The Phoenix Rising

by Richard L. Sanders

  Out the window, the ship was now visible. It was a re-converted old warship and still had the fierce contours of the Imperial military showing in its outer hull design.

  “One hundred thousand mc’s and closing.”

  “Lowering shields,” said Miles.

  “Message the boarding party, let them know we’re approaching the ship.”

  “Aye, sir,” said Sarah. “Captain Pellew confirms that the away detachments are ready and standing-by at airlocks two and three.”

  “Commence boarding operations.”

  Chapter 28

  The Arcane Storm’s internal systems were online and functioning, including all elements of its life support. So the original plan—to have a specialized taskforce of soldiers and engineers breach the ship, go to engineering, and restore gravity systems—was scrapped and only soldiers were cleared to board the drifting ship. Unsure what to expect.

  The men donned full climate gear—in case the life support failed—and entered with weapons drawn. Pellew led the men and breached the ship through airlock three. He’d assigned Adams to lead the team breaching from airlock two. Twelve people total—all human. The Polarians who’d survived the bloodbath of Remus Nine were in no condition for another operation and Pellew didn’t want to mix SF soldiers with the Polarians, for fear a fight would break out.

  They swept the room, checking it over quickly but thoroughly for anyone hiding in ambush. The white lights and blank walls seemed normal and uninteresting, and nothing about this deck—which was an observation lounge—seemed out of the ordinary. All the furniture seemed in its proper place, nothing seemed out of order, and Pellew saw no signs of distress. If a fight had happened on this ship, it hadn’t been here.

  “Deck is clear,” said a soldier on his right. His lapel showed the insignia of a PFC.

  “Move out,” Pellew gave the order.

  His team took up positions and moved out into the corridor. It seemed as lonely as the observation lounge, not a person in sight, and no indication that anything had been disturbed. The lights glowed at the normal level and the fixtures were all in place. Without so much as a scuff mark on the floor.

  His team did a cursory search of every room as they continued up the ladders and onto the next deck, slowly winding their way to the ship’s bridge—he didn’t trust the elevators.

  They tossed offices and quarters, even a mess hall, and found nothing of interest—except for the sheer lack of crew.

  “What do you see, Captain?” Calvin’s voice came over the speaker in his helmet.

  “The ship seems to be in fine working order,” said Pellew, transmitting back. “The lights are on. Everything is in its place. But we’ve searched multiple decks now and found no sign that anyone is aboard.”

  “Any indication of a fight?” asked Calvin.

  “Not that team one has found,” said Pellew. “Team two?”

  “Team two here,” Adam’s voice crackled over the speakers. “Negative, no signs of a fight. We’ve searched three decks, working our way down to the bottom of the ship and haven’t found anybody either. Everything is on and powered up, but nobody’s home. Hell, in the lower mess some of the food was still set out on the tables half eaten. It’s like everyone just... disappeared all of a sudden.”

  “Did they abandon ship?” asked Calvin.

  “I hope to know the answer to that in just a minute,” said Pellew. His team reached the shuttlebay and had to force the door open. There they found three of the ship’s four shuttlecraft still on the deck. There was no indication that any of the three had been used recently. “Only one shuttle is missing,” said Pellew. “If they did abandon ship, no more than fifteen could have gotten off this way.”

  “Escape pods?” asked Calvin.

  Pellew sent someone to check the computer records while the rest of his team secured the flight deck. It was like stalking the halls of a ghost ship. Even here, which was sure to be the largest deck on the ship, there was not a person to be found.

  “Computer reports that all escape pods are accounted for,” said the soldier after performing a check.

  “That could be a fabrication,” said Calvin. “The escape pods will have to be visually accounted for.”

  “We’ll check into that after we take the bridge and secure the rest of the ship,” said Pellew. He ordered his men to form up and they headed back out into the corridor, toward the ladders.

  “Team two has reached the cargo bay,” said Adams. “There’s no one here either.”

  “What about the isotome weapons?” asked Calvin urgently. “Please tell me they’re there.”

