First Colony: Books 1 - 3

by Ken Lozito

  Only a few people knew Connor had returned to the planet and he aimed to keep it that way for now. He had Noah going through the data Reisman had taken from the Indianapolis, which was hitting the “mother lode,” as Noah liked to put it, in terms of learning about their enemy. One of the first orders of business Connor initiated from quarantine was to reposition their deep-space sensor array. At the same time, he’d ordered salvage crews to extract the Vemus communication protocols from the Vigilant’s comms systems.

  “I think our bird has finally come home, sir,” Sean said.

  Connor waited in a darkened office in the governor’s residence. They’d easily disabled the security forces stationed at the governor’s home, and Stanton Parish was on his way home. There had been celebrations of their “victory” over the Vemus, and Governor Parish had no end of speeches to give commemorating the occasion. Connor had brought a team of special CDF forces with him that was led by the newly promoted Major Sean Quinn. He deserved the promotion and was smart enough to know there was a lot more work coming his way.

  “Target has entered the premises,” Sean said.

  Connor leaned against the wall in the shadows. The governor’s desk was on the far side of the room. Connor had been to this office often over the years when Tobias Quinn had been governor but not so much since Stanton Parish had been elected. Connor heard Stanton’s voice outside the office doors and then they opened.

  Parish walked into the office and the interior lighting slowly illuminated to a casual brilliance. He walked over to his bar and poured himself a glass of scotch. Connor heard the ice hit the glass and then cleared his throat.

  Parish spun around, spilling some of his drink. “Who’s there?”

  Connor stepped from the shadowy confines of the dark corner. “Hello, Governor.”

  “General Gates. I’m surprised to see you here,” Parish said, blanching.

  Connor didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slowly crossed the room.

  “I thought you and I needed to have a private chat. Why don’t you have a seat?” Connor said.

  Parish glanced at the door.

  “Don’t worry, we won’t be disturbed. My men have your security forces detained for the moment,” Connor said and sat down.

  Parish swallowed hard and walked over to sit at his desk. “When did you get out of quarantine?”

  Connor narrowed his gaze for a moment. “You’d be better served to just listen for the moment while I put the cards out on the table. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Parish drained his scotch and set the glass on his desk with shaking hands. There was no question in Connor’s mind that the man was afraid of him, as he should be. He’d thought long and hard about being in Parish’s presence again.

  “You tried to kill me,” Connor said.

  Parish’s eyes widened. “That’s absurd. I would never do such a thing. You’re a hero. You saved us from the Vemus—”

  Connor slammed his fist on the desk and Parish jumped. “You don’t get to call me a hero. Not now. Not ever. I may not have the evidence to prove what you tried to have done to me, but I know it was you who put the pieces in motion.”

  Parish began to protest and Connor leaped from his chair and launched himself across the desk. He grabbed Parish by his shirt and slammed the man against the wall. “Colonel Ian Howe died a horrible death because of you, because your man screwed up while following your orders. Do you have any idea how painful it is to die of radiation poisoning? The utter collapse of your entire body? Here, have a look,” Connor growled.

  He slammed Parish down onto his desk and held him in place. Connor used his implants and sent a video feed to the nearest wallscreen. A deathly pale man lay on a bed in the Vigilant’s infirmary.

  “Look at it,” Connor said and grabbed Parish’s head, making him look at the screen. “We kept Ian in a coma because he was in so much pain. We had fifteen more soldiers suffering from milder cases of radiation poisoning, including Major Nathan Hayes. With one fell swoop, your efforts to have me killed almost took out the senior officers serving on the Vigilant right before the Vemus attacked.”

  Parish gasped for breath. “I didn’t know. You have to believe me. I didn’t know that was going to happen. I’m sorry.”

  Connor stepped back from the governor and sneered. “You’re sorry. The enemy we were warned about has come and you’re playing a petty scheme?”

  Parish pushed himself up and staggered back against the wall. “I was wrong. I didn’t know how wrong I was.”

  “Who else was working with you?” Connor asked while unholstering his sidearm.

  “No one else!” Parish cried. “I swear, it was just Toro. That’s it; he was my contact.”

  Connor glanced at his sidearm as if considering whether or not he was going to shoot the governor. Then he holstered his weapon. “I’m not going to kill you. While it would be immensely satisfying to me, it would set us back. This war isn’t over.”

  Parish blinked and he opened his mouth. “What do you mean it isn’t over? You stopped the Vemus fleet. Nothing has been detected from our sensors.”

  Connor sucked in a breath and sighed. “This wasn’t the main fleet. They were being controlled.”

  Parish’s eyes widened. “Not the main fleet? Over a thousand ships came. How many more could there be?”

  “We don’t know. They sent a scout force to soften our defenses, learn what we’re capable of. When they come at us again, they’ll bring the full measure of their attack force,” Connor said.

  Parish was silent for a moment and licked his lips. “How do you know this?”

  “We found their control signal. It was how we stopped them. We interfered with the signal, which sent their fleet into disarray. Otherwise, they would have gotten past all our defenses,” Connor said.

  “My God,” Parish said and swallowed hard. “What do we do?”

