The Phoenix Conspiracy

by Richard Sanders

  ***

  Calvin felt trapped in his own quarters—not just physically but psychologically also. He mulled over the situation, trying desperately to think of some new strategy he could implement. He thought about challenging his guard, now that Calvin’s arms were free, and he—like all Intel Wing agents—was proficient with a mixture of martial arts. But the armed guard was probably at least as experienced, probably even more so. And should Calvin manage to win that fight, what would that buy him? He had nowhere to go; he certainly couldn’t defeat all of Special Forces with his bare hands.

  Another thought he considered was that, should he be able to get to Shen, perhaps they could adjust the navigational software to trick the ship into auto-course-correcting its way to Abia while appearing to still be on course to Xerxes. But he didn’t get too excited about that idea since he had no access to Shen, no way for Shen to get inside engineering, and no reason to believe such an idea was even possible to implement.

  As much as he hated it, and blamed it, his impulse was to take some equarius. It always made everything seem better. It could force him to smile for absolutely no reason in even the worst situations … but all the pills had been seized—and probably for the best. His open safe was as barren as the real prison he was destined for. His weapons too, few that they’d been, were gone.

  It was all too frustrating, to the maximum degree, that this was happening to him, on his ship, right when they were so very, very close. Damn the fleet!

  He was surprised to hear the door open to his quarters and even more surprised to see who’d entered.

  “I told the guard I had to sweep your room for weapons,” said Captain Pellew.

  Calvin looked at him. His room had already been thoroughly cleaned out. “Why are you really here?”

  Pellew made sure the door was closed before he spoke. “I’m on your side.”

  Calvin felt his heart quicken.

  “A lot of us are still on your side, I think.”

  Calvin felt a surge of hope but at the same time a hint of suspicion. In his experience, nothing in life came that easily. “Why would you help me?” Calvin had served and bled alongside his shipmates, but he hardly knew any of the soldiers aboard. And certainly none of them owed him any favors.

  Pellew smiled. “The good of the Empire, right?”

  Calvin didn’t say anything.

  “Look, my reasons are my own. But I am offering you help, so I suggest you accept it. Otherwise, it may not be offered again.”

  Calvin nodded. Suspicious as he was, he couldn’t afford to be picky.

  “Then we need to figure out how to retake the ship,” said Calvin. “Before we get to Xerxes.”

  “Actually we’re on course to rendezvous with a flotilla of warships led by the Andromeda.”

  “That’s not good,” said Calvin. He wasn’t sure why those in command thought meeting the Andromeda was preferable to going to Xerxes, unless the Andromeda was closer. Making it all the more important for them to beat the clock. “How far out are they?”

  “I don’t know,” said Pellew. “Probably a few hours still. Maybe less.”

  Calvin nodded; that made sense. Especially if the Andromeda had been sent after them the minute he had declared his intention to go to Abia. “Okay then. How much of Special Forces will side with me if you’re behind me?”

  “Six guys. Only a fourth of Special Forces, but proven men all. Some of the best.”

  “I see,” said Calvin. He was grateful for the newfound help—if they really were on his side. “We have to regain control of the strategic points. First we confiscate all the tear gas, if any remains. Then we take the bridge, we can lock it down and keep only a skeleton force there. That way we can keep the majority of our people in engineering which is harder to defend. Obviously all of your men will need to be positioned there. Also, I think it’s best if we take the bridge and engineering simultaneously.”

  “Well the good news is that the tear gas is no longer a concern, there isn’t enough left to be of any kind of strategic use. But the bad news is that I don’t think a simultaneous invasion of the bridge and engineering will be possible, not without more people,” said Pellew. “We need to free your people or else recruit more sympathizers from the crew.”

  Calvin nodded. “Very well, we’ll come up with something. In the meantime you’d better get some extra weapons too. That way, should we get more help, we can arm people.”

  “I already have a guy on it.”

  “Good. And, if we can, I’d like to avoid causing fatalities. We’ll need nonlethal weapons. Hopefully that will be the major’s strategy too.”

  “It will be. The major is a by-the-book CO, and the book is very clear on this. Because the enemy combatants—that’s us—are Imperial citizens, we have to be taken-in as nonviolently as possible. If we don’t switch to lead ammo, they won’t either. They can’t.”

  The door whisked open again and in stepped Calvin’s door guard.

  “What are you doing here, Simms?” Pellew snapped. “You’re supposed to remain outside. Return to your post now, soldier!”

  “I’m unable, sir.”

  “Why?” Pellew asked.

  Simms remained silent.

  Calvin could think of only one explanation: someone higher up the chain than Pellew had given Simms contrary orders which he had to obey. Probably he’d reported in that Pellew was secretly visiting Calvin, and Simms had been sent, by the major, to see what it was about. Whatever the case may be, Simms had to be dealt with. Calvin made eye contact with Pellew, who seemed to understand.

  “Simms,” said Pellew. “You’re a good loyal man of the Empire, aren’t you?”

  “I am, sir.”

  “Then you want to do the right thing and defend it?” asked Pellew. “From threats inside and out?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you must realize that what is happening on this ship is very wrong, and that Calvin’s command must be restored. And as a good man of the Empire, you have to support him.” Pellew squared his shoulders, preparing for the man’s reaction—whatever it turned out to be.

  Simms tensed. “As a good man of the Empire, I must obey my orders.”

  “I respect that,” said Pellew. Then, in the blink of an eye, Pellew withdrew his stunner and took a swing at Simms—who blocked it with both arms, knocking it aside.

  Calvin bolted for Simms, and exchanged a series of grapples and blows with the man, keeping him from drawing his own stunner.

  Pellew came up from behind and put Simms into a chokehold, slowly increasing the pressure until Simms could no long breathe and passed out.

  “I tried to be reasonable,” said Pellew, bending over to retrieve Simms’s stunner and radio. He tossed them to Calvin then withdrew some thin cables from one of his cargo-pants pockets.

  “There’s no going back now,” said Calvin.

  “Had to be done,” Pellew said as he dragged Simms across the floor and began cable-tying him to Calvin’s desk. “The way I see it, we only have two choices. Fight or give up.”

  Calvin nodded. “Whatever our next move is, we’d better act quickly.”

  “I’ve already given my men orders. It’s time they execute them.” With that he clicked on the radio and spoke a command into it.

  No reply came, but Calvin thought that was probably deliberate. “So how do you and I factor into this plan?” Calvin asked as he followed Pellew out of Calvin’s quarters at a brisk jog.

  “We’re going to help take engineering.”