway. Most of them have been too comfortable living at the compound,” Connor said.

  “Yeah, but that camp is rustic, to say the least. I saw on the manifest that you’re only bringing one small power generator and a light backup.”

  “They already know how to operate here. We strip everything away and gradually reintroduce things. Also, it measures their commitment,” Connor said.

  Franklin nodded. “I know. I know. We’ve been through this a half dozen times. You’ll be off the grid.”

  “With regular check-ins. Diaz and I have been out to the site and have a pretty good knowledge of the area. We have all the data collected so far, and we’ve had a Field Ops drone in the area doing reconnaissance,” Connor said.

  Franklin glanced at him. “You’re excited about this, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely. And remember our agreement. No inspections for at least a month,” Connor said.

  They exited the headquarters and climbed into the waiting ground transport that would take him to the airfield.

  “I hear the berwolfs have been coming back around,” Connor said.

  Franklin nodded grimly. “Yes, they have. Some of the new protocols have helped.”

  Connor was glad to hear it. He hadn’t been convinced that Damon Mills would make any changes. “How’s Mills handling it?”

  “He cares about his people. It’s just you he doesn’t like,” Franklin said.

  They arrived at one of the smaller landing areas of the airfield, but there was still quite a bit of traffic going to and from the Ark. Outside a cargo carrier, Sergeant Diaz was shouting at a ragtag group.

  “Form a line. Now!” Diaz bellowed. “It’s not that hard.”

  Connor and Franklin walked over. Diaz turned around and snapped a salute. “Search and Rescue trainee squad awaits inspection, sir.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” Connor said, returning his salute.

  Twelve men and women formed two lines of six, varying in age and experience. Off to the side was a pile of personal items that had no business going to their camp. More than a few of the recruits glanced over at the pile.

  “Your stuff will be returned to you once your training is complete. We’ll do formal introductions later,” Connor said.

  “Sir, yes, sir,” the squad shouted.

  Connor suppressed a smile. Diaz must have given them some preliminary instruction before he arrived. Connor stood next to Diaz and snapped a salute to Mallory.

  Franklin regarded them with a nod to a time long gone. “The clock is ticking. I’ll let you get to it.”

  Connor turned toward Diaz. “Get them on board, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, sir,” Diaz said and turned to face the new recruits. “Alright, you heard him. Grab your gear and get on board the ship. Debriefing will occur once we’re on site.”

  “Good luck,” Franklin said.

  Connor shook his hand. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  Franklin returned to the ground transport, and Connor caught a glimpse of a man standing off to the side. A tele-view of the man appeared on his internal heads-up display. Damon Mills watched him, stone-faced and impossible to read. Connor regarded Mills for a moment, and though there were a hundred meters between them, it wasn’t far enough in Connor’s mind.

  Connor turned around and walked up the ramp to enter the cargo carrier, the last one to board. He walked past the supply crates, and as he came to his new recruits, their conversations hushed. Connor headed to the cockpit where the pilots sat.

  A pilot named Mitchell greeted him. “We’re clear for takeoff.”

  Connor nodded. “Good. Once we’re in the air I have a new set of coordinates for you.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Mitchell said.

  “It’s fine. You will,” Connor said.

  The cargo carrier thrusters were engaged and the ship lifted off the ground. Once they were high enough, the carrier sped off.

  Connor used his implants to interface with the ship’s systems and uploaded the coordinates and his authorization.

  The new coordinates appeared on Mitchell’s terminal, and the pilot frowned. “I have the new destination, but sir, there isn’t any research base at this location.”

  “I know,” Connor said. “We’ll also be doing a low-altitude deployment.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that,” Mitchell stammered.

  “I’m making you aware of it now. Will there be a problem?” Connor asked.

  “The passengers aren’t equipped for a low-altitude drop, sir.”

  Connor glanced behind him, making a show of considering what the pilot was saying. “Oh, that. Don’t worry about it. They’ll be fine. Just get us over those coordinates, dump us out, and go back home.”

