The Phoenix Crisis

by Richard L. Sanders

  Commander Presley acknowledged him and said that the Nighthawk’s computer and analysts would get to work on the data immediately. But she also made the unusual request—no demand—to meet with Raidan in person. Summers had her charms and Raidan welcomed the chance to see her again, they had worked as a command team for a long time after all. But he was suspicious of Summers’ motives.

  “Very well, I agree,” he said, transmitting his reply to the Nighthawk.

  While he awaited Summers’ arrival, he received word back from White Rook. She acknowledged his request and said that she would do everything she could. Raidan understood that the Organization’s resources were pressed thin, and that their reach had been significantly reduced, but he took White Rook’s message as a positive sign. White Rook also provided him with an update on what was happening on Cepheus. Raidan scanned through the documents with some hesitation. It was like staring at a gruesome accident, revolting to look at and yet too fascinating to avert one’s eyes from—except made worse because Raidan knew he’d been the catalyst behind all the destruction.

  The death toll was high and rising, the planet’s eco-system was struggling, and there were panicked riots across the surface. The Rotham Republic was having to divert considerable resources to deal with the problem. Relief ships by the thousand, and even troop transports. The Republic was even considering the logistics of a planet-wide evacuation, though Raidan knew it wouldn’t come to that.

  “What have I done?” he whispered as he read through the unapologetic, unflinching reports. They were cold statements of fact about the suffering of very real people—in numbers he could scarcely imagine. And still there remained weapons to be fired. Hopefully… it wouldn’t come to that. But if it did… he knew what he had to do. “May our children forgive us,” he whispered.

  The important details were all positive. The Republic was not blaming the Empire for the attack, which was good—Raidan’s greatest fear had been that he would accidentally trigger a war between the Republic and the Empire—and by all accounts the Rotham investigators had recovered the evidence the Organization had planted to implicate the Phoenix Ring. All the hushed talk was about MXR and its involvement in the attack, and things looked very positive that the Rotham element of the conspiracy was breaking ties with the human conspirators. If they were very lucky, this would lead to the Phoenix Ring’s collapse.

  Eventually he closed the reports and tried to clear his head. He took a sip of whiskey and waited for Summers Presley to arrive. He considered greeting her the instant she came aboard, for old time’s sake, but decided that she should come to him instead.

  ***

  When Summers boarded the Harbinger, she did so with mixed feelings. Everything about it from its haunted grim-grey walls to its cautiously-secretive staff—whose voices all dropped to whispers around her—felt wrong and out-of-place. This giant metal beast, this behemoth, was like a great statue that soared the stars in tribute to Raidan, and his lies, and his deceit, and everything that was wrong and illegitimate about the galaxy.

  But it also served a purpose. And, in so far as Calvin believed that cooperating with Raidan would help them to restore the Empire, Summers was willing to play nice and make things work—but she had every intention of seeing Raidan brought to justice when this was through. For that matter she was ready to stand and account for her actions as well, and accept the consequences.

  Her escort took her through the ship and up several decks until they arrived at the bridge. It was probably the largest control center she’d ever seen, aside from a starbase, and she was amazed by the number of people who attended to so many terminals and coordinated with other staff throughout the ship. There was so much foot traffic, and so many people coming and going, that no one paid her any attention. Her escort led her to an adjoining office and pressed a button, announcing her arrival. The person on the other side of the door buzzed her in and Summers took a moment to steel her nerves before entering.

  She was greeted by a blank office with almost no décor. On the far side was an old-fashioned cedar desk with a whiskey bottle on top of it. Raidan sat in his chair, head resting on his hands, and he watched her enter in silence—almost studying her. She felt uncomfortable and seeing him, and his striking eyes, sent a flurry of emotions through her.

  “Hello Captain,” she said, in the most neutral voice she could. The door slid closed behind her.

  “Commander,” said Raidan. “I take it you have some kind of concern about the ongoing repair of your ship?”

  “No, the repair and resupply is going fine,” said Summers. “That is not why I’m here.”

  “Well then, what can I do for you, Commander?” He leaned back in his chair looking very comfortable, very in control. Summers wasn’t about to let him phase her. She cleared her throat.

