The Phoenix Rising

by Richard L. Sanders

  “Tell us more about this Calum,” said Summers. “What do we know about him?”

  “He is a reclusive wanderer,” said Tristan. “He is one of the only Remorii to leave Echo Three since we settled it. He buys passage from the traders and has been all over the DMZ. No one particularly likes him or knows him and he keeps to himself most of the time.”

  “Why didn’t you go after him and ask him more questions?” asked Summers.

  “I wanted to,” said Calvin, “but I was afraid doing so would be interpreted as hostile behavior.”

  “Assuming for a moment that his information is right, why would he tell us anything?” asked Summers.

  “Calum hates the strigoi more than anyone,” said Tristan. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he invented the information he gave us just in the hope that it might lead the Empire to war with the Enclave.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how he knew we were looking for a ship,” said Calvin.

  “So what’s your theory?” asked Summers.

  “I think he found something out in his exploits through the DMZ. Something that he shouldn’t have stumbled onto. Either that or he’s deceiving us for some kind of ulterior purpose. But I do not believe Calum and Afton are both telling the truth. I think either the Arcane Storm is in the Vulture Nebula or it is being controlled by the Enclave. I’d bet a million q someone is lying to us.”

  “Based on?” asked Summers.

  “A hunch,” said Calvin.

  “If that’s the case, then how do we know which lycan to trust?” asked Pellew. “For all we know they’re both lying.”

  “We are not a deceitful people,” insisted Tristan. “Especially not Afton. He would never deceive us.”

  “Let’s consider the logistics. Tybur is a twelve or thirteen hour jump from here,” said Calvin. “The Vulture Nebula is about fifteen hours in the other direction. Back the way we came.”

  “Actually it’s eighteen hours,” said Sarah.

  “If we go to Tybur,” said Pellew, “there’s no guarantee we could even locate the Enclave.”

  “I can do it,” said Tristan. “I know how to contact them. But there’s no point in going there. The path before us is clear.”

  “I agree, the Tybur lead feels murkier and is more likely to be a dead end,” said Pellew.

  “What worries me about the nebula,” said Miles, “are the tactical considerations. There are only two, maybe three, fixed points at the edge of the nebula where we can initiate an alteredspace jump. We won’t be able to see what’s inside the nebula until we enter it, and even then sight will be very limited. The stealth system won’t work. The shields might do nothing. Many of our weapons will fail. The targeting system might or might not work. If it turns out to be an ambush, or if the Arcane Storm proves more than a match for our ship... we might never make it out of there.”

  “Tybur could just as easily be an ambush,” said Shen. “If the Tybur military was alerted to our arrival, they could easily capture and destroy us. They haven’t remained an independent system for a hundred years—stuck in between the two strongest political powers—by accident. Not only have they managed to ward off pirates and raiders, they’ve kept claim over some of the most valuable mineral deposits in the galaxy. If we jump into a trap there, I doubt we could shoot our way out of it.”

  “You underestimate me,” said Miles.

  Shen gave him an annoyed look.

  “I’m already familiar with the relative firepower of the Alliance navy,” said Calvin. “And you’re right, their best forces are likely stationed at Tybur and are more than a match for the Nighthawk. But Miles is right too, the Vulture Nebula might prove to be as fatal a mistake as going to Tybur. The question is, which die do we roll?”

  “Well, Captain, I suppose that’s up to you,” said Tristan. “But you know where I stand. Afton is our honorable chieftain and he gave us a clear lead. Calum is a wandering fool.”

  Calvin agreed that the nebula seemed like the better lead. But the encounter with Calum had really thrown him off. He just couldn’t make sense of the encounter. “Summers, what do you think?”

  She seemed momentarily surprised. As if she expected him to always ignore her advice. “It’s your decision,” she said.

  “Very well. In that case...” he paused, weighing the options in his mind one last time. “Set course for the Vulture Nebula. Eighty percent potential. Set condition two throughout the ship.” If either were a trap, he reasoned, the nebula would probably be the easier situation to escape from. And Afton had seemed like a more reliable figure than Calum.

