The Phoenix Crisis

by Richard L. Sanders

  When the large part of the city became visible, and they glided at an altitude of about two-thousand meters—low enough to have to avoid some of the taller buildings—the sights became very familiar to Calvin and he felt a wave of nostalgia tug at him. It had been a long time since he’d been here. But this planet, more than any other, was home. A flood of memories poured through him, from his childhood all the way up through attending Camdale.

  He took in a deep breath and allowed himself to relax. Thinking that, no matter what dark conspiracies awaited him, in some ways it was still good to be home.

  Chapter 12

  The fierce-looking ISS Wolverine was partially visible out the window. By battleship standards it was enormous—nearly the size of a proper dreadnought—and compared to the Desert Eagle it seemed to stretch on forever. Nimoux looked at it, his eyes watching the white-and-blue identifier lights as they cut through the blackness, bouncing off the hull of the mighty warship.

  “ISS Wolverine has changed its heading and is accelerating,” reported the ops officer. “It is on course to intercept us and has commenced docking preparations.”

  “They’re hailing us,” said the helmsman.

  Nimoux pressed his hands together as he watched the monstrosity before them yaw to starboard. “On speakers,” he commanded.

  “IWS Desert Eagle, this is Commodore Elias Hill of the ISS Wolverine. You are hereby ordered to dock with this vessel.”

  “Understood,” replied Nimoux. Intel Wing had already informed him that he was to dock with the Wolverine. “Will comply.” He maintained calm but felt suspicious and unsettled.

  “Captain Lafayette Nimoux, you are ordered to come aboard the Wolverine as soon as docking position has been established.”

  Nimoux knew this already as well, though it still didn’t make sense to him. “Commodore, what purpose is being served in my going aboard the Wolverine?” asked Nimoux.

  “You will obey your orders.” With that the communication terminated.

  “Shall I bring us into position to dock, sir?” asked the helmsman.

  “Do it,” said Nimoux flatly. He watched the two ships on the 3d display, the massive Wolverine and the tiny Desert Eagle angling to connect their airlocks. He wondered what he could expect once he’d gone aboard the Wolverine, and what purpose could possibly be served by bringing him aboard the other ship. Perhaps it was a legitimate purpose—maybe information had to be given to him that couldn’t, for whatever reason, be trusted to kataspace.

  The whole thing smelled too foul, though, for him to truly expect this operation was entirely legitimate. He was more certain than he’d ever been that Calvin had been onto something when he’d warned Nimoux about the conspiracy within the military. Now Nimoux believed he was witnessing a piece of that plot firsthand. The question was… what did they have to gain in summoning Nimoux here? If they captured him, his absence would be noted. His name carried far too much weight across the Empire for his disappearance to go unanswered and unexplained. Surely the conspirators couldn’t move against him directly—if they indeed had determined him to be a threat.

  For the same reasons, he didn’t think they could kill him. Unless it was made to look like an accident… perhaps then they could get away with it.

  “You’d better get down there, sir,” said his XO. There was a look of slight concern on the hardened man’s face and Nimoux knew that he too smelled something strange about this whole situation.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Nimoux tapped his fingers together pensively for another moment, then he tapped his direct line to Special Forces HQ.

  “Major Rask here,” came the voice of the special forces commander on his ship.

  “Major, I want you and an escort of your best soldiers to meet me at airlock four. We’re going aboard the ISS Wolverine.”

  “Aye, sir,” she replied.

  If there were to be a fight, a handful of special forces soldiers wouldn’t make any kind of difference. The purpose of bringing them along was to lessen the chances of any incident befalling Nimoux by creating witnesses and, hopefully, an unacceptably high collateral risk.

  Nimoux stood up and dusted out the wrinkles of his uniform. He looked his XO in the eyes. “You are to await my return, no matter what. The ship will not leave this sector of space until I am back on the bridge, is that clear?”

  His XO saluted. “Of course, sir,” he seemed almost surprised that Nimoux would even have to say that. But he had his reasons. If he were being brought aboard the Wolverine for the purpose of keeping him off the Desert Eagle—perhaps in custody—he wanted the Desert Eagle’s crew to make a fuss about it, and do everything in their power to find out why and what was going on.