  “I’m here for one reason, and one alone,” she said. Noting a look of curiosity come over Raidan’s face. He did not interrupt her. “I know that you contacted Calvin, back when we’d just taken control of the Arcane Storm,” said Summers. “And I know that you told him you had something urgent to tell him, something that you would not trust to kataspace. Calvin sent Second Lieutenant Vargas in his place to meet with you, as his representative. And Vargas had instructions to hear what you had to say. I also know that you didn’t trust Mister Vargas with knowledge of this urgent matter, for whatever reason. I am here to find out what it is.” She folded her arms.

  A slight, crooked grin spread across Raidan’s lips. He looked humored, not threatened. Summers got the impression Raidan wasn’t taking her seriously.

  “Well?” pressed Summers.

  “Technically Calvin contacted me, I didn’t contact him,” said Raidan.

  “And?”

  Raidan stared at Summers for a moment, meeting her eyes with his piercing, cunning orbs. Almost disarming her. It took everything Summers had to meet his gaze and not look away. She reminded herself why she was here, and what Raidan had done—and what Raidan was capable of—and that helped her find her innermost steel.

  “Mister Vargas wasn’t Calvin. I see no reason why I should share classified information with him that was meant for Calvin’s ears, and Calvin’s ears only,” said Raidan at last. “Especially when Calvin specifically told me that he would meet me, as arranged, and instead he sends a lesser officer in his place. And breaks our arrangement.” Raidan allowed no emotion to inflect his tone, he spoke so matter-of-factly it was as if he were a robot, but Summers knew him better than that. She could tell he was personally offended by Calvin’s decision to snub him and meet with Kalila instead.

  “Calvin had other business to attend to,” said Summers. “Otherwise he would have met with you as agreed. He and I, together, made the decision that the other matter was more urgent.”

  “And what was this other matter, I wonder,” said Raidan. “Something that somehow resulted in Calvin’s appointment as Executor of the Empire,” he said. “Clearly Calvin met with the princess and made some kind of deal with the Akira House,” said Raidan, as if it were as plain and simple to him as a child’s puzzle. “But it does beg the question… why did Calvin choose not to trust me with this information?”

  “Calvin was commanded not to trust anyone with it,” said Summers automatically. “I’m sure he would have told you if he had been at liberty to do so.”

  “And yet he told you,” Raidan raised an eyebrow.

  Summers wasn’t sure what to say. Raidan was right, Calvin had violated his orders from Kalila to inform Summers—for which Summers was grateful—but there was no denying that it showed Calvin trusted Summers more than he trusted Raidan. A wise choice, but a hard one to explain to Raidan himself.

  “It weakens an alliance for trusted allies to withhold information from each other,” said Raidan. “And to arrange secret deals under the table without the other’s knowledge. Makes one question a man’s loyalty,” said Raidan. Summers felt eerily like Raidan was playing a game with her, as if testing her i
n some way. She shrugged it off.

  “The situation is what it is,” said Summers. “We all want to see the Empire purged of corruption and restored to its proper order. Calvin did what he had to do to get into a position where he could combat the corruption directly, and he is hard at work on Capital World going after the most rotten core of the conspiracy. You, of all people, should be able to respect and understand his motives.” Now it was her turn to challenge him. Her eyes narrowed and she watched him closely.

  “As it happens, Commander,” said Raidan, “our interests do align, and so I am not upset with Calvin. Nor do I see his actions as a personal betrayal. I’m proud of what he’s doing; his efforts might be the thin line that protects us from the darker elements of this conspiracy—which goes far deeper than you can imagine. In fact, I intend to enable and assist Calvin in every way that I possibly can. However, I cannot tell you what I was going to tell him. I’m sorry.”

  Summers wasn’t pleased. “I’ll have you know that I have Calvin’s full trust and confidence. And I command his ship, and his crew, in his absence. If there was something you needed him to know, or something you wanted him to do, you should tell me. And perhaps I will do it in his stead—so long as it’s in the best interest of the Empire.”

