by Ken Lozito
Dr. Kim’s eyes widened. “Me? Go with you?”
“Will that be a problem?” Connor asked.
“We have a mobile lab that we can put on the shuttle, but we haven’t perfected the process. I’m not sure we can do what you require in the time we have,” Dr. Kim said.
“We don’t have a choice. Lunar Base is reporting Vemus scout ships are searching the main continent. It’s only a matter of time before they discover where we’ve hidden our friends and families,” Connor said.
Dr. Kim’s gaze darted around.
“General,” Major Elder said, “why don’t I stay behind and help Dr. Kim?”
“I think that would be best,” Connor said. “One more thing. We need to send whatever method you come up with for creating this weapon to Lunar Base and they’ll broadcast it to the colony.”
Dr. Kim frowned in confusion.
“This way, if we fail, at least whoever’s left will have a fighting chance. Some chance is better than none at all,” Connor said.
Dr. Kim swallowed. “I’ll do my very best, General.”
Connor nodded and looked at Major Elder. “I’ll see you in one hour in the hangar bay.”
He left the lab, Captains Walker and Randle following him.
“General, I’d like to be on the away team,” Captain Walker said.
“And there’s no way you’re going without me, sir,” Captain Randle said.
“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you guys behind. I aim to bring everyone I can on this. We’re going to end this thing one way or another,” Connor said.
“Looking forward to it, sir. I’ll head to the hangar bay and see about getting the combat shuttles we have ready to fly,” Captain Walker said.
Connor and Captain Randle went back to the Command Center. They had a lot of work to do and very little time to get it done. Captain Thorne saluted Connor as he approached the command area.
“Captain Thorne, I need to know what we have left regarding infantry weapons and combat suits. Everything. Do we have enough to equip every able-bodied person left on this station?” Connor asked.
Captain Thorne blinked his eyes a few times while he processed Connor’s request. “I need a few minutes to look that up, sir.”
“Understood, Captain,” Connor said and looked at Lieutenant Rawn. “Ops, I need an intercept course that will take us right to the Vemus Alpha executed at once. Best speed possible.”
“Right away, General,” Lieutenant Rawn said and began typing furiously on his holo-interface. “Course laid in. Best speed will put us there in five hours.”
Connor frowned. Five hours wasn’t the best time he could have hoped for, but it was what he had to work with. “Course correction, Lieutenant. Put us in geosynchronous orbit with New Earth. Should be about the same travel time.”
“Yes, sir. Course correction updated,” Lieutenant Rawn said.
“Very well,” Connor replied.
“I have those figures you asked for, General,” Captain Thorne said.
Connor went over to the tactical workstation with Captain Randle at his side. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”
30
Nathan had hardly left the Command Center on Lunar Base, and instead of returning to the mission briefing room, he had his staff join him there. After spending the last several hours planning their attack on the Vemus Alpha, they detected multiple nuclear detonations on the planet where the cities of the colony had been. Delphi had been the first to be destroyed, and within a few hours, New Haven followed. It wasn’t until ten hours afterward that there was a massive nuclear explosion at Sierra. He immediately sent an update to Connor on Phoenix Station. Lunar Base had later received an encoded message simply stating that the CDF ground forces were still intact.
Learning that the colony’s three major cities had been destroyed was hard to take, but it was Connor who’d figured out what Major Quinn had done. There was brutal efficiency in the plan Major Quinn had employed in his fight against the Vemus. Nathan wasn’t sure he could have even conceived it. Though he outranked Major Sean Quinn, Nathan knew the man was a brilliant strategist and he found himself wondering what Sean would do if he were in command of Lunar Base. There were times when Nathan felt his own promotion to colonel had been born out of necessity rather than achievement. But regardless of the reasons General Gates had promoted him, he would carry out his orders and achieve the objectives of the CDF to the best of his ability.
“Tactical, have those Vemus scout ships returned?” Nathan asked.
“Negative, Colonel. They haven’t been seen since they entered New Earth’s atmosphere,” Lieutenant LaCroix said.
Nathan pressed his lips together. They could only guess how long those scout ships would take to locate the civilian bunkers and Sanctuary. The Vemus seemed to increase the complexity of their tactics the longer this engagement went on. If their previous attack had been them asleep at the wheel, Nathan hoped they could take out the Vemus Alpha before the damn thing became any smarter. He’d considered sending a few of their combat shuttles to New Earth to investigate, but they had little chance of escaping detection by the Vemus cruisers patrolling the moon. They were stuck between a rock and a hard place unless they wanted to begin their attack on the Vemus.
“Colonel Hayes, I have a comlink from General Gates,” Sergeant Boers said.
“Put him on the main holoscreen,” Nathan said.
The tactical readouts disappeared from the screen and were replaced by the head and shoulders of General Gates.
“General, we’re showing that Phoenix Station is heading back to New Earth,” Nathan said.
“That’s correct. We couldn’t send an update before this time due to the communications blackout. How stands the battle preparations?” Connor asked.