  The pilot nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Connor went over to see that Diaz was already wearing a vest with repulsor jets on the back. They were designed for low-altitude jumps. The jets would fire to slow the wearer’s descent enough for them to make a soft landing. Connor put his own repulsor vest on and waited.

  “Sir, we’re approaching the drop zone. I’ll just warn the passengers in the cabin of the flight status,” Mitchell said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Connor said.

  “But, sir—”

  Connor gave him a hard look. “Are they all strapped into their seats?”

  The pilot did a quick check of the status of the passengers. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then when we’re over the drop zone, dump them out,” Connor said.

  He glanced at Diaz and headed to the cargo area.

  “You believe that guy?” Connor heard Mitchell ask his copilot when he thought they were away. Connor closed the door. He was facing his new recruits, and the nearest one raised her hand.

  “Yes,” Connor said.

  “How long till we get there, sir?” she asked.

  She had thick blond hair and pale skin. The name A. Blake was stenciled into her jacket.

  “What did you say?” Connor asked.

  He’d heard her, he was just delaying his answer. The recruits nearby were actively listening when suddenly a klaxon alarm sounded and the interior lights changed to red. A few seconds later the cargo bay doors opened and wind roared through the airship. The recruits looked behind them in horror as the locking mechanism holding large storage crates in place shifted and the crates were pulled from the cargo area.

  “I can’t get my straps undone!” one of the recruits cried.

  Connor kicked the emergency lever. The recruits all angled backward and screamed as their seats raced on tracks toward the exit. At the last second, small rockets fired as their seats detached from the ship and they were tossed out of the cargo ship.

  The cargo area was clear. Connor glanced across at Diaz, who gave him a thumbs-up. Together they ran down the ramp and jumped into the air. Diaz let out a loud woot and bellowed a laugh almost the whole way to the ground.

  15

  The wind slapped against Connor’s face as he jumped out of the cargo ship and noted multiple chute deployments from his new recruits. Their chairs were bolted together and designed for this type of emergen
cy. He scanned ahead for the hardened cargo crates and made a quick count. Connor looked at Diaz and gave him a thumbs-up. Without parachutes of their own, they quickly overtook his new recruits. The pilots had done their jobs well, because they were right on target, and they approached the wide-open glade he’d designated as the spot for their new camp over a week ago.

  He and Diaz used their arms to angle away from each other. Landing with a repulsor jet pack wasn’t for the faint of heart. They were required to change the angle of their approach; otherwise, the small repulsor engines would speed them to their deaths. Connor brought his arms in and dove forward. The momentum of his body aligned his feet with the ground below, and he fired his engines for a few moments. He slowed down, but not enough, so he fired his engines again in a controlled burst and his velocity quickly decreased. His feet scraped the ground and he pumped his legs, then killed the jets and ran a short distance before stopping. Diaz landed nearby, and the sergeant immediately started scanning the area. He had his SD-15 in his hand.

  Connor kept his SD holstered and patched into the recon drone they had in the area. There were no berwolfs nearby. The cargo crates landed close by, followed by his harried-looking recruits. Some of them had vomit on their shirts.

  He did a quick visual. “Alright. Fall in line. Let’s go. I haven’t got all day. What are you waiting for? Get up!” Connor shouted.

  Diaz was on them, coming from the other side, shouting for them to get up. The recruits unstrapped themselves and tried to stand up, but most of them immediately fell because their wobbly legs refused to hold them up.

  “On your feet. Line up, people,” Connor said.

  All twelve recruits lined up, most of them looking completely out of sorts as if they couldn’t believe what had just happened.

  “Welcome, Lightning Platoon, to Search and Rescue training. Over the next few weeks you will be challenged and tested to see if you have what it takes to be on my team,” Connor said. He walked down the line as he spoke. “I know many of you have questions,” Connor said.

  Five recruits’ hands shot into the air.

  “Put your hands down,” Diaz snapped. “The commander didn’t ask you if you had questions. He made a statement.”

 

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