  Chapter 13

  The blackness out the window vanished, replaced by the awesome colorful majesty that was the Vulture Nebula. Tremendous swirling clouds of red and violet that seemed to stretch on forever. Nimoux doubted he’d ever seen anything more beautiful.

  “Simply breathtaking...” he said.

  “Jump complete,” said the pilot. “We are currently one point three million mc’s from the mouth of the nebula.”

  “Any indication that the Nighthawk has already been here?” asked Nimoux.

  “No, sir,” said the ops officer. “Though I am picking up two ships ahead of us, at a distance of half a million mc’s. Imperial markings. Looks to be the IWS Rhea and the ISS Stormfront.”

  “I guess the rest of the party beat us here,” said Nimoux.

  “The other ships are hailing us,” said the pilot. “Requesting instructions.”

  “Tell them to clear for action and follow us into the nebula. Once we’re inside, we’ll send them positional coordinates. Take us in, best speed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Set condition one throughout the ship.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The nebula filled their window more and more until its colorful gases surrounded them.

  “Entering the Vulture Nebula.”

  “Systems check,” Nimoux turned to the ops officer. He’d never taken the Desert Eagle inside a nebula before and it was unknown which systems would fail—though life support, missile batteries, thrusters, and the sublight drive were likely safe from the ionized gases.

  “Shields are ineffective, communication is patchy but functional, and I’m unsure if the energy weapon is usable. All other systems are within normal parameters.”

  “And our sensors?” asked Nimoux.

  “Not sure how the other ships are faring, but our new upgrade is having very little trouble. The nebula has reduced our vision by less than fifteen percent.”

  “And will we be able to see the Nighthawk approach?” asked Nimoux. This was the key issue.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now at sixty-five thousand mc’s inside the nebula,” said the pilot.

  “All stop.”

  “Answering all stop. The other ships are decelerating.”

  The IWS Rhea glided past their window and came to a stop, only visible because of its identifier lights. It was larger than the Desert Eagle—not being a stealth ship—but was still dwarfed by the mighty battleship ISS Stormfront accompanying them. All three ships taken together represented more than enough firepower to deal with the Nighthawk.

  “Ops and defense,” said Nimoux, “identify the best positions for the other ships and transmit those coordinates. Once the Nighthawk enters the nebula, it is critical we do not give it a window of escape.”

  “Yes, sir,” his subordinates replied.

  Only a few moments later, the determination was made and all three ships were moved into optimal position. The idea was a simple one, area denial. Once the Nighthawk entered the nebula, there were only two viable exits that would allow the ship to initiate an alteredspace jump. With the weapons batteries of all three warships trained on those vectors, the Nighthawk would expose itself to a lethal amount of firepower if it tried to run.

  “Tell the other ships to hold their fire until I give the order to engage,” said Nimoux. The last thing he wanted was a premature missile scaring off th
e Nighthawk before it even entered the nebula. “And remember, the objective is to disable the ship—not destroy it. Target their engines. Destroying the ship is a last resort.”

  “Aye, sir.” His helmsman spoke into his headset and a moment later confirmed that the message had been acknowledged by the other captains.

  “Now, we wait,” said Nimoux.

  He relaxed in the silence until it was broken by his ops officer several minutes later.

  “Sir, I‘ve got something on the scopes. A ship just jumped in and is approaching the nebula. Imperial markings—it’s the Nighthawk.”

  Nimoux didn’t allow himself to get excited. “Continue tracking the vessel and send all updates of its position to the other ships.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Standby all weapons.”

  ***

  “Battle alert status, set condition one,” said Calvin. “Shields at maximum.”

  “You got it, Cal,” said Miles. ”All weapons are hot.”

  The nebula lay before them, a majestic display of color and mystery. Its wraith-like specter stretched out before them eerily. Calvin wondered what secrets it held. And if the Arcane Storm was truly there.

