Chapter 3
The room Calvin had been given was about the same size as his quarters aboard the Nighthawk. Just large enough to have a bed, a desk, various drawers, and enough floor space for a pile of boxes. It was sparse and barren, with a small liquor cabinet as the only luxury. But since Calvin didn’t drink, it was just here to take up space in an already cramped room.
At his feet, and in piles on his bed, were all the effects from his quarters aboard the Nighthawk. Even the posters had been removed from the walls, the remains of which were in tatters. He was probably the only CO in the Empire who decorated his military quarters with posters of music artists and slick-looking ads for upcoming blockbusters. He liked the color and noise they filled his space with, and they reminded him of the lighter side of life. But, because of the ship’s scheduled cleaning, they’d all been removed and, in their condition, would never hang again. Luckily they were less than one Q apiece and would be easy to replace.
He shifted around his things, only unpacking the boxes that were on his bed. His better judgment knew he should unpack everything now and avoid taking a nap in order to adjust to Local Time. But, to Calvin, better judgment wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. And he knew he couldn’t be productive while tired. So, with a heave, he pushed the last box off the bed so he could sleep. It spilled open, and a lemon-shaped chargeball rolled out. He scooped it up, feeling the firm leather as he turned it in his hands. It was worn from casual play, and bore the white and crimson colors of the Camdale Cardinals.
He, Anand, and Miles had each been part of the so-called “miracle class” of 1212. The year when their rogue public school—from one of the dumpiest parts of Capital World—beat all the premiere universities in the Empire at both academics and the only sport the Empire seemed to care about: chargeball. And though he and his friends never attended a single game, it was still one more thing to be proud of. The rebel underdogs with the surprising—and never repeated—upset.
He smiled, thinking back on some of the “glory” days of just six years prior. From outlandish, and often unsuccessful, forays with girls to pranks and parties that, as often as not, ended on a low note, their academy years had brought them all together. And now, partly as a reward for his efforts on the Hadar Mission and partly because of good luck, they were still together. Calvin had been given the chance to handpick most of his crew once he’d taken command of the Nighthawk. He knew it wouldn’t last forever—transfers happened—but, for as long as they let him serve alongside his friends, he’d enjoy it.
Lying on his bed, he rotated the chargeball in his hands and stared up at the ceiling. His thoughts shifted to his recent encounter with Summers Presley.
After she had left him, he had tried to keep his eyes from following her. He hated arrogant women, especially the attractive kind who’d probably had everything handed to them on a silver platter. He was still irritated and wondering how he might have better handled the conversation.
He had a keen memory for images, and, as he had replayed the conversation over in his head, he could see her in his mind almost as clearly as a photograph. He paid attention to her body language—which often proved more honest than words—and he found himself feeling unsettled. Something about the encounter bothered him.
Yes, he didn’t like that it had been cold and unsuccessful, but, more important, she’d inadvertently given something away. Summers cared for Asari Raidan. For all her show of spite and ice, she couldn’t hide the fact that she felt betrayed by him personally and not just professionally. At one point or another, she’d had sincere feelings for him. What were they? Admiration? Friendship? Or was it romance?
Sadly Calvin hadn’t picked up on anything more. Summers had been too distracting with her flowing hair, eyes like deep green pools, luscious lips, teeth white and glossy, and a face that was both delicately crafted yet confident and strong. Her beauty just pit his body against his mind, making her incredibly difficult to analyze. Eventually he gave up, deciding she was probably not part of Raidan’s scheme to attack the Rotham ships—though her relationship with Raidan was definitely more than she’d pretended.
The chime broke his concentration.
“Come,” he said.
The door slid aside, and Anand stepped in, complete with stubble and messy brown hair that matched his skin but contrasted with his overly immaculate black uniform. In one hand he held a set of papers.
“Who dares disturb my slumber?” asked Calvin as he sat up. He tossed the chargeball to Anand who botched what would’ve been a neat one-handed catch.
Anand reached down to scoop up the ball.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Calvin. “The room’s a mess anyway.”
“It wouldn’t be you, if it wasn’t,” said Anand with a smile.
“Very funny.” Calvin rolled his eyes. “Is that what you’re here to do? Harass your superior? Keep him from his much-deserved nap?”
“Easy there, Cal. I’m the one who’s a full commander here.” Anand pointed to the gold bar on his lapel. “So I’m perfectly safe disturbing you and your much-undeserved nap, Lieutenant Commander.”
“You know, that’s the second time today someone’s reminded me of that. I should just never step off the ship again.… But don’t think just because we’re ashore that you get a free ride. The minute we’re back, I’ll have you on continuous watch for days,” said Calvin. “And this big vacation won’t make me forget it either. I’ll stew over it the whole time. I take my naps very seriously, you know.”
Anand laughed, but there was a touch of sadness in his laughter, and, when he stopped, his face became pensive. “Actually that’s why I’m here. I’m not going back aboard the Nighthawk.”
“What are you talking about?” Calvin stood up, and Anand handed him the papers.
“I’ve been given command of the Phoenix, effective immediately. It seems the Imperial Fleet isn’t very confident Captain Raidan will return to duty anytime soon. And they want an outsider to do a full audit of the ship and crew.”
“And that’s you?”
Anand nodded. “Who better than Intel Wing?”
Calvin thumbed through the documents, which were all very official, complete with digital seal. “Why wasn’t I notified by the Imperial Fleet about this?”
“After I found out, I asked the vice admiral to let me be the one to tell you.”
“Well … that was nice they let you. Did they say who my new XO is?”
“No. I bet they’re waiting for the trial to be over before announcing it.”
“Yeah, right. I give it nine-to-one on that they haven’t even decided yet.”
Anand laughed. “That’s the Imperial Fleet for you.”
“Well …” Calvin wasn’t sure what to say. He felt a little hurt but masked his disappointment. “Your own command …” He floundered for words. “That’s got to be exciting.”
“I’m ecstatic,” said Anand, perhaps more eagerly than he’d intended. “Not that I won’t miss the Nighthawk or anything.”
Calvin forced a chuckle. “Yeah, right. You’ll forget all about us the minute you sit in that big chair and hear someone call you captain for the first time.”
Anand shrugged.
“Well, I guess we’d better get it over with.” Calvin signed the papers and handed them back.
Anand then read the orders of detachment. “Commander Anand Datar, you are ordered to take command of the ISS Phoenix immediately, and all current assignments are hereby dissolved.” He continued until he’d read the entire address.
“I relieve you as Executive Officer of the IWS Nighthawk,” said Calvin.
“I stand relieved.” Anand saluted.
“Well, Anand. You’ll be missed. It was an honor serving with you. Do me a favor and try to keep yourself alive out there. The galaxy is a fearsome place.”
Anand laughed. “You’re the one I’m worried about. How many times did I save the Nighthawk when you tried to crash it into a planet or something?”
/> “At least a hundred.”
“More like a thousand.”
Calvin smirked. “All right, Anand, see you around the stars.”
“Take care, Calvin.” He nodded and left.
Once the door whisked shut, Calvin shook his head. He’d just lost an excellent officer. And as a CO who put a lot of value in his XO’s capabilities, he hoped his next one would be as good.
The Phoenix Conspiracy Page 4
