***
Blackmoth finished with Katja and released her. The rest of her body dropped into the bathtub to join her melted face. He watched the corpse begin to disintegrate and then he swept away.
Originally he’d thought to drown her, but the One True God had wanted a more severe statement made, so Blackmoth—the weapon of the divine—had been forced to comply.
He’d abducted Katja and taken her bound and gagged, smuggled in his trunk, to a random ground-level flat. He’d broken in and made certain no one was home before dragging Katja inside. He’d taken her here, to this random place, to give himself enough time to honor the One True God properly He knew investigators were hunting for Katja. And had he made the sacrifice in her home, where people would be looking, Blackmoth surely would have been interrupted. Katja didn’t resist as he’d pressed her face into the tub. He’d given her the mercy of rendering her unconscious. It did not serve the One True God for Katja to have to suffer. At least, not too much.
He’d filled the tub with powerful acid and then pressed her face into it and let the One True God do the rest. Now she’d been taken care of. The last on the list. And Blackmoth had finished the work he’d been assigned.
The false master who’d asked him to do this would not be pleased, Blackmoth knew. He’d wanted all eighteen to be killed. And that would have been accomplished easily enough. Protective custody or not, Blackmoth could have seen to it. But that had not been the will of the One True God.
It was not yet time for five of the damned on the list to enter the void. It would have been take their lives. And the One True God wanted five of them to live. Five to represent the number of destructions he would reign down on Capital World, humanity, and the entire galaxy. Five was the symbol of the One True God. Four corners and one heart. Five.
Blackmoth knew the will of the One True God. And though he was an unworthy vessel, he followed and obeyed.
Chapter 24
Damn that Blackmoth!
Zane got word from his people that of the eighteen names on that list—people who were loose ends—only thirteen had been properly dealt with. Five remained. And those five, with too much knowledge in their heads and too much wind in their lungs, were now in the custody of the Executor and had become a credible threat.
Why had five lived? Zane knew Blackmoth too well, the assassin had certainly been capable of eliminating all eighteen. It wasn’t a matter of him being outclassed by the Executor’s men. No, Blackmoth had chosen not to slay the remaining five. He must have had one of his psychedelic “visions” and believed that ridiculous god of his had wanted these five to live.
“Damn. Damn. Damn.” He muttered to the quiet room. This left him in a predicament.
Depending on how effective the Executor’s interrogators were, and how tight-lipped the five co-conspirators decided to be, it was only a matter of time before the Executor was able to extrapolate leads that would take him to the senior members of the Phoenix Ring. He wouldn’t get their names, not from these pawns—Zane had known better than to work with them face to face—but they knew people, who knew people, who knew people, who would eventually lead the Executor right to his front door. And what was worse, these five knew the time and place of Ascension. And though the hour of Ascension drew near, it was not yet time. The Executor might put it all together before Ascension was complete.
Zane considered cancelling Ascension. Re-arranging it. Moving it. Something. Buy himself some time to get off-world and dodge the Executor’s hounds. But everything had been carefully architected to lead up to this moment, everything that’d been sacrificed, everyone who’d died, all the expense that had been paid, all of the delicate planning, all of it had been for Ascension. If Zane changed the plan in any way, if he gave his fellows any reason to doubt him or sense his panic, his support would vanish. All of the dark elements that had come forward to support him, that he’d coaxed and persuaded to lay it all on the line for him—for this—would disappear back down their dark holes into total obscurity. He’d never get another chance.
Ascension had to move forward. The rest of the Phoenix Ring expected it. Caerwyn expected it. He could not afford to deviate from it. If anything had ever been destined in the stars, if there was such thing as fate, this was it. It was so close Zane could taste the sweet savor in his mouth.
Ascension would happen. And when the hour came, Zane would make certain that he and all of his closest associates would be safe. There might have been wisdom in disbursing, in spreading out and making everyone as hard to find as possible, but Zane couldn’t risk the panic that might cause. Nor did he see any point in anyone being safe unless he was safe. So it would be best for them all to be together, when the hour came.
Ascension would be glorious. And once the government was theirs, the Empire would be reborn like a golden phoenix, restored to its youthful glory. At the head of this mighty newborn bird, Zane would lead humanity into a greater era than ever before. And no one—not the High Prelain; not the Rahajiim; no one—would stop him.
***
“Behold the fires of hell,” said Ryker. He grinned darkly as he stared up at the Renoran sky. It was swollen and red and bleeding. Tiny streaks of light pierced the dark clouds by the thousands, like a rain of comets.
“Are you sure we’re safe here?” asked Vulture. Ryker looked at him and noted the concern on his face.
“Relax,” said Ryker. “This is how it’s supposed to be.”
“I mean, will the ships fire on this position?” he pressed.
Ryker looked at his men. They stood together in sparsely populated suburb, his entire cell of forty-seven people, weapons in arms and mouths agape as they watched the glowing lights descend. In the distance, deep booms and rumbles of destruction echoed. Vulture was not the only one who showed fear, though the others tried to mask it.
“Ryker?” Vulture stared at him.
