First Colony: Books 1 - 3

by Ken Lozito

  Connor stood outside the Hellcat. The recruits were getting cleaned up and hitting the showers. He had Sean Quinn manning the monitoring station.

  “Commander, you should see this,” Diaz called down from the roof of the Hellcat.

  Connor stepped back inside the ship and climbed the ladder to the roof. Diaz and Compton stood over a jagged hole where the ship’s communications array had been housed.

  “Those things are freaking strong. It’s as if the bunch of us bashed the crap out of this thing with pry bars, except the ryklars did it with their bare hands,” Diaz said.

  Connor squatted down and took a closer look. “We just need to patch it up until we get back to the compound for repairs.”

  “You think we’ll be recalled?” Diaz asked.

  Connor glanced at Compton. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

  Compton left them.

  “How long do you think it will be before you’ll have this ready?” Connor asked.

  “It’s just a patch job, so not long at all,” Diaz said.

  Connor nodded. “To answer your question . . .”

  Sean Quinn shouted for Connor from the command tent.

  “I think that answers your question. I need to go report this. I’ll send Owens up here to help you,” Connor said.

  He entered the command tent and saw Franklin Mallory’s face on the main holoscreen.

  “Hello, Franklin, we’ve got some new intel on the ryklars,” Connor said and proceeded to bring Mallory up to speed.

  Franklin took a sip from his black coffee mug. “Sounds like you trained them well.”

  “Considering what they were up against, they’ve more than satisfied the requirements to graduate to the next level of training. I’d say they’ve been field-tested and are ready to be put to use,” Connor said.

  “Good, then it’s not a surprise that you’re being recalled to the compound. In preparation for this, we’ve designated part of Field Ops Headquarters for your use, as well as a permanent parking space on the airfield. You’ll even have designated barracks while on duty,” Franklin said, his eyes gleaming.

  “A permanent parking spot. I bet Mills loved that. We’ll start breaking down the camp then,” Connor said.

  “Just make sure the equipment is secure and stowed for now. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before the next class of recruits will start the training. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Franklin said.

  The comlink closed.

  News of their imminent departure soon spread among the recruits, which added a spring to their steps. The recruits spent the remainder of the day packing up all the equipment that needed to be secured. Connor had to write up a report of the events that had transpired during the exercise. He recalled many of his fellow officers complaining about the endless reports they had to file, but Connor had never minded all that much. He looked forward to the quiet time to reflect on the performance of his team—the objectives they’d achieved, or failed to achieve. It was how they improved.

  The next morning, the first Search and Rescue team of New Earth boarded the Hellcat. Utility bags were stuffed with personal belongings. Weapons crates and ammunition were stored as well. Connor took one last look at the camp and then closed the rear doors, joining Diaz in the cockpit.

  Connor engaged the flight controls and the Hellcat rose into the air. Less than thirty minutes later they were landing at the main compound.

  “Civilization,” Diaz said.

  The recruits lined up just outside the Hellcat.

  “There will be a graduation ceremony later today. Fresh uniforms are located in the barracks. Report to Field Operations Headquarters in two hours. Dismissed,” Connor said.

  The recruits snapped a salute and then headed off the airfield. Diaz also left him, and Connor waited for the maintenance crew to arrive. He hadn’t spent that much time at the compound, and the training camp felt more like home to him than this did. He noticed a team of Field Operations personnel equipped for an excursion beyond the confines of the compound across the airfield.

  Damon Mills was with the team, and Connor walked over. Mills was issuing orders to his team and they climbed aboard the troop carrier ship.

  “I heard you were coming back into town,” Mills said.

  His tone was neutral, borderline professional, which was enough to pique Connor’s curiosity.

  “Where you heading?” Connor asked.

  “One of the FORBs went dark last night. We’re heading out there to see what their status is,” Mills said.

  “Have there been a lot of problems with the research bases?”

  “Can’t afford to take chances. Since you showed up, Mallory has had me updating our protocols, which includes that if a FORB goes dark for six hours or more, we have to go investigate,” Mills said. There was still some bitterness in his tone but none of the hatred that had been there before.

  “I’m not your enemy, Mills.”

  Mills snorted. “No, you’re just a pain in my ass,” he said and frowned. “But some of your suggestions did help. I better get to it.”

  Connor walked back to the Hellcat. There were times when he wanted to choke the life out of Damon Mills and other times when the man wasn’t too bad to be around. Connor had no illusions that they’d ever be friends, but it would help if they could work together.

  The graduation ceremony was a small affair attended by friends and family of the former Search and Rescue recruits. There were no dress uniforms for any division of Field Operations and Security, so they wore the green jumpsuit with the golden sunburst patch on one shoulder and a white shield with a black lightning bolt across the middle on the other.

  Connor stood at a podium, delivering a commencement address to the new Search and Rescue Squad.

  “You’re the very first class to graduate from the new Search and Rescue Division of Field Operations. I can confidently say that you’ve set the bar high for the next class,” Connor said.

  The squad of former recruits rose to their feet and snapped a crisp salute, each with a hungry, confident gleam in their eyes. Connor brought his heels together and returned the salute. His gaze lingered on each of them.

