First Colony: Books 1 - 3

by Ken Lozito

  The big Vemus soldier turned back around, and its pointed snout revealed a line of sharp teeth. Jon fired his weapon, hitting it in the chest and muscled shoulders. The Vemus went down and then struggled to rise.

  Sergeant Lee grabbed him. “He’s gone. We have to go.”

  They turned and ran, heading for the airlock. Jon was the last one inside and they quickly shut the door. Jon looked through the window and saw the Vemus soldier he’d just shot rise to his feet and charge toward the airlock doors.

  They ran into the combat shuttle.

  “Cover that door,” Jon said and ran toward the cockpit.

  The combat shuttle was on standby and quickly came to full power. He heard something slamming against the shuttle’s airlock doors. He disengaged the docking clamps and used the maneuvering thrusters to get away from the wreckage. Outside the shuttle’s windows he saw dark shapes pouring out of the airlock into the vacuum. Jon didn’t wait around. He engaged the main engines and sped away. Once they reached a safe distance, he fired a pair of hornet missiles, targeting the wreckage. There was a bright flash as the large chunk was blown apart.

  “Captain, we have to follow decontamination protocols,” Corporal Sims called out.

  Jon inputted the coordinates for Lunar Base and set the navigation system on auto. It would be slow going since they were in a debris field, but he wasn’t in a rush to go anywhere.

  Jon climbed out of the chair and headed to the rear of the shuttle. He heard Sergeant Lee arguing with Corporal Sims.

  “Captain, tell him to remain on his own life support. We have to follow emergency decontamination protocols, which now includes the shuttle,” Corporal Sims said.

  Jon looked over at Sergeant Lee, who was rocking back and forth, not making eye contact with anyone. He kept muttering about needing to get out of his combat suit.

  “Roger, look at me,” Jon said.

  Sergeant Lee looked up at him.

  “I need you to stay in that suit just a little longer. Can you do that?” Jon asked. His head was pounding and he felt like everything was trying to push its way out, but he tried to appear as calm as he sounded. “Alright. Just sit tight for a moment. We need to make sure we’re not contaminated,” Jon said.

  Sergeant Lee gave a slight nod and continued to rock back and forth.

  Jon looked back at Corporal Sims. “He’ll be alright. Remind me again what we need to do.”

  Corporal Sims swallowed hard. “We need to vent the shuttle for a few minutes. The exposure should take care of anything that might have gotten on our suits.”

  Jon nodded. “Lieutenant Chester, prepare to vent the shuttle. Once we’re vented, we’ll open the rear hatch.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Lieutenant Chester said and went to the rear of the shuttle.

  There was a loud hiss as their atmosphere was sucked out of the shuttle. Auto-tethers attached to the back of their combat suits. Jon knew it was just a precaution, but he wouldn’t want to risk being sucked out of the shuttle without a tether attached.

  “Atmosphere vented. Opening the hatch and shutting down the heaters,” Lieutenant Chester said.

  The rear hatch opened and the debris field spread out before them. They waited the allotted time for the extreme cold to kill any microorganism they’d been exposed to on the Vemus ship.

  Corporal Sims scanned them with the bioscanner. “We’re clear, Captain.”

  “Close it up, Lieutenant,” Jon said.

  The rear hatch closed and they pressurized the shuttle. The heaters quickly brought the shuttle’s interior up to acceptable temperatures and they were able to get out of their combat suits.

  Sergeant Lee came over to him. “I’m sorry, Captain. Not sure what came over me. It was as if everything was closing in on me.”

  “It’s fine, Sergeant. You stayed in control and followed orders,” Jon said.

  Jon felt his chest clench. Brian was gone. His brother was dead and they’d lost Specialist Thoran.

  “We need to talk about what happened, Captain,” Lieutenant Chester said.

  Sorrow closed up his throat for a moment and Jon swallowed hard.

  “Captain?” Lieutenant Chester asked softly.

  “I’m alright. I just need a second, Daron,” Jon said and looked away.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead, feeling the stinging behind his eyes. “Damn it, Brian! Why did you have to go on that mission?” he said and looked at the others. “He should have been in the lab, not out on some salvage recon mission.”