“We’re perfectly safe,” said Ryker at last. He turned his eyes skyward once more and followed one of the deadly bombardment rounds as it descended over the horizon. “The strikes were all planned out, every single target. Every cell leader on the planet gave firing coordinates to me and I gave those to Mister Martel. I’m sure he gave them to his ships. After all, we want to fan the flames, not decimate the rebellion. Above all, this attack has to look like a poorly-designed suppressive action in the name of the King.”
“That was all I needed to know,” said Vulture, ostensibly satisfied.
“Phase Two…” said Micah. “Thank the many non-existent gods of atheism that I lived to see it.”
“Is it everything you were hoping for?” asked Ryker.
“I s’pose that depends on how hot the flames burn. But in a word? Yeah. It’s everything I was hoping for.”
Ryker nodded. Now it was time to see how the citizens of Renora reacted. If all went as planned, this would be the final straw. And they would push the Empire and the King’s troops off the planet completely—no matter the cost.
***
“I just received word, sir. Renora has been attacked. Planetary bombardment rounds from orbit like you suspected. I’m sorry,” said Mr. Ivanov over the comm.
Raidan closed his eyes and felt a deep self-hatred brew in his stomach. This was his fault. He never should have taken the Harbinger away from Renora. Not even to save the Nighthawk. He’d created the opportunity for them to strike. He felt a combination of heavy guilt, crushing despair, and intense anger boiling together in his blood. But he kept his voice calm and in control when he spoke.
“How far away are we?” he asked, tapping the line to the bridge.
“Still another couple of hours.”
Even at a jump depth of one-hundred percent potential, leaving the Nighthawk and the supply-ships to follow as best they could with the taste of the Harbinger’s dust in their mouths, it hadn’t been enough. He leaned back and let out a deep sigh, then reached down for the whiskey bottle on the floor.
“Shall I keep us on pres
ent course, sir?” asked Mr. Ivanov.
Raidan realized that now there was no point. Undoubtedly the Phoenix Ring’s ships would withdraw and disappear now that they’d attacked the planet and planted the false flag of the King. Renora would continue to bleed and suffer, and there would be violence aplenty on the surface, but there was no longer a point in keeping watch over it from space. The damage was done. And nothing Raidan could ever do would let him undo it. This was war to the most savage degree.
“No,” Raidan said at last. “Drop us into normal space and provide instructions to the Nighthawk and the supply flotilla to meet us there. We’ll finish the transfer of supplies and the repair operation as soon as possible.”
“Aye sir,” the comm clicked off.
Raidan unstopped the whiskey bottle and thought of the last message he’d received from the commander of the Mary Gale, the lone ship he’d left behind to protect Renora from attack from space.
“They think they’ve got us on the run. Those bastards. We’ve still got a few tricks up our sleeve. But all the same, you’d better get over here right quick.”
That had been only an hour ago. Raidan had hoped the Mary Gale would have been able to harass and disrupt the enemy force long enough for the Harbinger to arrive and assist. Apparently that’d been too optimistic.
He pressed the bottle directly to his lips and sipped straight from it, not even bothering with a glass, as his heart paid tribute to Commander O’Sullivan and his fighting crew aboard the Mary Gale. They were good people all, tried and true, and if Raidan knew the commander, the large, pot-bellied, hot-tempered man wouldn’t have gone down without a serious fight.
“Here’s to you, old friend,” said Raidan as he lifted the bottle. He took another sip and then set the bottle on his desk. I made a mistake, he thought. I made a mistake and my enemies will pay. An eye for an eye.
He immediately set to work drafting orders for his own weapon—one that sat in disguise circling a seemingly random Rotham world—to be fired immediately. If the Phoenix Ring was willing to be uncompromising and unforgiving in their strikes, he had to be as well. It was time for them to get a taste of their own medicine.
***
“The death toll is already in the millions,” said Celeste. She’d reached out to him from some hiding place off-system in order to give him this latest dispatch. “I’m told the entire eco-system is being affected. Those who weren’t hit by the biological weapon directly will still starve when the plant-life dies and the crops fail.”
“What percentage of the population on Cepheus has been affected so far?” asked Zane. He rubbed his hands nervously and tried to think of what he should do. In truth he didn’t care about the Rotham people or their suffering, they could all die and it would probably be a gift to the universe, but he did worry about the Rahajiim—and what they would think.
“Less than one percent,” said Celeste. “However, the local government has declared a state of emergency and the Republic is rushing aid to the system. The Republic has sworn they will get to the bottom of this attack, and that there will be a swift and decisive response.”
“I don’t give a damn about the Republic,” said Zane. “Let them rattle their sabers all they like. We both know they aren’t the true power in the region.”
“As to that…” said Celeste. “Our people in the Advent confirm… the weapons in the attack have been linked to MXR…”
A rush of panic seized Zane’s throat. “And the Rahajiim?”
“No one knows,” said Celeste. “But I’m sure they will come to the obvious conclusion. That the Phoenix Ring was behind the attack. They’ll probably think it was retribution for what happened with the Enclave.”
