The Phoenix Rising Read online

  “Recommendation,” said Summers.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “If we try to run the blockade—”

  “Running the blockade is suicide,” interrupted Miles.

  Summers talked over him, sounding annoyed. “If we fly between the ISS Spirit and the ISS Phoenix, we could outmaneuver the slower Phoenix and possibly only take fire from the Spirit before we escape.”

  “If we move between any two ships, they’ll both intercept us together—not even Sarah can get around that,” said Miles.

  “If these particular ships both move to intercept us,” said Summers, “they risk collision.”

  “It’s true,” said Cassidy. “Only one ship will be able to block us. The likeliest candidate is the faster Spirit. And our computer estimates a one in two chance that the Spirit would fail to disable our alteredspace system before we jump.”

  Considering the alternatives were death or captivity, a one-in-two chance sounded pretty good. “Do it.”

  “Winters,” said Summers. “Execute contingency plan. Escape vector one alpha.”

  “Aye, aye,” said Sarah. Sweat glistened on her forehead and she looked more stressed than Calvin had ever seen her, but in typical Sarah fashion she remained graceful and didn’t let the pressure affect her performance of her duties.

  Calvin watched the 3d display as the Nighthawk soared, aiming for the gap between the Phoenix and the Spirit. This is it.

  ***

  Nimoux stood up as he watched the 3d display—he could tell what they were doing. The Nighthawk was attempting to run the blockade, maneuvering between the Spirit and the Phoenix. It wouldn’t work.

  “Order the Spirit and the Phoenix to intercept the Nighthawk,” said Nimoux. “Do not let it slip through our formation.”

  “Sir, if both ships move to intercept they risk collision,” said the ops officer. So that was what Calvin was hoping... a very desperate tactic indeed. No matter, nothing a little patience couldn’t handle.

  “Order the Spirit to intercept,” said Nimoux. “Tell the Phoenix and the rest of the squadron to hold position.” It was tempting to throw everything at the Nighthawk, and would probably work, but was a less sure plan than the more restrained procedure of blocking the ship’s escape and then slowly and methodically lassoing it in.

  “Aye, sir,” said the pilot. He relayed the order.

  Nimoux kept a sharp eye on the 3d display. Watching the blip that was the Spirit mobilize to intercept the blip that was Nighthawk. Unexpectedly, the Phoenix mobilized too. “What the—?“

  “Sir, the Phoenix does not acknowledge the order,” said the pilot.

  Nimoux’s first thought was that the Phoenix hadn’t heard them. “Repeat order.”

  “The Phoenix is not complying,” said the pilot.

  “I confirm that,” said the ops officer. “The Phoenix is on an intercept course with the Nighthawk.”

  “Communications malfunction?” asked Nimoux.

  “No, sir,” said the ops officer. Communication was received.

  “It’s like... they’re just ignoring us,” said the pilot.

  ***

  “Both the ISS Spirit and the ISS Phoenix have mobilized to intercept,” said Cassidy.

  “Those idiots, they’ll crash into each other,” said Miles. “Bully for us, I guess.”

  Calvin frowned and watched the blips move on the 3d display. Something was wrong. He knew Nimoux better than that. He’d never order his ships onto a collision course with each other—especially when such action was unnecessary to contain the Nighthawk. The Spirit alone had decent chances of stopping them. Was Anand putting himself in danger to assist Calvin? Or was there something else going on? Something up Nimoux’s sleeve?

  “Stay the course,” said Calvin.

  “Aye, sir,” said Sarah.

  “Weapons range in ten seconds,” said Cassidy.

  “All weapons standing by,” said Miles. “Ready to intercept incoming flak. Shields at maximum.”

  “Let’s see if that’s even necessary,” said Summers.

  All free eyes were glued to the 3d display as the Spirit and the Phoenix approached each other rapidly. Should the two meet it would be a spectacular collision that would, at the very least, destroy the Spirit and do severe damage to the Phoenix. It would also be the sloppiest navy incident Calvin had ever witnessed...