  With that, Nimoux left the bridge.

  He arrived at the airlock and his soldiers were already there. Major Rask, looking strong and athletic, was certainly one of the fiercest looking women Nimoux had ever seen. She’d brought four of her soldiers with her, three men and a woman. All were armed and appeared ready for anything.

  “Major,” Nimoux saluted.

  “Captain,” she saluted back. “Are we expecting trouble over there?”

  “To be honest, Major,” said Nimoux as the hatch began to pull back, “I have no idea what to expect.”

  The hatch opened fully and an escort of Imperial marines was waiting for them, along with the Wolverine’s XO—Commander Nelson.

  “This way, Captain,” Commander Nelson said with a salute. She had short brown hair and wore the full navy uniform, including the hat.

  Nimoux returned the salute and stepped aboard the deck of the Wolverine. His escort of soldiers came along.

  Commander Nelson led them down the corridor and toward one of the many elevators. Nimoux walked at her side, his soldiers followed, flanked by about fifteen marines.

  “Welcome aboard the Wolverine, sir,” said Commander Nelson.

  “Do you know what this is about, Commander?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid I don’t,” she replied. “I just know my orders, it’s not my place to question them.”

  The group went around the corner and ran into a column of marines with weapons drawn. Nimoux felt his heart race as he spotted them, their weapons brandished at him and his escort, there had to be at least twenty marines. Not to mention the fifteen at the flanks who, he noticed, had also raised their weapons. To their credit, Major Rask and her men had raised their own firearms and looked willing to fight—if it came down to it, even though they were hopelessly outmatched.

  “Drop your weapons!” ordered one of the marines; his fatigues showed the insignia of Master Sergeant. “Hands on your heads!”

  “What is the meaning of this?” Nimoux looked at Commander Nelson.

  “I’m sorry, Captain,” she said. “Orders are orders.”

  “Drop your weapons or we will open fire!” commanded the marine.

  “I’d do what he says,” said Commander Nelson. She stepped out of the line of fire and behind the column of soldiers.

  Nimoux looked around; his tiny group was surrounded on all sides.

  “Sir, your orders?” asked Major Rask. She held her rifle square to her shoulder and was peering down the iron sights, ready to open fire if he commanded it. He was grateful for her loyalty but saw no need to throw their lives away. Besides, they wouldn’t get away with this… not Captain Hill, not Commander Nelson, not the Fleet. This would not stand. It couldn’t.

  “Stand down,” ordered Nimoux and he raised his hands to his head.

  Major Rask and the other special forces soldiers lowered their weapons. Several of the marines rushed forward and seized them. Disarming the group from the Desert Eagle.

  “Now, Captain, if you’ll be so kind as to come this way,” said Commander Nelson. Two Marines went to Nimoux’s sides to make sure he complied. Nimoux did not resist. He stepped toward Commander Nelson, like she’d asked. All the while thinking she would answer for this.

  “This is unacceptable,�
� said Nimoux.

  “Don’t worry, Captain, your people will not be harmed. They will wait for you here. Now step lively and follow me. What you’re about to see is for your eyes only.” She gave him a wicked smile and led the way.

  ***

  After their shuttle landed, Calvin and Kalila made their way through the terminal and out into the public street. Once they were outdoors and Calvin felt the humid air of Capital World on his skin—making him instantly feel like he needed a shower—he couldn’t help but smile and take everything in.

  He walked beside Kalila, who seemed to know where she was going, and he kept his eyes vigilant. Now that he was unarmed, if they did run into any kind of serious trouble there wasn’t much Calvin could do to protect Kalila—or himself—but he intended to be ready for it anyway. He glanced suspiciously from person to person in the thick crowds, and from vehicle to vehicle, searching for the tell-tale signs of surveillance, or that they were being followed, or for anyone that just plain seemed out of place.