  Connor glared at the man. There were so few of them left that Connor knew they needed every able-bodied person if they were going to have a chance of survival.

  “Why is it that men like you make your speeches and look at soldiers like me as a necessary evil, but when your life’s in danger, you look to me to save it for you,” Connor said with a sneer.

  He took a few steps away, not trusting himself to be near the governor.

  “I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear? I was wrong. Now tell me how we can survive what’s coming,” Parish said.

  Connor shook his head. “That’s just it. I don’t know if we can survive.”

  Parish stepped around the desk. “You must have something in mind, some kind of plan. We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you.”

  “Not me,” Connor said. “Thousands of CDF soldiers gave their lives so you could talk about victories at public events.”

  Parish held his hands in front his chest in a placating gesture. “What do you want me to say? The public has a right to know. They need to celebrate those victories. It gives them hope.”

  “You’re just making up for all the doubt you’ve sown for the past year you’ve been in office. I can’t fight an enemy with my men conflicted about what they’re fighting for,” Connor said.

  “All that is done now. You’ll have whatever you need,” Parish said.

  Bile crept up Connor’s throat. The governor stank of fear and was now trying to barter away everything he could to ensure his survival.

  “I know I’ll get whatever I need now. I may not be able to prove in a court of law that you tried to have me killed and worked to manipulate the Colonial Defense Force in such a way as to sow dissent among our ranks, but you represent a sickness, a cancer that needs to be removed,” Connor said.

  Parish stepped back. “You said you wouldn’t kill me.”

  Connor nodded. “You’re right; I’m not going to kill you. You’ll always know where you stand with me. I have a question for you.”

  Parish pressed his lips together. “What?”

  “How
badly do you want to survive? Would you give anything so the colony can survive?” Connor asked.

  “Yes, of course I would,” Parish said.

  “Are you sure? Because that’s what it’s going to take. Setting aside our differences and coming together is what I think is going to give us our best chance.”

  “You’re one hundred percent right.”

  “I’m glad you think that way. So you won’t have any objections to stepping down as governor then?” Connor asked.

  Parish’s face twisted into a confused frown. “What . . . stepping down? I’m not sure I understood you correctly.”

  “I think you understood me perfectly. You’ve spent the last year running the CDF around in circles, denying critical requests. I think the only way forward is for you to step down as governor of the colony,” Connor said.

  “Who would take my place? You?” Parish asked.

  Connor’s lips lifted into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not me.”

  “Who then?”

  “There’s a fascinating bit under emergency powers in the articles of the colony from subsection thirty-six. It talks about an elected official who’s called upon to deal with a situation he’s not equipped to deal with,” Connor said.

  Parish looked away.

  “This is your chance to atone. Step down and restore Tobias Quinn as governor of the colony. He understands the threat we face,” Connor said.

  Parish turned away and brought his hands to his hips, his head hung low. “Alright, you win. I’ll do it. I’ll call a press conference in the morning and announce my resignation.”

  “There will be a press conference called tomorrow, but not by you,” Connor said.

  Parish turned back toward him in alarm.

  “Governor Quinn, did you get that?” Connor asked while showing the comms channel he’d had active since Parish had entered the office. The wallscreen changed to show Tobias Quinn’s face.

  “Yes, I did,” Tobias said and looked at Parish. “We have it on record, and I would strongly caution you against making the argument that you’re abdicating the governor’s seat under duress. We’ll handle the formal transfer tomorrow, but effective immediately, the powers of the governor are transferred to me. Do you concur?”

  Parish glanced at Connor for a moment. “Yes,” he said in a tight voice.

  “Good,” Connor said. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Thank you,” Tobias said. “Franklin is waiting for you at CDF headquarters with a full staff.”

  Connor left the office. Tobias would handle the legality of what had just transpired and then they would all regroup in the morning. In the hall, CDF soldiers stood over the governor’s security personnel, who were lined up against the wall.

  Connor walked over to Sean. “Leave a team here to secure the residence and make sure Parish doesn’t try anything. You and the rest of the team will be coming with me to CDF headquarters.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sean said and issued orders to the men who were staying behind.

  Sean caught up to Connor. “I’d say the hard part is over, but that would be a lie.”

  They headed to the troop carrier that was standing by. “You’re right. The hard part is just beginning, but we have an idea of what to expect now.”

  They climbed aboard the troop carrier, which left the governor’s residence. It was in these quiet moments that he felt the loss of his old friends and those from the colony. He still felt that Kasey and Wil were just a simple comlink away. He’d come to rely on them as trusted confidants. He wanted their counsel now more than ever as people looked to him to come up with a way to defend them against the Vemus.

  The door to the cockpit opened and Connor heard the heavy thuds of combat boots trudging along. He glanced up and saw Juan Diaz staring down at him.

  Diaz gave a playful punch to Sean’s arm. “He’s got that look again, that look that says the world is riding on his shoulders. Don’t worry, General, we got your back. Always have. Always will.”

  Connor felt his face lift into his first genuine smile in a long time. “It’s good to see you.”

  Diaz plopped down in the seat next to Connor. “I have to admit, I almost hoped we were wrong.”

  Connor nodded. “So did I,” he said and sighed.

