The Phoenix Project

by Kris Powers

  Elliot saw her huddled against the bulkhead. He didn’t look at her in contempt and he didn’t feel any anger towards her.

  He felt pity.

  Elliot stood up on shaking legs and walked to her position next to the wall. He sat down next to her huddled body.

  “It’s okay Nadine. I understand now.”

  “Go away,” she whimpered.

  “Come here,” he said and took her by the waist.

  “Just get out.”

  “No. Come here,” he said and brought her body next to his. She rested her head against his chest and wept. He held her, both of them sitting on the light cream colored carpet in a small nook of the dining area. He closed his eyes as Nadine leaned against him in grief.

  “How can you live like this?”

  “Had the Everlasting not fixed His canon ‘gainst self—slaughter,” she quoted.

  “It’s more than that,” he said and wiped tears from her cheek, “or do your defend ancient deities?”

  “I thought of dying many times, but it wouldn’t help any of them, and it would be the easy way out for me.”

  “So you live on in misery?”

  “There are many rooms in a sub—basement of MERA. They are filled with people who do nothing but stare at the walls. Many of them are my victims. If they have to live life that way, so will I.”

  “As an empty shell?” Elliot asked.

  “That’s all I deserve.”

  “You did what you had to, what you were ordered to do.”

  “Couldn’t I have done something more? I should have told them to go to hell. Why didn’t I?” she asked and looked for the answers in his face.

  “You knew they would’ve found someone else to replace you.”

  “Maybe, I just wish I could have done more. They never deserved what I did to them.”

  “No, but you grieved because you never wanted that. I can see that now,” he said.

  “That’s not enough.”

  “Then live for them and improve other’s lives.”

  “In penance?” she asked. Nadine smiled up to his forgiving face.

  “Make up for what you’ve done then.”

  “I can never accomplish that,” she said.

  “You can try.”

  “Stop trying to make me feel better.”

  “Yes Ma’am,” he said, and glanced at the table. “Do you still want to have dinner?”

  She let out a small laugh and looked down to his lap. “I am sorry, Elliot. I didn’t mean to do that. You just got me so angry.”

  “Yeah, I do that to a lot of people. Come on, let’s have some steak.”

  “I actually like roast more,” she said.

  “Okay, let’s have some roast.”

  “And mashed potatoes?”

  “With gravy,” he said and pulled her to her feet.

  They righted Elliot’s chair and he went to the kitchen to order the meal. Nadine walked to the bathroom, off the bedroom, and fixed her puffy face. She heard him rummaging through the kitchen, gathering together the meal from the dispenser, and smiled despite the reality of her situation. She felt like a boyfriend was making a peace offering after a fight. Nadine allowed herself the fantasy and finished applying her make—up. She then returned to the dining area.

  Elliot set down a beef roast with a hefty bowl of mashed potatoes covered in gravy as she sat down at the table.

  “Feel better?”

  “A little,” she replied. Elliot took the serving spoon from the bowl and put a small spoonful onto her plate. “Don’t hold back!”

  Elliot grinned and doubled the portion on her plate.

  “You know you remind me of,” he said and stopped his divulgence.

  “Of who?”

  “Lily used to love mashed potatoes,” he said.

  “Well she’s in good company. Who is she, anyway?”

  “She was my wife.”

  “Are you divorced?”

  “No, she passed away.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was ten years ago. It’s okay. Would you like some roast beef with your potatoes?”

  “Yeah, I suppose I should,” she said and realized there was a peak of mashed potatoes on her plate. He smiled and placed a cut of roast beef on her plate. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said and served himself, placing a few rather large cuts of beef on his own plate.

  “Would you like some potatoes with your beef?”

  “Is there any left?”

  “Shut up,” she said with a smile and spooned a few dollops onto his plate.

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  “You are charming, Elliot.”

  “Even for a Defensive?”

  “Even for a Defensive. Am I such an evil Aggressive?”

  “No, you’re far more human than I would’ve ever believed.”

  “More Alliance propaganda.” Nadine took another forkful of gravy laden mashed potatoes and brought it to her mouth.

  “I bet you thought all Defensives were just as evil.”

  “Oh yeah, they tell us you’re all wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

  “Really? They tell us you’re all demonic hunters out to destroy us,” he said.

  “Are my eyes glowing red?”

  “They’re really white aren’t they?”

  “Yes, our biggest giveaway,” she admitted and gorged herself with more of the creamy mashed potatoes. “Aren’t yours completely black?”

  “The irises, yes.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Why are your irises white?”

  “Can I see them?” Nadine asked, fiddling with her fork.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve never seen how you really look. Don’t worry, I’m not going to shove you out into the hallway,” she said.

  “Alright, do you have any contact cases?”

  “I always keep a few. If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she said with a smile and swallowed a piece of roast beef.

  “Get them,” he said and refilled their brandies.

  She exited the dining area and returned a minute later with two contact lens cases and a bottle of lens fluid.