  “The Spirit and Phoenix are both bringing weapons to bear,” reported Cassidy. “Proximity to each other... fifty kilometers and closing.”

  When the ships were literally on top of each other on the 3d display—only about a kilometer apart—the Spirit aborted and gave way to the Phoenix, which flew onward, unflinching. Clearly willing to smash through its ally if necessary. A move Calvin did not understand. He wondered if there was a breakdown in the squadron’s command chain—perhaps the different captains coming to different conclusions on how best to deal with the Nighthawk. Even if that was so, Nimoux undoubtedly had the overall command. So all Calvin could think was that this was Anand’s strange way of helping him. If so, he was lucky his best friend had been somewhat sloppily assigned to the taskforce meant to bring him in.

  “The Phoenix has blocked our escape vector,” reported Sarah.

  “We will have to adjust course,” said Cassidy.

  “The Phoenix is hailing us,” said Sarah.

  “All stop,” said Calvin. “Cassidy, calculate the best trajectory for escape and forward that vector to Sarah’s console. Sarah, open the channel. Let’s see what the Phoenix has to say.” Calvin felt a rush of excitement. A feeling that only increased when he heard Anand’s voice come over the speaker.

  “Well, well, look who it is,” said his former XO, schoolmate, and long-time friend.

  “Hello, Commander Datar,” said Calvin. He resisted vocalizing how happy he was to speak with Anand again—lest he give away any pretense his friend was still trying to maintain about working for the Fleet—but Calvin couldn’t resist smiling and suddenly he remembered how much he missed having Anand aboard the Nighthawk.

  “If it isn’t Calvin Double-Cross...” said Anand.

  “What?” asked Calvin, confused.

  “I swore I’d hunt you down. Even if I had to trawl every cubic inch of deep space, I’d have my revenge on you. And now here you are. Right in my crosshairs.”

  Calvin was genuinely baffled. Was this part of Anand’s cover? Was this his way of convincing Nimoux and the rest of the squadron that he was on their side? A dark feeling came over him. Something was definitely wrong.

  “The Phoenix has locked weapons on us,” said Miles.

  “What are you talking about, Anand?” asked Calvin, anxiety fast returning.

  “As if you don’t know,” said Anand, a dark texture in his voice. “My family only ever showed you kindness, Calvin. And now they’re dead because of you.”

  A wave of shock rippled through him, even stronger than his confusion at the whole situation. Was this some sort of trick? Or were Anand’s sister and parents actually deceased? They lived a quaint but happy life on Capital World—what could possibly have happened to them? And why would Anand think Calvin was responsible?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Calvin. “But I assure you, I would never hurt your family.” When he’d visited them from time to time, they’d treated him like a blood relative, always welcoming. If they were gone, Calvin would grieve their loss.

  “Liar,” said Anand. “I’ve seen the proof. I know what happened. Don’t pretend otherwise. You are a sick, evil human being, Calvin. And I’m sending you to the gods. You’ll see my family soon. And then you can explain to their faces why you sold them out.”

  “Anand, you know me! We’ve been friends for years. You know I would never—”

  “Correction. I knew you. Or thought I did...”

  “Anand... I haven’t even been to Capital World since we parted ways on Praxis. I couldn’t possibly have—”

  “Goodbye, Ca
lvin.”

  The channel closed.

  “What the hell was that?” asked Miles. He turned and gave Calvin a very confused look. Calvin didn’t know how to react. He was stunned. Emotionally he felt a mixture of fear—knowing that danger was all around them—and deep anguish. How could he have lost such a dear friend? And so severely? There had to be a way to make it right... to make Anand realize the truth.

  “The Desert Eagle and the Rhea are again closing in,” said Cassidy.

  “The Phoenix is firing on us!” said Miles.

  Their shields absorbed a massive charge of energy that crashed into them. Lighting up the window momentarily.

  “Incoming missiles.” Miles hands flew over his controls as he fired the Nighthawk’s guns to intercept the newest threat.

  “Defensive fire only,” said Calvin. “Sarah, evasive maneuvers. Cassidy, get us a vector out of here.”