  Diaz glanced over at him. “Focus, Connor, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Author Note

  Hello,

  I hope you’re enjoying the First Colony series. There is a small part of this book that is based on actual events. The event in question involves the collection of a lot of frogs, a five-gallon bucket, and the women’s bathroom at an undisclosed campground. The incident unfolded pretty much as Wil Reisman describes for Connor. There wasn’t a whole lot of thought that went into the actions of my ten-year-old self and the others who were there that night. If you’re a member of the opposite sex who happens to be reading this, then the forty-something that is me apologizes but the ten-year-old cannot stop grinning. Boys will be boys.

  There is another book (Legacy - First Colony - Book 3) that immediately follows this note, but while you’re here…

  Please consider leaving a review for this book.

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  Legacy

  First Colony - Book 3

  1

  (Two hundred years before the Ark reached New Earth)

  Fleet Admiral Mitch Wilkinson’s stooped form walked the bridge of the battleship carrier Indianapolis. Once, this vessel had been the flagship of the NA Alliance Navy, but now it was a solitary life raft for the precious few survivors remaining in the birthplace of humanity. The Vemus had changed everything, spreading across the planet like an untamed plague. But even considering all the destruction wrought by the enemy, humans hadn’t been able to overcome certain behaviors of their own that had been consistent throughout their existence—the burning desire for power. Greed and corruption had doomed the human race on Earth.

  Twenty years earlier, when he’d smuggled Connor Gates and the rest of the Ghost Platoon aboard the Ark, he never would have guessed that mankind’s first interstellar colony would be the key to the survival of their entire species. Mitch had been an old man even then. After the Ark was on its way, he’d planned on a quiet retirement while keeping his promise to watch over the son Connor had left behind. It had been a good plan.

  Mitch glanced over at the young man who was speaking with Dr. Stone. There were times when the light caught his facial features in such a way that he reminded Mitch of Connor. Mitch had plucked Sean Gates from Earth before the Vemus had really begun to spread. He’d brought the boy aboard the Indianapolis as part of an internship awarded to survivors of fallen veterans. While Mitch knew Connor was very much alive, he’d leveraged his “death” as a means of keeping Sean Gates close to him.

  Sean looked over at him. “We’re ready to execute our final broadcast, Admiral.”

  Wilkinson turned his slate-blue eyes toward Sean. “Acknowledged,” he replied.

  The Vemus had developed an insatiable appetite for humans, and now there was evidence that they would even venture out beyond the solar system in pursuit of the last of them. In a final effort to give the colonists a chance of survival, Dr. Stone was running some last-minute checks of their most ambitious undertaking to date.

  “Elizabeth,” Mitch said, “going back through it for the thousandth time isn’t going to change anything.”

  Dr. Stone turned her gray-haired head toward him and then closed down the holoscreen she’d been working from. After speaking softly to her assistant, she walked over to Mitch.

  “It’s ready. I just wish . . .” Elizabeth said.

&nb
sp; Mitch nodded knowingly. “We all do.”

  The Indianapolis may have been a ship of the wall, but it was now only a shell of what it had been. The vast stockpiles of armament once kept there had long been used up and the weapons they’d managed to keep online were based on energy beams. They had no missiles and there had been no resupply missions in the past ten years—not since the governments of Earth had all collapsed and the militaries had splintered into groups that focused on gathering the remaining resources for themselves.

  Earth had been lost to them. For a while they’d scraped together an existence on space stations and solar colonies, but those were gone now, too. It had taken thousands of years for mankind to rise from its meager beginnings and—for a brief stint that began during the twenty-first century—had seemed to achieve a golden age of technological wonders. But humanity’s fall into barbarism had been swift when the Vemus spread to the solar colonies, taking on a form that none of the survivors had been prepared to face. Mitch had banded together with a faction of the old NA Alliance Navy to try and secure a future, but the Vemus were too strong. They adapted too quickly and there simply weren’t enough humans left to fight them. None of those who’d fought the Vemus had even the appearance of being human anymore.

  Mitch glanced over at Dr. Stone. She’d found him five years ago, bringing refugees to a space station that orbited Ganymede. Jupiter’s largest moon had become a haven. It was there that the brilliant Dr. Stone had eventually convinced him they only had one chance at survival and that all the people in the solar system were already dead, including the two of them; it was just a matter of time.

  Mitch had denied the claim at first, believing her to be yet another brilliant scientist who couldn’t cope with one of the darkest moments in human history. But shortly after that, remnants of Earth’s space navies had begun fighting each other. Men and women Mitch had been friends with had either been killed or given in to despair and made a mad grab for power so their last days could have some semblance of comfort. Then the first Vemus ships from Earth had shown up at the colonies, preying on the survivors. Mitch had taken his most trusted tacticians and tried to come up with a way to survive, but the fact of the matter was that all their projections proved there was absolutely no chance. They could only succeed in delaying the inevitable. The Vemus had adapted and hunted only humans. Mitch didn’t understand how a parasitic organism discovered deep in Earth’s oceans could have decimated mammalian life on Earth, but that’s exactly what had happened. Then it started targeting humans exclusively, and the real fight had begun.