  Juan Diaz stepped forward, shoulders back and chest puffed out. “Lightning Platoon, dismissed.”

  There were cheers from those in attendance. Connor glanced over at Tobias and Ashley Quinn, each of whom wore proud expressions for their son. Allison Blake was alone, and she walked over to Connor.

  “We’re missing Noah,” Blake said.

  “Agreed. No one here at the compound for you?” Connor asked.

  Allison shook her head. “My brother is still on the Ark.”

  “Oh, I had no idea,” Connor said.

  Nate Poe came over and asked if he could borrow Blake for a few minutes, so Connor was left standing alone. He saw Diaz was with his on-again-off-again girlfriend, Victoria. Connor never knew what to do with himself at these types of formal functions. He’d stay here for his new team because they deserved that much, but he wouldn’t like it. He’d been on the colony for just over two months and he still felt completely out of place.

  Ashley Quinn spotted him and came over. “Boy, if you don’t look like a fish out of water, I don’t know who does.”

  “Have you heard from Noah?” Connor asked.

  Ashley shook her head. “He’s still at Lenora’s research base. So what are you going to do now?”

  “Do you have a job for me already?”

  “Not my department. Speaking of which,” Ashley said as Franklin Mallory joined them.

  “The man of the hour,” Mallory said.

  “Not me. Them. Have you reviewed the mission report for their final exercise?” Connor asked.

  “Yes, and I’ve circulated your comments about the ryklars to our field biologists. They’re very excited,” Mallory said.

  “I wouldn’t get too excited. Those things are dangerous and hellish to put down if they attack,” Connor said.

&n
bsp; “Toughened skin that’s resistant to the standard round and the ability to conceal their body heat,” Mallory said.

  Connor pressed his lips together. “They want to study them?”

  “Of course,” Mallory said.

  Connor glanced at Ashley. “I understand wanting to learn about them, but where are the ethical lines here? This is a highly advanced species with almost humanlike intelligence.”

  “Calm down, Connor. We’re not going to start bagging and tagging them. We did, however, retrieve a few of the deceased specimens to study,” Ashley said.

  “They respond to a high-frequency sound, and I wonder if we can trace it to the source. When is Noah getting back?” Connor asked.

  Mallory frowned. “I thought you knew. Forward Operating Research Base number 97 has gone offline. I sent Damon out there this morning. They should be arriving at the base soon.”

  “Mills mentioned going to investigate an offline base, but I didn’t know it was that one,” Connor said.

  He kept thinking that the coordinated attacks by the ryklars and their abrupt withdraw from the area were connected somehow.

  “What’s the matter?” Mallory asked.

  “Something doesn’t seem right to me. I’m suspicious that the attacks and now this offline research base are connected somehow,” Connor said.

  “That base is over two hundred kilometers from your camp. That would be a fair distance for any animal on foot, even a quadruped,” Mallory said.

  “They hunt those landrunners and they’re fast. I need to check into this,” Connor said.

  “It’s okay to take a day off,” Ashley said. “There’s a team already en route to the base.”

  “There are no days off. You know that,” Connor said.

  Mallory sighed. “Alright, let’s head to the command center and see what we can find out.”

  Connor and Franklin slipped away from the celebration and entered the command center, where the watch commander greeted them.

  “I just need to borrow one of your techs,” Connor said.

  “Of course. Use Bailey,” the watch commander said.

  Bailey sat at a workstation nearby and Connor headed over to him. Bailey had a pouch gut and long shaggy hair. He saw Connor and Franklin and immediately straightened up.

  “What can I do for you, sir?”

  “I want you to scan for this frequency,” Connor said and used his implants to upload the data to Bailey’s terminal.

  Bailey examined the data dump. “Ultra-high-frequency sound. Hmm . . . Okay, let’s task some of our drones on this,” he said.

  The tech worked through the options for the drone-control network.

  “Now we just need to amplify the signal and . . . Here we go,” Bailey said.

  The graphic output appeared on the screen.

  “Can you trace it to the source?” Connor asked.

  Bailey frowned. “Not right now. I’d need to task ten percent of our drones for this, but they’re needed to support the teams we have in the field. I can, however, tell you which direction the signal gets stronger.”

  “What good will that do?” Franklin asked.

  “We can map out the path of the signal and see what’s in its path,” Connor said.

  Bailey nodded. “Exactly. One sec and I’ll put it on the main screen.”

  Connor looked up from Bailey’s workstation and faced the main wallscreen. A map of the area had a quadrant overlay superimposed over the main compound. The signal for the high-frequency sound became stronger in a westerly direction.

  “Show the research bases along that path,” Connor said.

  The doors to the command center opened and Tobias Quinn walked in. He headed over to them.

  “What’s going on?” Tobias asked.

  “Chasing a hunch,” Franklin said.

  Connor hadn’t spoken to the governor since his son had joined Search and Rescue. Franklin quickly filled Tobias in on what they were doing.

  “Bailey,” Connor said, “show the research bases on the map.”

