The Phoenix Rising

by Richard L. Sanders

  “The ship belonged to us and has since disappeared—probably captured or it defected. Our guess is that it is now possessed by the Phoenix Ring. And... recently there have been certain rumors that it is carrying something extremely deadly. But those are unconfirmed speculation. Find the ship and put the matter to rest.”

  “Deadly—like what?” Its only suspected cargo—at least that he’d been made aware of—was the isotome, which had no practical use.

  Mira’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Hopefully nothing. But then again... perhaps it’s a weapon that could devastate a planet. The sooner the ship is found and recaptured, the better.”

  “If I am going to even begin thinking about capturing a ship potentially occupied by a hostile force,” said Calvin, “I will need more soldiers.” He’d been debating whether or not he wanted to bring new soldiers onto the ship—the suspicious part of his mind thought that might be an invitation for the Organization to take physical control of the Nighthawk—but with only one detachment’s worth of troops remaining behind there were severe limits on the kind of missions he could carry out. “My handful of soldiers—while elite—are not enough to manage that kind of operation. Not unless the Arcane Storm is a tiny ship with a crew of only twenty people.”

  “The Arcane Storm is normally staffed by a crew of thirty. We will augment your special forces garrison with enough new soldiers to make a capture operation possible. I have selected a detachment of highly trained, fiercely loyal troops to meet your needs.”

  “And have they agreed to come along?”

  “Rez’nac has, yes.”

  Upon hearing the name, Calvin felt a wave of anxiety. That was not a human name. “And the others, have they agreed too...?”

  “The consent of the others is not required. They are sworn to Rez’nac and will follow him anywhere, until they are released or killed.”

  That confirmed his suspicion. “You want me to take Polarian soldiers aboard the Nighthawk?”

  Her lips curled into the tiniest smile. “Why not? Do you have a problem with Polarians?”

  “No,” he said immediately. He wasn’t racist. He didn’t think the Polarians were inferior, or superior, to humans. But... he still wasn’t comfortable with the suggestion. Aliens had less of a stake in rescuing the Empire.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I just...”

  “You just what?”

  It was hard for him to frame his discomfort into words.

  “Mister Cross, these men are loyal to the Organization. They are beyond competent in their skills. And they are healthy. I don’t see a problem.”

  “But can we trust them?” he said at last. He remembered seeing a Polarian ship with the squadron of Rotham warships that had been illegally camped inside Imperial space. He also didn’t forget how surprised, and concerned, Raidan had been to learn about it. It meant that some Polarians, at least, were likely cooperating with the enemy.

  “In my opinion, you can’t really trust anyone,” said Mira. “Not completely. But I’ll remind you that you’re on a Polarian station, in Polarian space, and you’ve trusted Polarians to repair your ship and resupply you. You’ve eaten Polarian food and drank Polarian water. And put your entire crew in the hands of the Polarians of Gemini. And from all of this, have you been given any reason to distrust them?”

  “No,” he admitted. “It’s just... the fact that they aren’t Imperial citizens means... I don’t understand what their stake is in this. Why would they care about the Empire and what happens to it?”

  He knew that, despite his other reasons, some of his discomfort was due to cultural differences—the Polarians were a spiritual, mysterious, and private people. He didn’t understand them. “The Polarians that are working alongside or for the Organization are completely trustworthy. They are afraid of a war with the Empire if certain factions have their way. If the Empire destabilizes that will change the balance of power, and certainly lead to another galactic conflict like the Great War which, as you recall, did not go well for the Polarians. For those reasons, there are many Polarians, particularly from systems close to the Empire, who are willing to put everything on the line to prevent such a bloodbath from occurring again. And make no mistake, this time it would be a thousand times worse.”

  That was a plausible motive, Calvin supposed. But he doubted that was the only thing, perhaps not even the primary thing that bound these Polarians to do the bidding of the Organization. He didn’t press the issue though, since Mira was unlikely to reveal anything more.