  Calvin spotted a motorcade of dark cars. They were parked parallel to the main street. Some people in suits and sunglasses were standing around next to them, many of whom wore earpieces and most had firearms. Two had concealed shoulder-holsters, Calvin noted the bulge under their coats, and several others wore boots that looked almost designed to facilitate ankle-holstered weapons.

  “We may have trouble,” whispered Calvin. “Black cars. Ninety-degrees.” He wasn’t sure who the security motorcade represented, and thought that if they indeed were here to pick up Kalila and drag her away to some Phoenix Ring dungeon they had certainly picked a conspicuous way to do it.

  Kalila looked and saw them. In her haste to get through the crowd, and being quite a bit shorter than Calvin, she hadn’t noticed them until he’d pointed them out.

  “Good,” she said. And she changed direction, now cutting perpendicular through the crowd to get to the street. Calvin followed.

  “So these are the good guys?” he asked, not sure why else Kalila would want to meet them head on.

  “Yes these are the good guys,” she replied. “They’re my father’s men.”

  They reached the men standing next to the lead car and Kalila introduced herself. They didn’t seem to recognize her—thanks to her altered appearance—but the sound of her voice, her aura of command, and a passphrase she knew served to convince them of her identity. From what Calvin could tell, this meeting had been arranged all along.

  “We’re ready to escort you to the Capitol District, Your Highness,” the centermost bodyguard said. He tapped his earpiece and spoke something into it, confirming that Kalila had safely arrived. He then looked at Calvin, his eyes unreadable behind his dark sunglasses. Calvin looked back at him suspiciously. Wondering if it was possible the Phoenix Ring had gotten to these men and bribed them, or replaced them…

  “Thank you,” said Kalila. The men took her satchel and helped her into the car.

  Calvin wasn’t about to leave Kalila alone with these men—not until he was sure they were who she thought they were—so he climbed into the car after her, leaving the luggage bag on the curb for the men to take care of.

  The car was surprisingly large on the inside, and unnecessarily luxurious. It even had a working sink. Calvin couldn’t imagine why anyone would need half the things in this car while traveling, but Kalila put them to good use. She immediately opened some bottles and other effects that had been left waiting for her and she began the process of restoring her natural appearance.

  “If I am to go before the Assembly, they will have to recognize me,” she explained. “Feel free to do the same.”

  The car pulled away from the curb and out into traffic. Calvin instinctively looked around for a safety-strap but there were none, and he supposed in a vehicle this large and spacious—and slow—one wasn’t really necessary.

  Kalila dabbed some kind of cream on her face and then let it sit untouched for about five minutes before rinsing it off. It made her skin look more natural and less pale. Already she’d managed to restore her hair to the proper color. It made Calvin think that, for all the advances humanity had made—journeying into the stars, colonizing distant worlds, curing complex diseases—cosmetics technologies were apparently the most advanced of all. Which made Calvin wonder what statement that made about human society in general.

  He grabbed one of the bottles and squirted some of the goo onto his hand. He looked at Kalila who gave him a funny look.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” she smiled.

  “Haven’t a clue.” On the Nighthawk he’d had his trained staff alter his appearance for him. All he’d done was lie back and close his eyes for half an hour.

  “Put it on your face, rub it evenly all over—but keep it out of your eyes.” She went on to give him directions on how to remove his artificial tan, dissolve the fake skin that’d been grafted onto his fingers, and un-color his hair. He was hesitant to remove the mahogany brown, he rather liked it, but he remembered how Rain had laughed at him and he decided to return to his usual sandy-colored self after all.

  By the time he was very gingerly taking the green lenses out of his eyes, they were pulling into the secure parking garage of the Assembly Hall. If he were to ambush the car, Calvin thought, this would be an ideal place to do it.

  He peered out the window at the concrete walls and barriers, the other cars, and the sparse security personnel moving about. All the while he held his breath, awaiting attack, but no attack came.

  “Done,” Kalila announced. She put down the instruments in her hands—Calvin had no idea what they were, some sort of makeup tools she’d used to apply makeup to herself for the last ten minutes of the drive.