  Lieutenant Chester regarded him for a moment. “What did he say happened?”

  “He said they’d been captured. They were infected,” Jon said.

  Lieutenant Chester frowned. “I saw the room. He shot all of them.”

  Jon winced, remembering the sight of the dead salvage team members. “He said they were already dead.”

  “You knew him best. Could he have just lost it? You know, cracked under the pressure of being captured?” Lieutenant Chester asked.

  Jon thought about it and shook his head. “Brian never lost his temper or anything like that. He was strong. He knew what he was doing. He was—”

  Jon winced as a wave of grief slammed into him. He forced it back. “He wasn’t crazy.”

  “What do we do now?” Corporal Sims asked.

  Jon sighed. “We go back to Lunar Base.”

  “Empty-handed. We couldn’t even rescue them,” Sergeant Lee said.

  “Not empty-handed. Brian learned something while they were on that wreckage. He said it was something we could use to stop the Vemus. We have to get the data he uploaded to my suit back to Lunar Base,” Jon said.

  “What’s in the data?” Lieutenant Chester asked.

  “I don’t know, but I think it’s time we have a look and see what was worth them dying for, don’t you?” Jon replied.

  19

  Connor sat in the commander’s chair at Phoenix Station’s main Command Center. Despite taking massive amounts of damage, the Vemus Alpha had increased speed after the Colonial Defense Force’s surprise attack. They’d had the high-res optical array focused on the Vemus Alpha ship, and the images showed massive impacts to the colossal ship. Deep chasms were revealed in the exoskeletal hull that hadn’t started to regenerate, but the ship hadn’t altered course either.

  Phoenix Station was directly in its path.

  “General,” Lieutenant Daniels said. “I have Captains Mason and Saunders from the Bravo and Charlie sub-Command Centers on comms.”

  “Put them through to my station, Lieutenant,” Connor replied.

  The holoscreen flickered on, and Captain Wade Mason and Captain Evelyn Saunders appeared on his screen.

  “Station separation is just about ready. Can you confirm your status?” Connor asked.

  “Bravo station is ready for separation from the main, General,” Captain Mason said.

  “Charlie station is ready as well, General,” Captain Saunders said.

  “Very well. We’ll stay networked for as long as possible so our attacks can be coordinated, but I’m going to level with both of you. At some point it won’t be possible. In that moment, your only mandate is to fire your station’s weapons at the enemy for as long as possible. Is that clear?” Connor asked.

  “Yes, General,” the two captains said.

  Connor looked at the station sub-commanders on his holoscreen. Beneath the brave facade were two officers as green as anyone else untested in combat. He’d considered reassigning Major Elder to one of the substations but decided to keep him at Phoenix Station Main with him. One went into battle with the army one had.

  “This is what we trained for. Remember your training. We have an objective to achieve. It’s as simple as that,” Connor said.

  “We won’t let you down, General,” Captain Mason said.

  “I know you won’t. Now, the second wave of our attack will begin once we reach our target coordinates. Good luck to you both,” Connor said.


  Both captains repeated the sentiment. They knew the stakes and thought they knew what it was going to be like when the end finally came. But Connor had been in enough dangerous situations to know that when death does finally claim you, it’s when you least expect it. He cut the comlink, and the holoscreen powered off.

  Phoenix Station was made up of ten large sections. Each of the sections could be self-contained and operate autonomously, though there were only three Command Centers. Connor had decided to break Phoenix Station up into three primary sections, with the central section containing four subsections while the two remaining groups were comprised of three subsections. He thought that the Vemus Alpha having multiple targets would enable the CDF to strike another devastating blow. Over sixty-five percent of the HADES IV-B missiles had reached their target before the Vemus unleashed their countermeasures that took out the command-and-control units. If all the Command Centers were to become inoperable, the burden of engaging the enemy would fall to individual gun-battery commanders.

  “At least the wave of Condor missiles is over,” Major Elder said. He sat in the executive officer’s station next to Connor.

  “I think they fired them just to give us something to do,” Connor said.

  “They fired thousands of missiles at us to occupy us until they could get here to finish the job? I’m not sure I understand those tactics,” Major Elder said.