  “So you see, Mister Cross, you either take the Polarians with you on your mission—or you don’t, and you make things very hard for your limited personnel. I don’t have any qualified human soldiers to offer you. Not on Gemini.”

  “I’ll give you my answer by the end of the day,” he said. Knowing that, most likely, he’d be forced to take the Polarians aboard. But he wanted to run this by Jason Pellew before making the final decision.

  “You have two hours, Mister Cross. And not a minute more.”

  “Fine.” He turned to leave.

  “One more thing,” she said.

  He spun back around, curious.

  “The Rotham you have with you,” she said nonchalantly, as if this information was common knowledge. “Alex, I believe is the crude name you gave him. What do you intend to do with him?”

  He was taken off guard by this. He’d kept Alex under tight confinement since they’d arrived—under constant watch, and hadn’t let him drift out into public where he could be seen.

  “If I didn’t know any better,” said Mira. “I’d say you look surprised that I know about Alex.”

  Then Calvin put it together. He’d left Alex with Captain Pellew. He must have told his sister. That raised questions about Pellew’s trustworthiness. The special forces leader had mutinied to help Calvin restore his command, but he was also a recruit of the Organization—and had made no efforts pretending otherwise.

  “The Rotham is staying with us on the Nighthawk,” said Calvin. “I’m going to get some information from him.”

  Mira nodded. “The Organization would consider it a personal favor if, when you do find anything out from him, you keep us informed.”

  As if she didn’t already have plans for Captain Pellew to keep her apprised over kataspace. Calvin made a mental note to keep an eye on the ship’s communication logs. “I’ll consider it.”

  “It’s not good for us to keep secrets from each other. Remember that.”

  “You should too.” He looked at her again, sizing her up one last time, then left. It was time for a frank conversation with Mister Pellew.

  ***

  Calvin barged into Pellew’s quarters unannounced; the door was unlocked.

  Pellew jumped up from the edge of his bed—where he’d been sitting and watching a news program on the large screen. He switched it off and looked at Calvin. “Hey. Have you heard about Renora?”

  “Yes,” said Calvin quickly. He hadn’t come here to discuss current events.

  “Hard to believe she was behind it, huh? No one saw that coming.”

  Calvin had come to ask a serious question but this new information caught him off-guard. She? “They identified the attacker?” he asked, deciding his other question could wait.

  “Not officially,” said Pellew. “But one of the Assembly members, on condition of anonymity—of course, pointed the finger at Princess Kalila Akira. And then an Intel Wing insider—also anonymous—confirmed it. So speculation has gone wild. And it’s looking more and more like Kalila had something to do with it. Who’d have thought, right?”

  Calvin hadn’t told Pellew, or anyone, about his clandestine meeting with Princess Kalila on Tau outpost. And he still hadn’t made sense of the encounter. She’d asked him to investigate Raidan for her, and avoid interfering with him. She would eventually contact Calvin again at an unspecified time. So far he hadn’t heard anything more from her.

  Could she possibly
be involved in the bloodbath at Renora? He felt sick even considering it. There must be some other explanation. Perhaps she was a scapegoat? Or maybe her ship had been seized by some other power.

  Of course, he knew he was biased. He didn’t want to believe her capable of such an atrocious act. Something about her had completely captivated him when they’d met. And, from time to time, he caught himself fantasizing about the next time he’d see her. Usually he could keep such thoughts in check. But not always.

  “So what brings you here?” asked Pellew.

  Calvin set aside his confusion towards Kalila and focused on the issue at hand. “I know you work for the Organization,” he said. “The question I have is, where do your deepest loyalties lie? And, if you had to decide between them and the Nighthawk, between them and me, which would you choose?”

  Pellew shrugged. “That’s a fair question. I guess it depends on what the choice is. But I don’t think it matters because our interests are aligned.”