  “Ready?”

  “To Aggressives,” he said and emptied his glass.

  “To Defensives,” she replied and emptied hers.

  They both removed the lenses from their eyes and set them in the cases. Elliot and Nadine looked at each other’s uncovered eyes. Nadine’s short dark hair only accentuated the white irises that nearly blended with the rest of her eyes. Elliot’s liquid black irises gave him an other—worldly elegance.

  “Holy!”

  “Same to you,” he said, wide eyed.

  “You look so different!”

  “So do you!”

  “I know I look disconcerting,” she said.

  “I bet I do too.”

  “No, you look handsome.”

  “You look so alien,” he replied.

  “Like a Ferine?”

  “No, exotic.”

  “Well, thank—you,” she said with a hint of modesty.

  “How do you conceal yourself in the fleet?” he asked while he chewed on a piece of roast beef.

  “Probably the same as you do. Some of my history was manufactured and I wear the contacts.”

  “But you would have a great deal of contact with MERA. Wouldn’t that arouse suspicion?” he asked.

  “I started at the academy and had little contact with MERA officially. I conveniently became an adjutant to a MERA government official when I graduated. After that, my frequent communication with them was easily understandable to everyone. You?”

  “Pretty different for me. I had the same experience with the academy, but was supposedly very “religious”. So I was in contact with them twice or even three times a week as part of the congregation and received my lessons then. To distance myself and give my independence more credence, I “left” the congregation over a decade ago. The Cooperative contacts me
occasionally in repeated attempts to repatriate me.”

  “That’s when they give you orders?” she asked.

  “We’re more decentralized than that. I’m updated with current news. Occasionally, they’ll request that I look into something.”

  “What if you refuse a request? What do they do then?” Nadine asked.

  “Everything they have ever requested has been reasonable. I’m usually curious enough about the situation that I’d look into it anyway.”

  “Even if they hadn’t asked?”

  “Not always. If I were to refuse, I imagine they’d make a lot less requests of me. I want to do it though, why? Can you refuse an order from MERA?”

  “I could.”

  “But?”

  “I wouldn’t go over well,” Nadine replied.

  “How so?”

  “It just wouldn’t. Let’s change the subject,” she said.

  “Okay. How do you feel showing your real appearance to a Defensive?” he asked and sipped at his brandy.

  “Oddly at ease, I feel like I’m not hiding myself from the enemy,” she said and sputtered at her slip of the tongue. “I didn’t mean—”

  “No,” Elliot chuckled, “we have been enemies for a long time. You were just speaking the truth.”

  “I hope that we can change that,” she said while she ate the last bite of her meal.

  “I hope to see you more often. More brandy?”

  “Sure,” she said and pushed her empty glass towards the bottle.

  Maria sat on the witness stand, boiling from the heat of the day and cross—examination. After two days of establishing events leading up to the trial, they had finally put her on the stand this morning. Her single eye glowered at the prosecution attorney.

  “You did give the order to take your ship into enemy lines?”

  “Yes,” she replied as the courtroom lights glittered off of her face plate.

  “Could you have won the battle by means other than to plunge the aforementioned Excalibur into danger?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Please answer the question: Yes or no? Was it possible?”

  “Yes, but,”

  “Thank—you. Now your plan of action was to charge enemy lines and destroy the three Coalition carriers before they could launch their full compliments of fighters, correct?” he asked. His short dirty blond hair looked as though it had been plastered to his head.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Tell me, did you think of escape for your ship and crew? Was that part of you plan?”

  “Of course, all carriers have weaker shields that can be penetrated from a moderate distance with our primary cannons. Once that was accomplished, we would turn and head back to our lines.”

  “Couldn’t you have fired from behind our lines?”

  “Yes but,”

  “Thank—you. Now,”

  “Objection: Calls for speculation!” her attorney interrupted. “Commander Myers is well aware of a plasma cannon’s maximum effective range.”

  “Sustained,” the judge said.

  “Fine. Admiral Peterson, how confident were you that you would make it back to our lines if your plan succeeded?”

  “Very confident.”

  “You were one hundred percent sure?”

  “Of course not, there aren’t any guarantees in matters like this,” she replied.

  “Then why take your ship in?”

  “Nothing can be certain, Commander, as you would know if you were ever on the field of battle. There is always some risk involved,” she replied.

  “Clearly more than you realized.”

  “Objection: Argumentative!” her lawyer said.

  “Withdrawn. Admiral Peterson, once you engaged the fleet, you used a torpedo spread from supporting ships to mask your approach?”

  “That’s correct,” she replied.

  “Why not use them again to cover you on the way back?”

  “By then, I was beyond their range.”

  “Yes, why did you go beyond their range?” the prosecution asked.

  “We were unable to destroy the third target,” she replied.

  “And why is that?”

  “A frigate managed to intercept the shot.”

  “What exactly was your order at that time?”

  “I ordered my weapon’s officer to divert all remaining power to the shields and set weapons to automatic.”