  “I’m sorry sir but there’s nothing here. Just a big empty space. Not even standard supplies and food. It’s like the entire cargo was blown out into space.”

  “Or transferred to another ship,” said Pellew.

  “If they did meet up with another ship, it wasn’t recorded. There’s no mention in the ship’s log,” said Adams.

  “Dammit,” said Calvin. “So that means there’s another batch of star destroying weapons out there, unaccounted for.”

  “Maybe,” said Pellew. “Or maybe not.”

  “What does that mean? You think they’re elsewhere on the ship.”

  “No, I doubt they’d fit anywhere else. But our captive might have been lying to Alex when he said the Arcane Storm had ‘the rest’ of the isotome weapons. Could have been a bargaining tactic. We won’t know for sure until we get more information out of him.”

  “That’s true,” said Calvin. “He’s in the infirmary now undergoing treatment for injuries he received on Remus Nine. Rain says he won’t be able to handle any more interrogation for a while.”

  “Until then...” said Pellew.

  “At least we have the ship,” said Calvin. “And with it, hopefully, some answers.”

  “All I know…” said Pellew as his team searched more rooms—and still found no one. And no bodies. Despite the fact that nothing seemed wrong with the ship. “Is this is the eeriest damn place I’ve ever seen.” The ghost ship gave him the creeps.

  “Keep me informed,” said Calvin. “Let me know when you take the bridge and secure the entire ship.”

  “Wilco,” said Pellew. It would be another hour, he estimated, before his teams had checked every room on the ship thoroughly enough to deem it secure. And even after doing that, it would take days of combing every square millimeter of every deck with specialists and advanced equipment before they could get any definite answers.

  “Once the ship is secure and all systems are confirmed to be functional,” said Calvin, “I’ll send over a skeleton crew to take control of the ship. We’re bringing it with us.”

  ***

  Calvin released the most fatigued members of White Shift from duty and then went to his office. There he waited for the complete sweep of the Arcane Storm to be finished. He passed the time by organizing a report to himself of everything he wanted to investigate.

  Were there more isotome weapons? If so, where were they? What had happened to the Arcane Storm? Who were the members of the Phoenix Ring? Where were they? And what was their plan now? Had more replicants replaced government officials and military officers? What about the situation on Renora—had princess Kalila attacked the planet? What was her game?

  He also wanted to know more about Raidan’s Organization—which Calvin only cautiously trusted. And he needed to identify the murderer on his ship. And the mole—who might or might not be Patrick.

  He still didn’t know for sure why CERKO had tried to have him killed on Aleator, something else that kept him awake at night. Plus there was the matter of the stolen weapons materials from Aleator, ostensibly by Raidan. And finally, but not of least importance, what had happened to Rafael? Why wouldn’t he report in? If his association with Calvin had been discovered—resulting in his arrest—he could be anywhere by now. Perhaps even secretly executed. But so long as there was a chance Rafael was alive, Calvin wasn’t going to abandon him. H
e’d find out where he was and save him... somehow. That meant taking a trip to Capital World in the near future. A place he’d once called home.

  Eventually he heard back. Sweep complete. Nothing unusual found. No notable cargo. No life aboard. No hazards or booby-traps. All essential systems operable within normal parameters.

  “Thank you,” he replied, using the transmitter at his desk. “The skeleton crew is cleared for transfer to the Arcane Storm.”

  “Acknowledged,” said Jay from the bridge. He’d replaced Sarah at the helm so she could go check on Shen. Calvin had thought of advising her not to see him—since his condition was so severe and prognosis so negative—but thought it might be her last opportunity to see her friend alive.

  “And tell Andre Cowen that current orders stand,” said Calvin. “The Arcane Storm and the Nighthawk are both to remain in holding pattern until I say otherwise.”

  “Understood.”

  Now the question remained, where should they take the Arcane Storm? After some consideration, Calvin decided to return it to the Organization, like he’d been asked, believing that if anyone had the resources to scrutinize the ship in detail and uncover its mysteries, it was them. Calvin pressed the transmitter one more time. “And, Jay.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Send in Tristan.”

