The Phoenix Conspiracy

by Richard Sanders

Chapter 29

  It wasn’t easy from her restricted position, but, with a little struggle, Summers managed to input the command codes and activate the beacon. It blinked once, then made no sign it was on. Just like it was supposed to.

  “The silent beacon is activated,” she whispered to Pellew.

  He said nothing, and they waited, smashed against each other in the cramped container for what felt like forever. With their two bodies, Pellew’s carbine, the beacon, two handguns, and her submachine gun, there was literally no wiggle room. She could tell Pellew—at least partially—enjoyed being squished against her, but she could have done without the experience. At least she was closer to the tiny vent that provided them with fresh air.

  “You’re nervous,” Pellew whispered.

  She shushed him quietly. But she was nervous. The fate of the crew depended on them, and they were surrounded by hundreds of hostiles.

  Not to mention her confusion and mixture of emotions regarding recent events. What the hell were the Rotham doing here? Was Calvin onto something after all? Had he been right? No … he’d flown the ship right into this mess; he didn’t know what he was doing … but, still, he had discovered something. She tried not to think about it.

  Every time a noise filtered in, regardless of how quiet or muffled, her heart lurched at the fear that their cover had been blown. If that happened … she didn’t know what she’d do. Or could do. She forced herself to be calm, or tried to, by reminding herself the Nighthawk’s blueprints were so classified that, even when she’d been made executive officer, she wasn’t privy to that information until she was actually aboard the ship. So, until the Rotham mined the ship’s hard drives and decoded everything, they couldn’t possibly know about these containers.

  But then another thought surfaced. The Nighthawk could now be hidden somewhere in the belly of the beast. That Rotham warship was certainly big enough to hangar the smaller Imperial vessel.

  “We could just wait here for the Fifth Fleet,” whispered Pellew.

  She didn’t like that idea. “I don’t know if the beacon can be detected through both the Nighthawk’s and the Rotham ship’s hulls.”

  “I suppose you’re right. It’s too bad, really. It’s kind of nice here.”

  She grimaced. “Think it’s clear?” she asked. They hadn’t heard anything for a while now.

  Pellew listened. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Very stealthily they opened the container and crawled into the narrow corridor of deck three. No one was around. They affixed silencers to their weapons, and Summers followed Pellew’s lead.

  They moved as fast as they could, sneaking around corners, through hallways, and down ladders, pausing whenever they heard voices until the coast was clear again. Eventually they reached a lowermost airlock.

  “I doubt anyone’s looking at this one,” said Pellew, unlocking it. “Cover me.”

  Summers held her submachine gun at the ready and kept her eyes vigilant. The beacon, which she carried by its handle in her other hand, was beginning to feel heavy, but she knew she couldn’t let that distract her.

  He pulled open the metal fixture and poked out his head. “Looks clear. Let’s move.” He climbed down an external ladder, and Summers covered him from above. Once he reached the main floor of the Rotham hangar, she dropped the beacon to him and climbed down herself. When she reached the ground, he returned it, and she looked up.

  The hangar was enormous, even by heavy cruiser standards. At full capacity it could fit a large number of fighters or shuttles. For now though, only the Nighthawk and a few fighters were on the flight deck. Summers could hear a half dozen or so Rotham voices out of sight, presumably working; they didn’t sound alarmed.

  Pellew moved ahead and assessed their surroundings. He flashed her the hand signals for three enemies to the left, clear on the right, follow me. She did. They snuck around stacked crates and various equipment.

  It was an annoying process, forcing them to backtrack at times, and it took several minutes. But they managed to escape the hangar into a corridor without incident. It was empty, and they picked up the pace. Summers wasn’t sure where they were going but knew, ultimately, they were looking for a hiding place for themselves and the beacon.

  “Over here,” said Pellew, waving his rifle toward a nook. It was a stubby dead end of a hallway, complete with a ventilation grate, some crates, and a computer terminal. She followed closely.

  As they approached, two Rotham crew members could be seen at work. One popped up from behind the computer console, some wires in his hands, and the other came around a stack of crates, carrying something she didn’t recognize.

  Pellew steadied his rifle and took two quick shots, dropping both aliens. Summers didn’t fire, knowing Pellew with his carbine was much more accurate than she would be with her one-handed submachine gun.

  “Cover me while I move the bodies out of sight,” said Pellew.

  He set down his carbine and dragged the first corpse behind a crate, leaving behind a mess of blood.

  Summers had seen her share of blood, but Rotham blood looked strange. “We’ll have to do something about that blood,” she said.

  “Move a crate on top of it,” said Pellew, now dragging the second body out of view.

  Summers kept an eye on the corridor and followed his command, moving one of the smaller crates. Pellew then adjusted the computer table so its shadow covered the rest of the blood.

  “So I guess we hold out here?” asked Summers, retrieving the beacon.

  “No, let’s stash the beacon in one of these crates,” said Pellew, “and then rescue our crew.”

  Summers felt uneasy about that plan. “The beacon is more important. We have to protect it.”

  “We can’t protect it if they find us here,” said Pellew. “They’ll kill us eventually. All we can do is hide it. Staying to guard it will only draw attention to this area—and it.”

  She knew he was right but didn’t want him to be. “What about the dead bodies? That’ll draw attention to this spot too. Maybe we should find a new spot.”

  “I don’t think we’ll find anything better. We’re lucky we found this spot. The longer we delay, the more time we carry around the beacon, the more likely they’ll find us—and it—and everything will be over.”

  “Fine, then what do you propose we do?”

  “Leave it and attack the detention center. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but my men are locked up in there, and I have to do something.”

  “We don’t even know where that is.”

  “Yeah, we do. We passed the door on our way here. Didn’t you notice it?”

  “No. All these Rotham halls and doors look the same to me.”

  “There are subtle differences,” said Pellew. “But it helps if you can read and speak Rotham, like I do.”

  She should have realized that by now. The way he so easily reacted to the Rotham’s movements as they snuck through the hangar. Rotham fluency wasn’t as uncommon as most people suspected; the academy she had attended, for instance, taught it at all levels. But she hadn’t made that her focus and felt in the dark now. “Have you heard anything interesting?” she asked. “Maybe what they’re doing here, and what their plans are?”

  “No. The people in the hangar weren’t talking about any of that. But I do know where the crew is being held. And I’m sure we could take the guards by surprise.”

  “We could die.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a crooked grin. “And if no one helps them, they could die. And for that matter, if we hang around here, we could die. And even if we succeed at everything, we’re all going to die anyway. Eventually. Don’t you want to at least die doing something meaningful?”