  “Sorry,” Bailey said and tapped a few commands into the interface.

  The output on the map updated.

  “There!” Connor said.

  Forward Operating Research Base number 97 was a short distance off from the line.

  “This doesn’t prove anything. We don’t have a location for the source of the signal. We just know the general direction, and that happens to be in the direction of the base,” Tobias said.

  “You’re right,” Connor said, “but we should investigate. Has Mills checked in?”

  Tobias frowned. “Franklin,” the governor said and conveyed his opinion on the matter.

  “Connor, 97 has had communications issues at least a half a dozen times. It’s one of the things Noah keeps having to fix,” Mallory said.

  Every instinct in Connor’s gut shouted that there was trouble at that base. “Lenora said they’d found more alien ruins near the base. What if the signal is from something they’ve found?”

  “That’s a hell of a leap, even for you,” Tobias said.

  “You didn’t see how the ryklars reacted to the signal,” Connor said.

  “How do you know they reacted to the signal at all? We don’t know when it began,” Tobias said.

  “Let me take my team and go investigate,” Connor said.

  Tobias’s eyes widened.

  “Mills took a team out there to assess the situation. If they have an issue or observe any ryklars in the area, he’ll report it,” Franklin said.

  Connor glanced at the two men. Neither looked as if they were inclined to listen to him. “Can you at least send a warning to Mills?”

  “I know you and Damon got off on the wrong foot, but he’s really quite capable. I’ll have the watch commander send him a message,” Franklin said.

  The Director of Fields Ops walked away, and Tobias regarded Connor for a moment.

  “I was against Sean joining Search and Rescue, but I’ve seen some real changes in him. I need to level with you. Sean is meant for more than a glorified soldier. I hope you realize that,” Tobias said.

  “You should speak to your son about what he wants instead of telling me about your plans for him,” Connor said.

  Tobias’s nostrils flared as he tried to control his temper. Connor left the governor and took a closer look at the information on the main wallscreen.

  Franklin met up with Connor. “The watch commander will keep us apprised of the situation,” he said and guided Connor from the command center.

  Connor felt that they were making a mistake, but his arguments for sending his team had fallen short. Even he acknowledged that his reasoning had a number of flaws to it and that any chain of command would have done as Franklin Mallory was doing right now. Connor established a network connection to the command center so he’d have a firsthand look at any new developments. If Mills missed a check-in, he’d take his own squad to investigate, with or without permission.

  22

  Connor spent the rest of the day noting equipment locations and visiting the munitions depot to confirm that his access still worked. He didn’t have reason to believe otherwise, but it didn’t hurt to check. While there, he put in a requisition for a shipment of high-density nano-robotic ammunition to be delivered to the Hellcat. The desk sergeant reviewed the requisition and gave Connor a hard look.

  “This is for that new squad?”

  Connor nodded. “That’s right. Is there a problem?”

  The desk sergeant shook his head. “Not at all, Colonel. My name is Williams, sir, and I just wanted you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for Field Ops.”

  Williams stuck his hand out and Connor shook it.

  “Have we met?” Connor asked.

  “Not exactly, sir, but my wife was with the security detail you assisted a few months ago. I’ll have the boys deliver this to your ship right away. Regarding your ship . . .” Williams said.

  “What about it?”


  “I noticed the Hellcat isn’t outfitted with the main gun.”

  “That’s right. It was supposed to follow in a different container,” Connor replied.

  Williams nodded. “We’ve got it here. Just say the word and I can have it mounted.”

  Connor’s eyes widened. “That would be great. If I had any, I’d give you a bottle of Kentucky’s finest bourbon.”

  Williams held up his hand and shook his head. “No need. I’m a scotch man myself and a group of us have a batch of Canadian whiskey that’ll be ready soon. You join us for a drink some time and we’ll call it even.”

  Connor said he would and left the munitions depot, heading for the armory. He spotted Sean Quinn following him and waved him over.

  “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating?” Connor asked.

  “I was, but a friend of mine overheard you in the command center. Do you think there’s trouble in one of the research bases, sir?” Sean asked.

  Connor glanced around to be sure they weren’t being overheard. “Who talked?”

  “Sir?”

  Connor gave him a hard look and the denial fled Sean’s face.

  “Lars Mallory told me,” Sean said.

  Connor nodded, remembering that Lars, Sean, and Noah were all friends.

  “It could be nothing. Mills took a team out to a research base that went offline,” Connor said.

  Sean looked unconvinced. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Respectfully, sir, that’s a load of garbage. If you really thought there wasn’t going to be any trouble, you wouldn’t be moving supplies to the Hellcat. ‘Hope for the best but prepare for the worst’ is how you put it, sir,” Sean said.

  Connor met the kid’s challenging stare. “You’re right. I think there’s a problem at the research base.”

  “Are we going on a mission?” Sean asked excitedly.

  “Keep your voice down,” Connor said.

  “Sorry, sir. Which base is it? Where is it?”

  Connor walked away from the armory doors and Sean followed him. “It’s 97.”

  Sean frowned and then his eyes lit with sudden comprehension. “Oh my god! Noah’s there!”