  Raidan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Commander. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “I know it was something for which you gave him a twenty-four hour timeframe,” said Summers, recalling her conversation with Calvin. “A time period that now has already lapsed. But I still want to know what it was, and whether or not it’s a consideration that is still in play.”

  “The time period has lapsed,” said Raidan. “The opportunity is not nearly what it was, but it’s still in play.” He looked at her squarely. “And if Calvin wants to know, he’ll have to come tell me that himself.” There was no compromise in Raidan’s eyes, nor did he seem willing to negotiate. Summers wasn’t sure whether this refusal was Raidan’s way of punishing Calvin for breaking their rendezvous, or if he simply did not trust Summers enough to tell her. Perhaps it was both.

  “Fine,” said Summers, realizing there was no longer a point in prolonging this discussion. “But don’t take Calvin’s support—or mine—for granted. I’ll be watching you.” Her eyes narrowed sharply.

  Raidan grinned slightly. “I hope you do.”

  Chapter 28

  All of the military channels were abuzz with the news; Calvin followed the developments closely, wondering whether it would prove beneficial or detrimental to his cause. He couldn’t see how it was bad news, but on the other hand there was a strangeness to the timing. Almost like this was part of some kind of plan, some kind of design.

  The Andromeda, which had been officially missing since the action at Abia, had returned. Only hours ago it’d dropped out of alteredspace in Capital System and docked with one of the orbital outposts. From the images Calvin had found of it, and the reports he unearthed, the ship was intact and undamaged. With no scars or signs of the fierce battle it’d taken part in at Abia. Calvin hoped Vice Admiral Harkov was still in command of the mighty vessel, if she was she could testify to the Assembly of the betrayal that’d happened in Abia—further strengthening Calvin’s case that a conspiracy was afoot. During the fight the Andromeda’s own flotilla had fired on itself, battleships turning against the flagship and the destroyers. Within minutes the flotilla had been shredded to space dust, all but the Andromeda. Which had narrowly escaped destruction. If Harkov told the Representatives of the Assembly, and everyone else, about the carnage that had happened in Abia. About how human ships had fired upon other human ships, and how brothers had slain brothers in a pointless bloody slaughter…it might be enough to shake free some of Caerwyn Martel’s supporters. And bring them over to Kalila’s side. Maybe then Calvin would have more time to round up the conspiracy’s leaders and expose the Phoenix Ring. And the Empire would be saved.

  But, as hopeful of a sign as the Andromeda’s return was, troubling thoughts persisted. Why had the ship gone missing? Why had it mysteriously returned—and chosen this moment to do so. And perhaps most curious of all, how had the ship been repaired? Who had arranged for and paid for those repairs? And why were the Intel Wing archives and the military databases silent on the matter. How had the Empire’s best resources and information gathering agencies been kept in the dark?

  Calvin wondered if perhaps this Andromeda was not the real Andromeda. Kalila’s extremely powerful dreadnought, the Black Swan, had been effectively cloned and built by a foreign power. Was the same thing possible for the Andromeda? It seemed hard to believe. The Andromeda was an alpha-class ship, much like the Black Swan, but I seemed far too expensive and ludicrous an undertaking for someone to build not one but two alpha-class ships without word getting to Intel Wing. But… Calvin couldn’t rule it out. He supposed he would know for sure whether this ship was legitimate once members of its crew went aboard the orbital station and were seen. It was one thing to clone a ship. But it was quite another to clone an entire crew. Sure, there were replicants here and there who’d replaced some critical personnel—Calvin knew. But there was no way the Phoenix Ring had made a thousand unique replicants to replace the entire crew of the Andromeda. It was impossible. Calvin was sure.

  There was other interesting news, the Andromeda hadn’t been the only high-profile ship to appear in Capital System in the last several hours. The Desert Eagle had come as well. And though that ship hadn’t been missing—and its presence shouldn’t be too shocking or inexplicable—Calvin still found it strange. Last he’d known, Nimoux had been tasked with hunting him down. And, while Calvin was no longer a fugitive and the order to capture him had been rescinded, the order to capture the Nighthawk was still in play. Calvin had assumed that Nimoux and his taskforce of ships had been hunting after Summers and the others. A concern that had heightened his anxiety and made sleep difficult. The Nighthawk was in no condition for a fight and Summers and the others weren’t truly a match for Nimoux and his unparalleled skill at deduction and intelligence gathering. Calvin had only managed to comfort himself with the memory that Nimoux wanted the Nighthawk taken alive and intact—he’d prevented the Phoenix from destroying the ship after all.