  “For now, sure. But suppose in the future they aren’t.” Calvin doubted Pellew’s words would give him an honest answer, but he thought his eyes and body language might.

  “I’d choose the Nighthawk,” said Pellew. Calvin didn’t detect any of the telltale signs of insincerity. But then again, Pellew might be a practiced liar.

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t really owe the Organization anything. They struck a deal with me and I delivered. You got to keep your ship and go to Abia, just like Raidan wanted. I enabled Tristan, helped him escape confinement so he could catch your scent and fulfill his mission on Aleator. That’s pretty much the extent of it. I do what’s best for me.”

  “I see,” Calvin thought about what Raidan had said. They’d recruited Pellew by means of blood and money. “And how was this deal struck exactly?”

  “My sister Mira contacted me and convinced me. She works for the Organization.”

  “I know she does. In fact, I know she’s here on Gemini.”

  Pellew looked surprised, but unthreatened. “You know quite a lot. Anyway she appealed to my more… benevolent side at first, but I held out for money, which she eventually offered. 160,000q was my price. Mitchell, Adams, and the others I convinced were bought for much less.”

  “So it was about money, then?”

  “It was, yes.”

  “Then why would you choose the Nighthawk? I can’t offer you money.”

  “I don’t care about the money anymore. My debts are paid. I have a fat savings account. At this point, it’s about revenge. I lost friends in Abia.” There was a sudden fire in his eyes, yet his voice remained calm. “You and me, we’re going to avenge them. And those responsible, those bastards who started all of this. They’ll pay. As long as you’re working to find and eliminate them, I’ll always have your back.”

  Calvin nodded. It was against his better judgment, but he believed Pellew. The man seemed far too sincere to be faking it. But there was one missing piece. “Then why did you tell your sister about Alex?”

  “I told her so she’d understand that Abia wasn’t a complete waste. We may have lost a third of the crew, but at least we took a prize. I didn’t think it would be a problem for her to know.”

  “It isn’t,” said Calvin. “So long as she understands that Alex is coming with us, not staying here.”

  Pellew folded his arms and gave Calvin a wry look. “If we had kept Alex a secret from her, odds are she would have found out anyway. Our whole crew knows we have him in our possession. Any one of them could have leaked it to someone who would then tell her. At that point she could have arranged for him to mysteriously disappear into her possession. But now, if that happens, it’s obvious she’ll be our first suspect. So she can’t risk it. Before she had deniability. Now she doesn’t.”

  “Makes sense,” Calvin admitted. Though he doubted that was the reasoning behind Pellew’s decision to inform his sister—and he still expected Pellew to make continued reports to the Organization on some level. “Where is Alex now, anyway?”

  Pellew nodded toward the adjoining bathroom door. “Locked in there. No windows, no other doors, and no large vents. Unless he flushes himself down the toilet, he’s not goin’ anywhere.”

  “You check on him often?”

  “Every ten minutes.”

  “That’s good,” Calvin had few enough leads that losing Alex was not an option. As to what he’d do with the Rotham once he’d bled every scrap of information out of him? That he hadn’t decided.

  “What’s the word on my replacement troops? I’m a whole detachment shorthanded.” Pellew reminded him.

  “We’ve been offered a detachment of Polarian soldiers that are supposedly loyal to the Organization. We have the choice of taking them or leaving them.”

  “Are we expecting to deploy any shore teams or do any capture operations in the near future?” asked Pellew.

  “Yes. The Organization wants us to find and capture a missing ship of theirs—the Arcane Storm.”

  “And are we going to do it?”

  Calvin thought about it for a moment. There was no reason not to—his ability to investigate the Phoenix Ring was limited to whatever Rafael could manage, now that they’d been cut off from the Intel Wing databases. And it wouldn’t hurt to gain more favor from the Organization—even if he didn’t fully trust it. Not to mention, if there was something special about this missing ship, Calvin would want to see it for himself. “Yes. We are.”

  “And how many crew does the Arcane Storm carry?”