  “I’m trying,” she said. “The Phoenix isn’t letting us past.”

  Both ships accelerated and began an intense series of maneuvers. The Nighthawk was the more agile ship, but the Phoenix successfully used its superior firepower to deny the Nighthawk access to its flanks. Preventing Sarah from getting around.

  Summers ran over to the defense console and immediately began coaching Miles on the Phoenix’s weak points. Her time on the ship was proving valuable and, amazingly, Miles didn’t seem to resent her assistance.

  “Shields at seventy percent,” said Miles. Another powerful blast of energy slammed into them. The ships flew parallel and the Phoenix let loose a full broadside from its main guns. Slowly tearing away at the Nighthawk’s armor.

  “We can’t take much of that,” said Sarah.

  “Return fire. See if you can drive them off,” said Calvin. “But hold the main battery ready for any incoming missiles.”

  “Aye, aye,” said Miles.

  “Here,” Summers pointed at one of Miles’ screens. “The Phoenix’s shields are weakest at the bow.”

  “The Phoenix is firing all its weapons,” reported Cassidy. “Including an incoming spread of... six missiles per fifteen seconds.”

  “They’ve left themselves open!” said Miles. “If we hit them with all we’ve got, they can’t intercept our missiles!”

  “It’s true, we can destroy their bridge. Stand by to fire all missiles,” said Summers.

  “Belay that order,” said Calvin, to everyone’s surprise. “Defensive fire only.” He knew that destroying the Phoenix’s bridge was probably their best chance, and it was clear the Phoenix was pulling no punches with them—and would eventually overpower them, probably before the Desert Eagle and the Rhea were in range to assist with the Nighthawk’s demise—but Calvin thought of Anand burning to death on his own bridge, by Calvin’s hand, and couldn’t bear it. All he could think about was the times they’d had together, good and bad. The shared memories. Was it really going to end like this? He couldn’t kill his best friend... There had to be a way to fix all of this. To make him see reason.

  “Calvin,” Summers spun to face him. Her words were stern. “If we don’t fire on the Phoenix now, we’re not going to get out of this system alive.”

  “I said no,” said Calvin. “Defensive fire only! Sarah, get us the hell around that ship.”

  “I’m trying!”

  “Cassidy, I want that escape vector now!”

  ***

  “Weapons range in thirty seconds,” reported the defense officer.

  Nimoux stood with his hands behind his back and watched the 3d display as the firefight between the Phoenix and the Nighthawk raged. It wouldn’t last much longer—the Phoenix was the far deadlier warship—and the Nighthawk seemed only interested in self-defense. It intentionally let go of opportunities to fire heavy ordnance at the Phoenix, even though the larger ship showed no such restraint.

  “Order the Phoenix to restrict fire to the Nighthawk’s propulsion systems,” said Nimoux.

  His pilot relayed the order but no one was surprised when no response came from the Phoenix. “They still do not acknowledge, sir.”

  Nimoux felt himself flush with anger but he kept his cool. He tried to focus on his center and knew that he had to keep up supreme discipline. Becoming emotional—like the Phoenix’s Commander—would help nothing.

  They’d all heard the bizarre message Commander Datar had broadcast to the Nighthawk. And now Nimoux understood that Datar was emotionally compromised, and seemed hell-bent on avenging himself upon Calvin, but that was no excuse for his behavior.

  The Nighthawk wasn’t going anywhere, it couldn’t get past the Phoenix and could easily be captured. It would be a mistake not to capture it. But Nimoux worried that the Phoenix would destroy the Nighthawk anyway. Lethal force against the ship was authorized by the mission, but in this situation wholly unnecessary. Nimoux knew things were fast spiraling out of control.

  “The Nighthawk’s shields are down,” said the ops officer.

  “Open a channel to the Phoenix,” said Nimoux.

  “Channel open.”

  “Commander Datar, desist fire,” said Nimoux in a tone that was as serious as steel. “I repeat, hold your fire! If you do not comply, the consequences will be severe.”