Zane knew she was right. And, while this kind of retribution was surely the stupidest strategy he and the Phoenix Ring could deploy, taking a vicious swipe at a stronger enemy like a hyena scratching a sleeping lion, he didn’t doubt that there were some in his organization who would have welcomed such an aggressive response. Many of his people—most who knew the situation—were upset that the Phoenix Ring had failed to recruit the Enclave. And many of those same people believed a statement had to be made. Believing erroneously that the Phoenix Ring could adequately protect itself against the Rahajiim. In time the Phoenix Ring would become the most powerful organization in the history of the galaxy, but for that to happen it needed total command of the Imperial Fleet. And that wouldn’t be possible until after Ascension.
“And…” said Zane, almost hesitant to ask the question. “Is there any chance that our people were behind the attack?” He hoped his associates weren’t that stupid. He also believed that for such a bold measure to be taken without his knowledge would have been impossible—but then again he also may have overestimated his hand. It could be that the entire situation was less in his control than he’d assumed, and that possibility terrified him.
“It’s still being looked into,” said Celeste, “but no. I don’t think there is any way this could have been us. Not without you ordering it, or me hearing about it.”
Zane nodded. That was good news, but not great news. Regardless of who was truly responsible, the Rahajiim—who were already distrustful of the Phoenix Ring—would certainly blame Zane’s people for the attack. This would further strain relations and now cooperation between the two groups was impossible. They would seek retribution. And when they did, Zane knew it would be total and severe. If it came before Ascension… then he was a dead man. But if he could keep himself and his people alive long enough for Ascension to be complete, then the Rahajiim would merely be flies before the might of his war-machine.
“Since we both know the attack wasn’t sanctioned by the Imperial government, and we didn’t carry it out, and the Rahajiim certainly didn’t attack their own people, there is only one group who could be behind it,” said Celeste.
“The Organization,” said Zane immediately. It was obvious. This was one of the only ways they could still hurt the Phoenix Ring. It was probably a response to him targeting and killing most of their assets on Capital World. Effectively cutting them out of the game. This was certainly the most brutal measure the Organization had ever taken, but they’d never been so desperate before. And he knew they were as willing to accept collateral losses as he was—so long as the ends justified it.
“Unfortunately the Advent—according to our spies—has not found anything to implicate the Organization. Whoever was behind the attack did a perfectly thorough job of connecting it to us,” said Celeste. “I don’t think there is any possibility the Rahajiim won’t blame us. So, we need to be prepared.”
The timing of the attack was about as bad as possible. Zane wondered if White Rook somehow knew that relations between the Phoenix Ring and the Rahajiim were strained and distrustful, or if she’d timed her attack so perfectly by luck.
“I think we need to focus on damage control,” said Celeste.
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Zane. Though, in truth, there was little he could do. “I think it’s time to start bringing our forces home. Our interests in Capital System and the heart of the Empire must be protected. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
“What about the An—”
“All of them,” said Zane. “I’m bringing all of them. Because now… it’s all or nothing.” He switched off the terminal and then began sending out his orders. There were ships, very important ships, that had to be diverted to the system. He also needed the Phoenix Ring bunker to be prepped and sufficiently defended so that he and the others would be safe when the hour of Ascension was upon them. Safe from the Executor, safe from the Organization, and most importantly—safe from the Rahajiim.
He was interrupted by a high alert call to his mobile. Only the most important people knew the number and he changed mobiles frequently, often destroying the mobile and replacing it after an important call.
“Go ahead,” he said after flipping open the phone. He knew that most communications were being monito
red by the Executor’s people, which was why he insisted on only using secure lines.
“What the hell were you thinking?” screamed Rita Donovan. “Cepheus?!”
“Cepheus was not our operation,” he explained calmly. “It was a false flag planted by the Organization.”
“Regardless… the Rahajiim,” she struggled to get the word out.
She had every right and reason to be troubled by this news. And Zane knew, better than anyone in the Phoenix Ring, how truly dangerous the Rahajiim was, but he also couldn’t afford to let Rita go into a panic, or frighten the others. Their best hope now was to hide and await Ascension. If they started fleeing the system every which way, they would only be hunted down and eliminated one-by-one. “Stay calm,” said Zane.
“How can I possibly stay calm?”
“Everything is under control,” he assured her. “The Rahajiim will not be able to act before Ascension. And once Ascension is complete, there will literally be nothing that can stop us. All the might of the Empire will be ours and more.”
“And if they do strike before Ascension… It will be our heads for this!”
“They won’t,” said Zane in the most confident and reassuring voice he could muster. “Don’t forget, we have resources of our own. Enough to keep us safe. So long as we stick together.”
Chapter 25
Miles took his leave of the bridge and headed for the lower decks.
In truth he was glad to be out of there. He was getting tired of seeing Summers, despite how positively sexy she was. If she wore a bit less clothing, or something tighter, he could probably stomach being around her a little easier. But since she dressed as modestly and professionally as she could—not even cropping her uniform—there wasn’t much reason to have her around. She was a stick in the mud, and grouchy, and for some reason always on his case. He assumed it was because he was attractive to her. Why else would she give him so much more attention than anyone else—and hell, he didn’t blame her—but her way of flirting was confusing and tiring. And always left him in need of a good stiff drink and a long nap.
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