“We haven’t seen the Vemus scout ships since they entered New Earth’s atmosphere, so they probably haven’t found our civilian safeholds. We have a strategy to bring the Vemus Alpha to Lunar Base,” Nathan said and proceeded to tell Connor their plan for engaging the Vemus Alpha in an all-out assault. Before the attack began, he’d send out four assault teams that would attempt to sneak aboard the enemy ship while it was en route to the moon to plant the bombs they’d made inside.
“That’s a good plan and it won’t have to change all that much when you hear what I’ve got to say. But given the time constraint of this communications window, there’ll be very little time for explanation or questions. We’re sending multiple comms drones loaded with the relevant data that will validate what we’re attempting,” General Gates said.
“Just say the word and we’ll do everything we can, General,” Nathan replied.
“I know you will. We’ll need to coordinate our efforts because your assault teams won’t be the only CDF soldiers on that enemy ship,” General Gates said and proceeded to lay out their plan of attack.
Nathan listened, and for the next fifteen minutes, General Gates informed him of the discoveries they’d made using the data and samples collected by Dr. Brian Walker. When he’d authorized Brian’s mission, Nathan had had no idea of the potentially profound impact it would have on all their lives. If it worked. The comlink to Phoenix Station closed, and there was a stunned silence in the immediate vicinity of the main holoscreen.
“A way to kill the Vemus,” Major Shelton said in a tone that suggested she didn’t quite believe it.
Nathan’s mind raced. He had so many questions he wanted to ask the general, but he knew there simply wasn’t time. He knew Connor had glossed over many of the facts and he also accepted that he didn’t need all the facts in order to achieve their objective. They were going to throw everything they had left at the Vemus and there would be no second chance.
“We need to settle down and focus,” Nathan said.
The CDF soldiers in the command area went silent.
“Coordinating this attack won’t be easy and the battle plan has just become a lot more complicated,” Nathan said.
As Nathan began to put the entirety of the plan together in his mind, along with its implications, he faced the grim reality that much more sacrifice would be required if the colony was going to survive. He glanced around the command area at all the CDF soldiers. They didn’t realize it yet, but when he caught Major Shelton’s gaze and then Lieutenant LaCroix’s, he saw that they understood. In a few hours’ time, none of them would probably be around to see how their war with the Vemus ended. This had always been a possibility and was one they’d taken steps to prepare for should the worst happen. They still had a bit of time, precious little though it was. There were still preparations to be made, and what remained of mankind depended on the actions they’d take over the next several hours. It was a terrible burden to bear, but they’d do it together—just as they would die together so their loved ones could live.
Sergeant Boers called him over. “Colonel, I just had a comms drone report in from the surface.”
Nathan frowned. “Where did it come from?”
Sergeant Boers swallowed. “It’s from Sanctuary. There are personal messages from the people there. Sir, I need your authorization to send the messages out since we’re officially still under Dark-Star protocols.”
Nathan pressed his lips together while he considered. Messages from home could distract his staff from doing what they needed to do. He looked around the Command Center at all the CDF personnel and the scientists who had elected to come here to help with their fight against the Vemus. He had no doubt that some of the commanding officers could deny those final messages from home in order to achieve their objective, but not Nathan. He couldn’t do that. He had more optimistic tendencies and believed it was those messages from home that would enable his soldiers to fight much harder because they’d have been reminded of what they were fighting for. He looked down at Sergeant Boers. “Send them on, Sergeant.”
Sergeant Boers smiled in relief. “At once, Colonel . . . and thank you, sir.”
Nathan gave her a nod and turned to go back to his own workstation.
“Colonel,” Sergeant Boers called out to him. “There’s a message for you as well. It has Colonel Cross’s identification on it.”
Savannah? Nathan thought. “Send it to my console, Sergeant.”
Nathan went over to his console and put on his headset. The new message flashed in his inbox and he opened it. A video recording file opened, and he took a moment to savor Savannah’s beautiful face. She’d let her thick blonde hair down and it surrounded her face like a lion’s mane. He felt the edges of his lips curve up into a smile. God, how he wished he could be with her, but they’d chosen to keep their relationship a secret.
He started the video.
“I know the timing of this sucks, Nathan, but I have something to tell you. After we learned what had happened to Sierra and the other cities, I knew you would be neck deep in planning your assault.” Savannah’s voice cracked and she looked away from the camera. “Damn it, this is a lot harder than I expected, just like I didn’t expect you to come to mean so much to me. At first, I thought it was only because we’d both just survived the Vemus attack and were aboard the Vigilant together, but it’s more. It’s so much more,” Savannah said and reached toward the camera. Nathan felt as if she were reaching toward him and the breath caught in his throat. “I need you to come back to me. It’s so very important that you do because it’s not just you and me anymore . . .”
Nathan listened to the rest of Savannah’s message, unable to keep his mouth from hanging open. The message finished playing and he leaned back in his chair, blowing out a breath.
“Is something wrong, sir?” Major Shelton asked.
Nathan looked over at her and saw Sergeant Boers watching him too. His heart was racing, and for a few moments he thought of keeping what Savannah had just told him to himself. He smiled. “I’m going to be a father,” he said.