  They’d looked over the minimal data they had regarding the Arcane Storm and, with the help of Tristan, had come up with an attack plan designed to disable it. The special forces and Polarian solders stood-by to board and capture the disabled ship. The plan seemed airtight, but Calvin remained uneasy. He kept replaying the encounter with Calum in his mind, and was unsettled by his whole experience on Echo Three. If only he could trust Afton as easily as Tristan did. Tristan, who stood tall at Calvin’s side, showed not even a hint of doubt.

  “Begin approach,” said Calvin. “Nice and slow.”

  “Slow?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m a little worried about what we might find in there.”

  “The Arcane Storm will be no match for us,” assured Miles.

  “It’s not the Arcane Storm I’m worried about.”

  “Afton is no liar,” said Tristan. “We will only find what we are looking for inside that beautiful spectacle.” The nebula dominated most of their view now. And Calvin had to admit, it was awesome to behold.

  “Shen, can you see anything inside the nebula?” he asked.

  “No, our scanners are useless.”

  “What about a probe? Can we send a probe into the nebula to check things out first?” asked Calvin.

  “We could, but none of our probes would be able to see anything. It would take a rather large probe with very calibrated sensors to see anything inside a nebula. Our ship’s scopes are much better suited to the task.”

  “I see,” Calvin tapped his fingers nervously. Not the answer he’d hoped for.

  “On the flip side,” said Shen. “Anyone in there won’t be able to see us either. Not until we’re inside. So they won’t know we’re coming.”

  That was true, Calvin supposed. But it was little comfort. The whole situation left him unsettled. Something was simply off about it. He didn’t like maneuvering into a deadly position while blind as a bat and following intelligence that was questionable at best.

  “What are our escape options once we get in there?” asked Calvin.

  “There appear to be only two stable points where an alteredspace jump could be initiated. If we can get to one of those points, we should be able to calculate a jump within a few seconds and escape.”

  “What if we punch our own way out of the nebula and escape once we’re in open space again?” asked Calvin. “Make an exit wherever we want one.”

  “That wouldn’t be recommended,” said Shen. “It would take longer and we’d be at greater risk of being overtaken, plus we’d be going through potentially much denser parts of the nebula, positing a much higher risk of systems failure.”

  “I see,” said Calvin. “So really there’s no way around it, there are only two ways in or out.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Two-hundred thousand mc’s from the mouth of the nebula and closing,” said Sarah. “All teams report go. They’re at the designated airlocks and prepared to board the target vessel on your command.”

  “Good.” Getting their airlocks to align and seal with those of the Arcane Storm would be a mean feat of flying, especially in a nebula, but Calvin didn’t worry too much about it. If anyone could pull off such a maneuver, it was Sarah. Probably the best pilot in the fleet.

  “Now one-hundred and fifty mc’s.”

  Calvin leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his temples. He stared into the massive veil of interwoven, colorful gases that filled their view. The whole thing just felt wrong. The scientific part of his mind didn’t like putting too much stock in gut feelings, but intuition had saved him several times before. Should I listen to it now?

  “One-hundred mc’s,” said Sarah.

  “Be ready, Shen,” said Calvin. “I want to get a good scan the moment we’re inside the nebula.”

  “I’ll do my best,” said Shen. “But our sight will still be limited.”

  “Sarah, be ready to initiate a full about. At the first sign of trouble, get us the hell out of there.”

  “Yes, sir. Eighty-three mc’s and closing.”

  Calvin took a deep breath, wondering if he was making a mistake. This was their best lead. They had to follow it. And he had taken every precaution he could think of. He looked to Summers for reassurance but found only hardness in her stony face. She gazed at the nebula too but her mind appeared to be elsewhere. Fixated on something.

  “Seventy-five mc’s and—” Sarah cut herself off abruptly and looked down at her instruments. “Hold on. Incoming message, sir. Maximum priority.”