  But, now that the Desert Eagle was here, clearly not pursuing the Nighthawk, it meant one of two things. Either the Nighthawk had been captured or destroyed—which Calvin would have heard about—or else Nimoux had been pulled off the hunt.

  It made Calvin wonder what mission could possibly be more important to the Phoenix Ring. How did they plan to use Nimoux, the most brilliant operative in all of Intel Wing, to further their depraved agenda? He had no clue. Maybe, if Calvin was lucky, Nimoux was here for his own purposes. Maybe he’d taken Calvin’s warning seriously and, after spying the Rotham fleet in Remus System, Nimoux had put two and two together and was now doing what he could to get to the bottom of things and save the Empire. Nimoux was certainly smart enough to realize things were amiss and Intel Wing had been compromised. Hopefully that was exactly what had happened. Perhaps he’d come to Capital World to warn the Assembly in person that a Rotham fleet had crossed into Imperial space. Calvin knew that Nimoux had gone before the Assembly before, and that his reputation carried considerable weight, so if Nimoux was willing to testify of the things he’d seen—and Calvin believed him to be a man of integrity—it would go a long way toward convincing the Assembly that there was an imminent threat. Which should, if there was any logic to the universe, convince more of them to support Kalila and the monarch. So it was difficult for Calvin to see how this was bad news. Though the strangeness of the timing, both for the Desert Eagle and the Andromeda, did give him a haunted sense of foreboding.

  He continued to keep tabs on these developments as he resumed work on his investigation. With Rosemarie’s help Calvin was able to pinpoint where the Intel Wing prisons were—the interrogation houses that were completely off the books—and he was making arrangements for a simultaneous raids on all
of them. Nearly every piece was in place now, and soon—he was sure—he’d find Rafael. Hopefully alive. But Calvin knew better than to assume all would be well.

  His concentration was interrupted by a high level message. Kalila warned him that he would be called before the Assembly in very little time. That he should prepare himself. And, before Calvin could process what it meant, he received the official summons. He was ordered before the Assembly immediately. He gave the order for the raids to begin. Then he headed for the door without taking even a minute to adjust his appearance or put on nicer clothes. If the Assembly wanted to see him immediately, he decided it was best to get there as soon as he could.

  ***

  After being sworn in, Calvin took his place on the Assembly Floor next to Kalila on one of the witness tables. He noted that several people sat at the opposite table, chief among them were Vice Admiral Harkov and Captain Lafayette Nimoux. They wore their military dress uniforms and showed none of the signs of wear or fatigue Calvin would have expected. He wondered why they were here, and supposed that the Assembly had called an emergency session to uncover the mystery of the Andromeda’s disappearance.

  It wasn’t every day that one of the flagships, and one of the most powerful vessels in the entire Imperial war-machine, vanishes for weeks and then inexplicably resurfaces. So it only made sense that Harkov would be summoned. Nimoux’s presence was a little harder to understand, but Calvin guessed that the Assembly had asked him to attend in order to gain his insight. He was a trusted person here, and none of the political factions—no matter how diametrically opposed they were—had anything but respect for Nimoux. Though it did seem strange that Nimoux had been seated with Vice Admiral Harkov…

  “This isn’t going to be good for us,” whispered Kalila. “I can feel it.”

  Calvin too felt pessimistic and concerned, though he didn’t know why. So far there wasn’t anything so strange that it defied explanation, and he couldn’t think of any motives that would lead either Harkov or Nimoux to testify to things that would hurt Calvin’s investigation or Kalila’s influence in the Assembly. Perhaps this was merely a red herring to delay Calvin’s efforts and slow down his investigation. If so, it wouldn’t work; he wouldn’t let it. Even now his people were raiding Intel Wing’s secret prisons, making arrests, and—if the universe was kind—liberating Rafael.