  “Aye, aye.”

  Moments later the door opened and the werewolf entered. He still looked thrashed and drained from the battle but no weakness showed in his face or steely eyes. He folded his arms and looked at Calvin curiously. The door slid closed behind him.

  “I think you know why I called you here,” said Calvin.

  Tristan nodded. “It’s time.”

  Calvin motioned toward his transmitter controls and Tristan slowly approached. He came around to Calvin’s side of the desk and, as he was about to enter his commands on the panel, he glanced over at Calvin. “Do you mind?” he asked.

  “Fine.” Calvin stood up and walked away, far enough that he couldn’t see exactly what Tristan entered. The ship’s computer was designed not to log the specific details of transmissions to and from the CO’s office, so unfortunately Calvin wouldn’t be able to extrapolate what Tristan entered.

  “There,” said Tristan, entering the final input. The transmitter sent out a secure message via kataspace and Calvin returned to his desk. He and Tristan stood over the speaker. Waiting.

  With a click, the connection was established.

  “Go ahead,” said Raidan’s familiar voice over the speaker.

  “Calvin and I have completed the mission you gave us,” said Tristan. “We are in possession of the Arcane Storm.”

  “That is the first good news I’ve heard in a long time,” came Raidan’s reply. “Do you have the crew and cargo?”

  “Unfortunately... no,” said Tristan. “We found the ship abandoned in deep space. It’s functional and undamaged, and there is no indication that it was boarded. Or that there was a mutiny.”

  “Has Calvin determined what happened to the crew?”

  “No, I haven’t,” said Calvin. “The escape pods are all visually accounted for and only one of the shuttles is missing. If the ship docked somewhere to unload the crew, it wasn’t a forced operation. And no record of it was left behind in the ship’s log.”

  “Very odd...” said Raidan.

  “There’s more,” said Calvin. “We determined that the ship was last possessed by the Enclave hidden on Tybur. They were in fact using it to ferry isotome missiles, which were to be sold to the Rotham Republic. The Enclave facilitated a process that allowed the isotome to be extracted, stably transported, refined, and manufactured into the weapons.”

  “What were they hoping to get out of it?” asked Raidan.

  “Citizenship in the Republic among other things,” said Calvin.

  “We believe they wanted to help shift the balance of power away from the Empire,” added Tristan.

  “You said the ship has no cargo aboard, I take it that means you failed to find and destroy the isotome weapons,” said Raidan.

  “Yes and no,” said Calvin. “We found some of the weapons, they’d been hidden on Remus Nine awaiting sale—and we destroyed those. But the contact we met with—who we now have in our custody and will extract more information from—indicated that another stockpile of isotome weapons exists.”

  “But we don’t know if it does or not,” said Tristan. “He told us the weapons were on the Arcane Storm. But, when we took the ship, we found nothing of the kind.”

  “They could have been moved,” said Raidan. “Or they could have been fictional. Either way, I think our best lead is to do a full investigation on the Arcane Storm itself and determine exactly what happened to it, and where it’s been.”

  “Agreed,” said Calvin. “I’m prepared to turn the ship over to your command. I just need to know where to rendezvous.”

  “Proceed to Lyra Minor right away. I’ll meet you there.”

  That was an interesting choice of venue, Calvin thought. Since, if he recalled his star charts correctly, Lyra Minor was near Renora. Perhaps that was where Raidan and the Harbinger had been this whole time, monitoring—and possibly influencing—the dire situation there.

  “Why not Gemini?” asked Tristan. “It’s closer and we have more resources there.”

  “Gemini is no longer safe. The Organization had to completely withdraw from the system. Right now it is under heavy investigation by Intel Wing. Apparently someone figured out that we had an operation there. Mira Pellew barely got out in time.”

  “I see,” said Tristan. “Lyra Minor it is.”