  Calvin jumped up to his feet. “All stop!” he ordered, the words came out more forcefully than he’d expected. Perhaps he was just a bit too eager for an excuse to delay entering the nebula. “I’ll take it in my office,” he said, noting the baffled expressions on his crew’s faces.

  “We don’t have time for this,” said Tristan. “The Arcane Storm cannot be allowed to escape!”

  Calvin locked eyes with him. “Then we’ll make time.” He turned back to the helm. “Sarah, route it to my office. I’ll take it immediately. Summers, you have the deck. Do not enter the nebula until I return.”

  ***

  “The Nighthawk has stopped its approach. It is now holding position seventy-thousand mc’s from the mouth of the nebula,” said the ops officer.

  “Is it possible they’ve detected us?” asked Nimoux. He stared out into the swirling cloud of ionized gases surrounding them, not much could penetrate it. But perhaps the Nighthawk had upgraded its sensor technology as well?

  “No, I don’t think so,” said the ops officer.

  “What are they doing?” asked the defense officer.

  Nimoux didn’t have an answer. If the Nighthawk couldn’t see them, and therefore didn’t know there was an ambush, why did the ship hesitate?

  “The Stormfront and Rhea are hailing us, requesting instructions. They want to know if they should converge on the Nighthawk.”

  “Tactical assessment,” said Nimoux. “If the Desert Eagle were in the Nighthawk’s position, and three ships charged out of the nebula and tried to disable it, would we be able to escape?”

  The defense officer thought about it for a moment. “Yes,” he said at last. “We could fend off all attacks long enough to get to a jump point and escape. The attacking ships wouldn’t have enough time to disable us—unless the attacking ships were alpha-class.”

  Nimoux nodded. “Then assume the Nighthawk would be able to escape as well. Tell the other ships to hold position.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “I suspect Calvin is merely looking over the scene and being cautious. Testing the water with his toe before diving in. But if he wants the Arcane Storm that badly, he won’t pass up this opportunity. There is far too big a prize at stake. Ass
uming the mole’s information is correct, patience should serve us well.”

  ***

  “I have to keep this short, but thank God I reached you in time,” said Rafael. His distraught face appeared on the display in Calvin’s office.

  “What is it?” asked Calvin. Because Rafael had chosen to contact him outside their pre-determined schedule, Calvin knew it was urgent. Rafael was also taking an unusually large risk in trying to reach him by using a much wider band of frequencies. Anything that was more likely to be picked up by the Nighthawk was also more likely to be noticed by another Intel Wing controller. A desperate move.

  “What is your current position?” pressed Rafael.

  Calvin raised a curious eyebrow. “Just outside the Vulture Nebula. I have intelligence that the Arcane Storm—”

  “Do not go in that nebula, Captain. It’s a setup!”

  “How do you know?”

  “Captain Nimoux organized a plan through Intel Wing channels to interdict your ship. They baited you with false intelligence. The Desert Eagle and other ships are waiting for you in there. They will fire on you—maybe even destroy you.”

  Calvin felt his throat constrict. So Afton had been lying… That deceiving sellout! “Thank you, Rafael,” said Calvin. He was sorry to see his lead go cold but was grateful not to have charged blindly into an ambush. Hopefully it wasn’t already too late.

  “I must go now,” said Rafael. “And so should you—you’re in great danger.”

  “First tell me one thing,” said Calvin, his eyes searching. “Did Nimoux’s plan include anything about Tybur?”

  “Tybur?” Rafael looked puzzled. “No. He would lure you to the Vulture Nebula and ambush you there. That was the plan. I really have to disconnect now.”

  “Understood.” But before Calvin could get out the word, Rafael was gone. Calvin hoped Rafael hadn’t risked too much in warning them.

  Calvin stormed back onto the bridge. Now knowing that, only a few thousand meager mc’s away, warships waited for him. Teeth bared and claws at the ready.