Major Shelton’s brows drew up in surprise, but then she jumped out of her chair and came over to give him a hug. The news spread like wildfire, and through all the good wishes and congratulations, there were several sympathetic looks from those around him. He understood those looks all too well, given what they were about to do. He was going to become a father. The more he thought about it, the more real it became, along with the looming certainty that he would never meet his child.
Nathan swallowed hard and clenched his teeth to keep himself focused. When he’d authorized distribution of the messages from home, he’d never thought he’d receive the news he had. And now his thoughts went from elation at the thought of becoming a father to a flash of anger at the thought that someone else would be raising his child. He’d authorized those final messages because he thought it would remind people of why they needed to fight. He never would have believed the message he’d receive would remind him of why he needed to live.
31
Noah received a response from the comms drone he’d sent. The drone had needed to get within the vicinity of the lunar base receivers so the messages the people at Sanctuary recorded could be sent. It had taken a lot of convincing and assurances for Colonel Cross to allow him to send the drone. In the end, she’d sent a message of her own, which he hoped was a good thing. Recording his own message to Kara had been more difficult than he’d thought it would be. He knew what he wanted to say but felt that his message was woefully insignificant when compared with how he was really feeling. Despite his propensity for having long conversations, when it came to what he really wanted to say to his wife, he found that he wasn’t as articulate as he wanted to be. He wanted Kara here with him right now—safe, or as safe as either of them could be—and not on some damn moon. That was it, and Noah felt it wasn’t too much to ask.
He glanced over at Lenora. Grim lines of grief marred her pretty face. When she had finally awakened, she’d taken to a cold, brooding silence, but the comments she did make indicated she was acutely aware of what was going on around her. Noah hadn’t thought it was a good idea to leave her alone so he had insisted she come with him to the mobile Command Center. She drank from a canteen, which was thankfully filled with water. No doubt she was experiencing the mother of all hangovers, for which there was no miracle cure other than simply rehydrating. She hadn’t mentioned anything about her behavior the night before and made no apologies either. All night long Noah had sat outside that tent, his only companion the berwolf Lenora had named Bull. He’d finally put his feet up and gotten some sleep. When he’d woken up, Bull was nowhere to be found and Lenora was awake. They went to the mobile Command Center.
Lenora claimed a workstation off to the side and Noah started working from another station nearby. He reviewed the results of the latest simulations and stress tests of the power conversion system, and the changes they’d made had yielded a thirty percent increase in stability. This was a remarkable achievement since they were taking power from old alien technology and converting it into something they could use. The fact that they could do this at all was amazing, but was it enough? They could power the colossus cannon, which fired a powerful lance of electrons that was capable of reaching targets two kilometers away from Sanctuary. What they really needed to do was test-fire the weapon, but that also ran the risk of alerting the Vemus to Sanctuary’s location. They had the weapon and a few CDF soldiers, but fighting the Vemus here would be the stuff of nightmares. Sanctuary’s location had been picked because they could hide a lot of people, but it wasn’t the most defensible position. There were no mountains nearby or natural barriers that would make a ground assault difficult—just an unearthed alien city nestled amidst rolling hills with forests in the distance.
Occasionally the recon drones would find a large herd of runners, which were long-legged herbivores that averaged close to twenty feet in height and galloped the great plains on their migration trails. The migration drew packs of berwolves, but they left Sanctuary alone. At least there weren’t any ryklars in the area. Noah shivered. Ryklars were dangerous and cunning predators that many co
lonial scientists believed had been genetically altered to increase specific traits. Ryklars responded to certain frequencies and would protect alien sites such as Sanctuary. The ultrahigh frequency stimulated the ryklars’ predatory instincts and put them into a heightened state of agitation where they became hypersensitive to their surroundings. Instead of hunting and killing in order to survive, they would start killing far more than they could eat. Prolonged exposure to the ultrahigh frequency even got the ryklars to hunt the colonists. Berwolves, on the other hand, while highly lethal, behaved much more like the predators from Earth. But after being around Bull, Noah was convinced that the berwolves were much smarter than an average dog. Berwolves were stocky like a bear, but they had a strong pack instinct. Colonial scientists believed that even the berwolves had been genetically altered, but not to the extent that the ryklars had been.
Noah leaned back in his chair and looked at Lenora.
“Any idea where he goes?” Noah asked.
Lenora glanced over at him. She sat with her knees folded in front of her chest and had been reading so intently that she probably hadn’t heard what he’d asked.
“Bull. Do you know where he goes when he leaves you?” Noah asked.
Lenora shrugged. “He does what he wants and doesn’t bother anyone.”
She looked back at her screen, glaring at it. Noah had watched her off and on for the past hour and she seemed to go from rigid fury to just wanting to be alone. But being alone at Sanctuary was almost impossible now. Noah knew Lenora hadn’t been thrilled at the idea of the CDF designating the archaeological site as a safe haven for the colony, but she’d gone along with it and had worked tirelessly to make sure people were as safe as they could be. Now she looked at all of them as if they were intruding on her own personal space, as if she had claimed the ancient alien city for her own.