  Calvin looked at her and saw the same olive-skinned, raven-haired, brown-eyed, beautiful princess who had stolen his breath away during their first face-to-face encounter on Tau Station.

  “How do I look?” she asked, shifting positions a few times so he could see every side of her.

  “Stunning,” he said.

  A tiny grin appeared on her lips and, if it had been someone else, he would have sworn he saw a hint of warm embarrassment in her eyes.

  “No, I mean did I get everything off,” she said. “Do I look like myself?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Flawless.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Flawless job,” he corrected. “You did a flawless job,” he felt his face go red. She let it slide.

  “So did you,” she said. He felt his face and ran his fingers through his hair—which was probably very untidy looking—and took a deep breath.

  “Well, are you ready?” he asked as the car came to a stop.

  “I’m ready.”

  They entered the Assembly Hall through a rear entrance and their escort followed, though probably not technically allowed to do so.

  Calvin hesitated when they reached the elegant antechamber. He’d seen the Assembly Hall countless times, but he’d never been inside before. Kalila, on the other hand, seemed to regard it like a worn-out summer home. She pushed her way through the main entrance and Calvin followed her along a carpeted path that led to the Assembly Floor Proper.

  The Assembly Floor was probably the largest room Calvin had ever seen. Its lush décor included tapestries and statues, and there were stadium-like seats stacked high in a semi-circle, balcony raised above balcony, reaching almost to the ceiling. Enough seats to accommodate the almost four-hundred members of the Assembly, representing every planet in the Empire.

  The Assembly was clearly in session. Most of the seats were filled and on the bottom level three senior Assembly members were interviewing a panel of four expert witnesses. There was an empty table at the end of the pathway and Calvin was sure it had been set aside for people entering the Assembly Floor to wait for the current proceedings to end. When they reached the table Calvin stopped in his tracks, looking to Kalila for some cue as to what he was supposed to do. She, on the other hand, seemed foc
used and in control. She moved—followed by her escort in black suits— out to the center of the Assembly Floor, effectively putting a halt to the current proceedings, and then took a microphone from one of the four witnesses. Security personnel converged on them and for a moment Calvin feared there would be a firefight on the Assembly Floor. But the Assembly’s security personnel stopped in their tracks the moment Kalila spoke. And then began talking animatedly into their earpieces, no doubt requesting instructions.

  “Honored Representatives of the Imperial Assembly,” said Kalila into the mic. Her voice boomed throughout the chamber. “I am Princess Kalila Akira, and I come before you in the name of the King.”

  There were shocked whispers and dissenting voices. Calvin scanned the room to try to judge the general feeling of the crowd, their reaction was neither overwhelmingly positive or negative, mostly just baffled.

  “Royal Princess,” said one of the three senior Assembly members who sat on the raised platform before her. Calvin recognized her as the representative from Thetican System, Representative Miranda Tate. “You are interrupting the Defense Committee on the matter of—”

  The security personnel formed a tight circle around Kalila and her men. They still looked confused and in need of direction, and many were still speaking into their earpieces or else listening to commands from their superiors. It wasn’t every day that the daughter of the King, who was also a suspect in a terrorist strike, interrupted the proceedings of the Imperial Assembly.

  “The matter I bring before you all is urgent. I, along with Captain Adiger and the crew of the ISS Black Swan, stand falsely accused of a terrorist action against the citizens and government of Renora. Even now the tragic situation continues, and the culprits responsible must be brought to justice for their crimes. But know this—the Black Swan did not participate in the attack on Renora, nor was it a party to that attack.”

  Realizing that opening this can of worms meant the current matter before the Assembly was going to be delayed, Representative Tate dismissed the four expert witnesses and then officially opened up the matter of the Renora Attack before the Assembly. While it benefitted Kalila by validating her interruption, and thereby preventing the Assembly Security forces from seizing her and her men—at least not yet—Calvin suspected the true motive for opening up the issue of the Renora Attack was to maintain the illusion of power—to create the impression that Kalila was standing before all of them today at Representative Tate’s pleasure.