  “And then?”

  “I gave the order to abandon ship,” she replied.

  “Because you knew that the ship would not make it back to our lines.”

  “Yes, I would not sacrifice my crew,” Maria said.

  “Very courageous.”

  “Objection: Badgering!” her lawyer exclaimed.

  “Sustained. Commander Myers, please keep to the facts,” the white haired judge ruled.

  “Yes, Sir. Once your crew left the ship, what did you do?”

  “I took the helm.”

  “You set a course for where?” Myers asked.

  “I set a course for the carrier but the course would not lock. I had to guide her in manually.”

  “You had already decided to ram the ship?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “As I said before, there was no other way,” Maria replied.

  “What about the primaries?”

  “They had another four minutes before they recharged.”

  “Why not wait?”

  “The rest of their fleet was already closing in to block our target.”

  “You could have taken your ship in and used secondary weapons. Simulations have shown the last carrier’s shields would have failed in less than two minutes,” Myers said.

  “Too long. The Excalibur was already taking heavy damage.”

  “Of course. What did you do next?” Myers asked.

  “Once the computer could auto—navigate, I took the emergency escape pod in the command chair.”

  “Doesn’t the captain go down with the ship?”

  “That axiom hasn’t been observed in centuries,” she said.

  “Not a traditionalist, Admiral?”

  “That depends on your terminology,” she replied.

  “Your plan was, forgive me, untraditional.”

  “That’s why it worked.”

  “Why wouldn’t a more conventional battle strategy have worked?”

  “They planned to surround us using a very old battle plan,” she replied.

  “Why not just take the bait?”

  “I wanted to win the battle, not lose it.”

  “Oh? Holding back and not falling for the ruse you so easily saw would have lost you the battle?”

  “Not necessarily, but knowing their trap,”

  “Thank—you Admiral,” he said and crossed back to his table.

  “I’m not finished.”

  “Yes, you are.” He fiddled with a few links lying there before he continued. “Did you consider other ways of approaching this conflict?”

  “No. Any other decision would have lost the battle,” she replied.

  “One hundred percent sure?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Admiral, you used the command capsule to escape. There was a small chance the automatic navigation may have failed,” Myers said.

  “A miniscule chance,” Maria admitted.

  “But there was a chance. Nothing is one hundred percent sure, you have said so yourself.”

  “I believed the chances were negligible.”

  “So you abandoned the ship with your crew?”

  “Yes,” Maria replied.

  “Why not be a martyr? By prematurely abandoning your ship, you ensured you could bask in everyone’s adulation.”

  “Objection: Argumentative!” her lawyer exclaimed.

  “I did not prematurely abandon my ship!” Maria replied. “I have the scars to prove it.”

  “All the better. You have the battle trophies to show your colleagues.”r />
  “Objection: Badgering!”

  “That’s enough, Commander,” the judge said.

  Commander Myers smiled briefly at Maria and returned to his seat. “I have no further questions for this witness, but I would like to reserve the right to recall her.”

  “Granted.”

  “Redirect, Your Honor?” her lawyer asked, rising from his chair.

  “Objection!” the prosecutor exclaimed.

  “It is permitted.”

  “I decide whether or not it’s permitted,” the judge said.

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Go ahead Commander Dixon, but remember that you have your limits.”

  “Would you say you were desperate to win the battle when the enemy frigate intercepted the shot?” Dixon asked Maria.

  “No, I wanted to ensure the safety of our forces.”

  “When you made the decision to cross into enemy lines, was that a snap decision?”

  “No,” she replied.

  “There was little time.”

  “Yes, but my experience allowed me to make that decision.”

  “You graduated from the academy at twenty—one?” Ben Dixon asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And how many years have you been a member of the fleet?”

  “Twenty—seven.”

  “Did your ego have anything to do with this situation?”

  “Absolutely not,” she replied.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “My thoughts when I made the decision were for the safety of my entire battle group. Any other decision could have cost lives,” she said.

  “Was this part of your strategy?”

  “It came down to numbers. Zero lives and one ship lost verses many lives and many ships lost,” Maria replied.

  “Thank—you, Admiral. We did win the battle, didn’t we?”

  “Yes we did,” she said with pride.

  “What were the results of the battle?”

  “We lost one ship: the Excalibur. They lost forty—seven warships,” Maria replied.

  “Out of how many?”

  “One hundred and twenty.”

  “The odds against you were what?”

  Now Maria knew why he had left the numbers out of her earlier testimony: This gave her the final word. “Three to one.”

  “Thank—you Admiral. No further questions Your Honor,” Dixon said.

  “Redirect, Commander?” the judge asked of Myers.

  “Not at this time, Your Honor,” Myers replied.

  “Testimony is complete for today. We will adjourn for the day and convene again at nine hundred hours tomorrow,” the judge said and banged his wooden gavel. He stood up, as did the rest of the courtroom. Maria returned to the defense counsel’s desk and waited for the judge to leave.