  “Condor missiles are the NA Alliance Military’s design for long-range engagements. Our HADES IV-Bs have better targeting systems,” Connor said.

  “Thank god for that,” Major Elder said.

  Connor agreed. In addition, their point-defense lasers were able to confuse the Condor missiles’ guidance systems enough that they could disable them completely. Once compromised, the fact that the Condor missiles didn’t retarget reaffirmed Connor’s conclusion that those missiles weren’t the real attack. It had been a bullying tactic by an enemy that knew the superiority of its position and attack force.

  “Ops, has there been any detection of the Vemus control signal?” Connor asked.

  “Negative, General,” Lieutenant Rawn said.

  “Alright,” Connor said. He strongly believed that the Vemus had other ships tucked away in that Alpha, but they hadn’t detected them. “You’re a go to disengage station sections three and eight,” Connor said.

  “Confirmed, General. Disengaging sections three and eight,” Lieutenant Rawn said.

  Connor looked at the main holoscreen, which showed a live video feed of the locking clamps that held Phoenix Station together. There was a brief flash that simultaneously appeared on all the video feeds.

  “Station sections disengaged, General,” Lieutenant Rawn said.

  “Acknowledged,” Connor said.

  He watched as the maneuvering thrusters pushed the two sections away from them. He glanced over to his left and noted the empty space beside him. It had been nearly fifteen hours since he’d sent Colonel Cross and Major Quinn back to New Earth, but he still found himself looking for Sean. He didn’t regret his decision to put Sean in charge of the CDF ground forces, but he did miss him.

  “General,” Major Elder said.

  Connor looked up and saw Captain Randle walking toward the command area. Standing at six feet, seven inches tall, Wayne Randle was a giant among men. The working CDF soldiers seemed to part ways, allowing the big man to pass.

  “Good of you to join us, Bull,” Connor said, using the designation he’d given Captain Randle in Search and Rescue all those years before.

  “Wouldn’t miss this, General. I’ve come to inform you that most of the drill-mines have successfully sent in return statuses,” Captain Randle said.

  “So they made it to the Vemus Alpha,” Connor said.

  “Yes, they should be drilling beneath that exoskeleton of theirs, sir,” Captain Randle said.

  “Should? We don’t know for sure, Captain Randle?” Major Elder asked.

  “No, Major. This is a low-tech solution whereby we can receive only a confirmation that they reached the surface of the Vemus Alpha. The timer starts and they’ll detonate the explosive payload at whatever level they reach,” Captain Randle said.

  “Is there any way to determine how deep those drills will get before they detonate, Captain?” Major Elder asked.

  “It depends on how thick that exoskeletal hull is and when those drill heads come into contact with the hardened alloy of the battle-steel hull of a ship. The drill heads can chew through quite a bit before they’ll eventually dull. We’ve staggered the timers so when they do detonate, we can maximize the damage to the ship. Worst case is that the drill-heads are only able to penetrate twenty or so meters before they detonate, sir,” Captain Randle said.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Connor said.

  “General, with your permission I’d like to stay by your side,” Captain Randle said.

  Connor arched a brow while considering. “Did Major Quinn happen to put you up to this?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that Major Quinn sent me any informal instructions upon his departure from Phoenix Station, General,” Captain Randle said with only a hint of a smile appearing over his wide jaw.

  Connor snorted. “Alright, Captain. You can help Captain Thorne at Tactical.”

  “Yes, General,” Captain Randle said and went over to the tactical work area.

  Connor looked over at the PRADIS output on one of the secondary holoscreens. The Vemus Alpha was still coming steadily toward them. It hadn’t changed its trajectory and Connor couldn’t order Phoenix Station to be moved. They would make their stand here. He opened a broadcast channel.