  No response came. And the Phoenix did not hold its fire.

  ***

  “Shields are offline,” said Summers. “Hull integrity diminishing rapidly. Most of our portside armor has been destroyed.”

  “Divert power to the shields, take it from life support if you have to!” shouted Calvin.

  “Unable,” said Cassidy. “The generators are destroyed.” An alert went off on her screen and she glanced down. “Incoming seeker missiles. Impact in twenty seconds.”

  “We’re dead!” said Miles. “The energy weapon is drained, all our guns are overheated... there’s nothing I can do. This is the big one...” He looked back at Calvin with tears streaking his swollen reddened face. Summers made some adjustments to the defense console—no doubt pleading with the guns to come back online, but Calvin could tell by the sour look on her face that it was pointless.

  “Sarah!” said Calvin, realizing she was their last hope. “Dodge those missiles!”

  “I can’t,” said Sarah. “They’re seeker missiles.” She wrestled firmly with the controls but a look of resignation covered her face. “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “Cassidy! Escape vector. Now!” Calvin shouted.

  Cassidy looked as flustered as anyone else. “Calculation failed. The Phoenix’s proximity is preventing any jump.”

  And then Calvin realized he’d killed them all. He’d held his fire—had been unable to terminate his friend—and now he and all the souls on his ship were lost. He’d failed in his most important duty as a commanding officer. It was over. He took in a deep breath and tried to embrace the inevitable. Perhaps in death he would see Christine again...

  ***

  “Sir, the Phoenix has fired a volley of seeker missiles,” reported the ops officer. “The Nighthawk is trying to evade.”

  “Evade?” asked Nimoux. That was the most desperate move Calvin could make.

  “Yes, sir. Its guns have overheated. Missile interception not possible.”

  “Can they dodge the missiles?” asked Nimoux.

  “No, sir. The evasive tactic is futile. Impact in thirty seconds.”

  “The payload is sufficient to destroy the Nighthawk,” added the defense officer.

  “Well I guess that’s that,” said the XO, folding his arms. They’d been ordered to either bring the Nighthawk in or destroy it. Technically this was a success. But to Nimoux it felt like a bitter failure. He was angry at Datar for circumventing his orders. And the loss of the Nighthawk seemed like such a pointless waste—not to mention the unnecessary loss of life. He thought of the men and women aboard the ship. Imperial officers and citizens. They’d gotten their hands dirty, possibly even defected to a foreign government—but surely they didn’t deserve this fate.

  Nimoux’s mind
flashed back to the mission on Korrivan years ago. How, in order to maintain his cover, he’d been forced to execute three fellow operatives whose cover had been blown. An action that proved his “loyalty” to the slave-running organization he’d subsequently taken down. The mission was hailed as a spectacular success and catapulted his career to new heights. Because of it, the slave trade had been expunged from The Corridor and thousands of men and women were freed from the secret oppressive hell they’d been born into. Had he not fired those nine bullets, and killed those three innocent officers, his cover would have been blown and the Korrivan slaver regime would undoubtedly still be operating today. But the cost had been high. And the faces of the victims haunted him night and day. The ends justified the means—that’s what everyone said. And hell, maybe they did. Nimoux didn’t know. All he was sure of was that, if he had the choice again, he would not kill those people. And what was happening here—the slaughter of scores of fellow officers on the Nighthawk—felt no different than Korrivan.

  “All batteries, intercept those missiles. I don’t want one of them to hit the Nighthawk!” said Nimoux, making a snap decision. He would bring Calvin in yet, that was a promise, but he wouldn’t have more innocent blood on his hands. Besides, if there was any truth to Calvin’s wild claims it would prove a mistake to let him die here.

  “Yes, sir,” said the defense officer, letting loose all of the Desert Eagle’s guns. No doubt he was confused by the order—probably everyone was, but they all knew better than to question a command from Nimoux.

  The energy weapon fried its targets one by one as they neared the Nighthawk, and the mounted guns roared, shredding the other seeker missiles. They exploded harmlessly before getting near the Nighthawk.