  “About thirty,” said Calvin.

  “Then we need the additional soldiers,” said Pellew. “Even if they aren’t imperials.”

  “Even if that means aboard soldiers who will turn on us later?”

  “I doubt they would,” said Pellew. “Polarians aren’t known for going against their word. In all of our joint history I don’t think they’ve ever so much as breached a treaty.” That was true, though Calvin reminded himself that Pellew was perhaps as loyal to the Organization as the Polarians. “So unless their beloved High Prelain tells them to, they wouldn’t turn on us.”

  Calvin knew the Polarians were deeply spiritual people and he’d never quite understood how the power was split between the secular politicians of the Confederacy and the religious leaders. One thing was certain, if the High Prelain did order the Polarians to war against the Empire, billions would follow his spiritual advice and give up everything for the cause.

  “Should the worst happen,” asked Calvin, wanting to know one more thing before giving Mira the go-ahead to begin boarding Polarian troops onto his precious Nighthawk, “what are our chances against a Polarian detachment in a straight fight?”

  “Polarian soldiers are some tough sons-of-bitches,” said Pellew, giving Calvin a grim look. “But my men are expertly trained. Between us and the crew, and the fact that we know our own ship backwards and forwards? Yeah, I’d bet we could take them.”

  Just then the comm panel chirped and Pellew answered. “What is it?”

  “Captain Pellew, is Calvin with you?” asked a junior officer.

  “Yes he is.”

  “Good. Please come here right away, both of you, to the lab on deck seventy-eight. There’s something you need to see.”

  Chapter 6

  “What is it?” asked Calvin as he and Pellew entered the lab. Three analysts from the Nighthawk were hovering around one of the many computer terminals. He recognized them all, junior officers from the Red Shift.

  “A little while ago we finished analyzing the data we got back from the probe we launched to investigate the TR-301 star collapse,” said Ryan—he was a junior lieutenant and one of the Nighthawk’s ranking analysts. “What we found is… strange. To say the least.”

  “What is it?” Calvin had almost forgotten about the bizarre, and untimely, destruction of a major star that had forced them into making a course correction on their way to Aleator, ultimately slowing down their pursuit of Raidan. He’d sent a probe
to investigate it and hadn’t thought much of it since.

  “By all rights the star should not have collapsed. It had billions of years of life left in it. Our grasp of stellar physics is not complete, but from what we do know—TR-301 should not have collapsed. You were right to send a probe, Captain.”

  “So what did you find?”

  “We found traces of isotome. Most of it was in a degenerated state and not really recognizable, but some of it was stable and, somehow, preserved.”

  “Like what we found in the Rotham ship debris?” asked Calvin. He kept quiet about the fact that the Arcane Storm was suspected of transporting isotome as well.

  “Exactly. Whatever stabilizing process or agent the Rotham used to transport their isotome matches exactly the isotome found by the probe in the TR-301 region. What’s more, based on the properties of the TR-301 star, the expected result of a normal gravitational collapse would have been the formation of a neutron star. However this was a massive collapse, much larger than it should have been, and a blackhole formed within seconds.”

  “And the isotome caused that?” asked Calvin.

  “We believe the TR-301 star was collapsed deliberately. We can’t be sure that our conclusion is right but if you look at this data and our subsequent simulations, it seems fairly likely that isotome injected directly into the core of the star could result in the death of the star within hours. If someone could keep the isotome stable for transport, and devise a way to get it into the center of the star without it being destroyed, they could conceivably engineer a collapse.”

  Calvin was blown away by this. He’d feared the possibility of a deliberate star collapse, and now his “crazy” theory which had been dismissed by Intel Wing was vindicated by actual science, but… in this case he would prefer to have been proven wrong. The implications of a technology that could wipeout entire star systems were terrifying—almost unimaginably so.

  “So what you’re saying,” said Pellew, “is that the Rotham have weapons that can destroy stars?”