  “Proceed there immediately. I’ll be in that system in twelve hours and remain for thirty-six. It’s critical you do not miss that window,” said Raidan.

  “One more thing,” said Calvin. He considered confronting Raidan about the stolen weapon materials missing from Aleator but decided that was a question better asked in person, where he could read Raidan’s body language. “I lost a lot of Polarian soldiers during the action on Remus Nine... I will need replacements.” He decided not to burden Raidan with the information about the murder and the mole. Believing those two mysteries would be solved before they reached Lyra Minor.

  “I have replacement personnel and supplies. The Harbinger’s resources are available to facilitate your every need. Just don’t miss the timeframe I gave you. I can’t stay in the system any longer than that, and I have something important to tell you, but I will only do it in person. I don’t trust kataspace for something like this. So do not miss that window.”

  Calvin was intrigued. “Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”

  Chapter 29

  After ordering both ships to set course for Lyra Minor, and making sure everything else was in order, Calvin went below decks to check up on the wounded. He really ought to be in the infirmary himself, he knew. Some of his scratches and bruises should to be examined and his wrist ached if he twisted it—but he didn’t want to take up any of the Nighthawk’s already stretched medical resources, especially when so many others were in greater need.

  When Calvin entered the infirmary, he was unprepared for the level of chaos he found. Crowded together, five Polarians—all that remained—sat or lay on the floor. Most of them had bandages, and all of them showed signs of injury. Lacerations and cuts had been treated. Broken bones set, three of them had casts on their arms, and a few were unconscious. Some were being attended to, others remained idle. Waiting. Calvin noted that all of the surviving Polarians, except for Rez’nac, had the brilliant blue pigment and were of the younger generation. Calvin wondered if that would adversely change how the Polarians collectively acted toward him and the other humans. The older Polarians, who’d seemed more tolerant and forgiving of cultural and racial differences, had been almost completely wiped out. But, despite any misgivings they had, every last one of these Polarians had fought with supreme valor when the need had arisen. He took that as a hopeful sign.

  On the f
ar bed lay a figure strapped down tight. A medic, Sarah, and two soldiers stood over him. Calvin knew it was Shen. He felt an icy spear of pain cut through him, and couldn’t suppress a flashback of that moment, running through the glass corridor—almost to the gunship, when Shen had proven willing to sacrifice himself to save Calvin. Considering how valuable and unique Shen was, it seemed like such a waste. Why did I allow him to tag along on the away mission?

  The Nighthawk’s entire medical staff had been activated and put to work to deal with the influx of injuries, but on a ship this small that consisted of only six people—all of whom were now scrambling about the infirmary like bees in a hive. Most active of all was Rain, who practically jogged around the room, giving orders with an aura of command Calvin wouldn’t have expected from her. Her brilliant red hair stood out brightly against the drab white and grey of the infirmary and, as Calvin looked at her, and saw the passion with which she worked, he felt something. There was something compelling about this uniquely compassionate and admittedly rather attractive woman.

  Calvin walked deeper into the room, not surprised that his presence went unnoticed and unacknowledged. The staff was wildly busy, and obviously frustrated—the humans’ knowledge of Polarian physiology was limited and the Polarian’s field medic had been slain. At least treating lacerations and setting bones couldn’t be too different across species, Calvin hoped.

  The infirmary felt crowded with all the equipment, the many patients—most of whom weren’t exactly small—the staff, and the armed guards all taking up space, it was difficult to avoid bumping into people. Two patients had SF soldiers standing over them, the captive they took on Remus Nine and Shen. Both occupied cots on the far side of the room and wore restraints. Neither stirred.

  Calvin spotted Rez’nac in the near corner. He was leaning against the wall, clearly trying to stay out of the way while still keeping a watch over his men. Calvin needed to discuss the murder investigation with him, and share the new intelligence that a Polarian had been at the scene of the crime at some point—but decided that now, in the face of such grief and suffering, was not the appropriate time. He took a deep breath and walked up to the Polarian leader, not quite sure what to say.