  “This is General Gates. By now you’ve been informed that we’re about to begin our engagement with the enemy. We drew the line here on the doorstep to our home. Thousands of people are depending on us. For the first time in human history, we’re fighting for something that’s unprecedented—our right to survive as a species. On this day we will stand together and in one voice scream into the void. Our enemy will know what we can do—that we will not be vanquished without a fight. This was to be a colony founded upon peace, moving beyond the hundreds of years of conflicts throughout history. None of you deserve to have to fight in this war. None of our families deserve to die at the hands of our enemies. We few, standing here, looking into the mouth of the dragon and showing our enemy what we’re worth, are all that stands between us and them, to stop them from killing us all. We stand together. We fight together. And we’ll die together if that’s what it takes. Many of you know who I am, that I used to serve with an elite special-forces platoon. We were legends. But all of you are part of the Colonial Defense Force and are much more than the Ghosts ever were. You fight for something beyond anything we ever did. The Ghosts had a motto, and I’ll give it to you. Remember these words as we face our enemy. ‘We are the unsung heroes. We are the quiet protectors. We roam through the darkest nights and through the deepest valleys. We choose to stand the watch. No enemy is beyond our power. We are the Colonial Defense Force!’”

  The soldiers in the command area cheered.

  “Ten-hut!” Captain Randle’s voice boomed.

  The cheering CDF soldiers became quiet almost instantly as all of them stood with their arms at their sides and their shoulders back at attention.

  “CDF salute!” Captain Randle shouted.

  As one, the CDF soldiers saluted Connor. He raised his chin and felt his chest swell with pride as he returned the salute in kind. The soldiers returned to their stations with renewed vigor.

  Major Elder leaned toward Connor. “Thank you, sir. They needed that, and, frankly, so did I.”

  Connor nodded grimly. “Too bad pretty speeches won’t stop the Vemus.”

  “I had no idea that the NA Alliance Special Forces had a motto like that, sir,” Major Elder said.

  Connor glanced at the major. There was no one on this station who knew the truth.

  Major Elder frowned and his eyes widened.

 
“I’ll say whatever I need to so the men and women in the CDF can focus on their jobs,” Connor said.

  Major Elder nodded. “I understand, sir.”

  “I know you do. Now, we have a job to do,” Connor said.

  Connor went back to the command chair. “Tactical, what’s the status of the Vemus Alpha?”

  “They’re within energy weapons range. We were keeping the kinetic weapons in reserve, General,” Captain Thorne said.

  “I need a firing solution targeting the damaged areas of the enemy ship. Let’s see if we can peel back a few more layers and make them bleed some more,” Connor said.

  “Yes, General,” Captain Thorne said. A few minutes passed. “Firing solution ready. Specs are on the main holoscreen, General.”

  Connor looked up at the screen. “One change to that, Captain. Phoenix Station Main will fire first, then Bravo and Charlie sections.”

  “Yes, General, updating targeting parameters now,” Captain Thorne replied. Connor waited for confirmation from Bravo and Charlie sections.

  “Fire!” Connor said.

  As the twenty-two-kilometer Vemus Alpha blasted through space, heading for Phoenix Station, a rounded projector swiveled above one of the top sections of the main Phoenix Station group. The magnetic actuators steered the stored-up energy to a wide-open port, and a thick particle beam of protons shot forth in a lance of pale blue light. The proton beam penetrated the Vemus exoskeletal hull before it had to be cycled. Moments later, beams from Bravo and Charlie subsections also cut deeply into the hull of the enemy ship.

  “Vemus Alpha taking damage, General,” Captain Thorne said.

  “Keep firing on them. Ready plasma cannons,” Connor said.

  They had to keep hitting the enemy ship for as long as they could, and Connor approved the plasma cannon firing solution. Phoenix Station’s stabilizing engines went into overdrive to keep them in position. The lights in Phoenix Station’s Command Center dimmed as the plasma cannons charged off the main reactor. Next, Connor heard the rapid cadence of magnetically encased plasma bolts being fired into the vacuum. As the bolts traveled, the fusion cores reached a maximum yield in the multi-megaton range. The superheated plasma bolts slammed into the Vemus Alpha. The power draw from Phoenix Station’s multiple fusion reactor cores was immense. Connor had the engineers override the safeties so they could run the reactors at critical levels. They needed every ounce of power they could get. Unlike when the Vemus had faced Titan Station, which operated at half the capacity possible, Phoenix Station had an excess of power yield. The reactor cores had been designed for a Barracuda-class battleship carrier and could handle the load.