He saved the results of the Gates search for review later then sent an inquiry to Intel Wing, asking what it would take to destroy a star like TR-301. He had no astrophysicists aboard and that meant Fleet Command would hear his inquiry too, and they might think it’s a waste of time. But to hell with them.
He called the bridge. "Hey, Sarah?"
"Yeah, Cal?"
"Point all our major scanners to the collapsing star and everything around it within a click. If so much as a piece of garbage is out there, I want to know about it."
"Do you mind if I ask why?"
"Just a suspicion, Sarah. That's all."
"Aye, aye." The intercom clicked off and he resumed his investigation of Mister Gates.
Unfortunately, information about Mister Gates was rather sparse. He had medical records, proof of birth and citizenship, family and next of kin, school reports, a dissertation, but nothing outstanding. Except for a strange gap in his education. For one year he was away from school for no apparent reason.
Finally, after much research, Calvin pieced together something huge. Gates had been sentenced to "four years imprisonment followed by three years at the reform center on Primeva Major." But the sentence was commuted after only one year and he was returned to school, record wiped clean. Calvin kept digging.
"For five years Jefferson Aldred Gates was part of the paramilitary organization CERKO." Calvin knew who they were. A small group of rebels who claimed responsibility for the terrorist attack that destroyed the Imperial Ship Lightfalcon B. For ten years CERKO attacked police stations and bombed government structures until the Imperial Military cracked down on them. Apparently, during the government raids, they found evidence linking Gates to CERKO, as a sympathizer who supplied explosives. He was captured, tried, and eventually put into prison. Or so Calvin gathered; the picture wasn't very clear since he was piecing this together from several—somewhat inconsistent—sources, and someone had gone through and done a sloppy whitewash of Gates' files.
"Now we're onto something," Calvin started a new search, hoping to find out why a former convict and terrorist had been allowed aboard a major military vessel, and why Gates' sentence was commuted. But just as he got excited, his intercom light flashed again.
"What is it?" He asked, unhappy about the interruption.
"Captain to the bridge," said Sarah, sounding alarmed.
Calvin jumped up and hustled to the door without another word. Not much in the galaxy worried Sarah. "What is it?" he asked, sweeping toward the command position.
"The Major just apprised us of a situation below decks," Summers was calm and well collected. But Miles wore his anxiety on his sleeve.
"The bloody werewolf has escaped!" he yelled.
Calvin looked back to Summers who nodded. "He's escaped confinement and both guards are missing."
"What about the surveillance tape?"
"The Major's looking it over now."
"Condition one alert!" said Calvin and he pressed the intercom. "All hands not on duty must report to quarters immediately, and stay there until further notice. And keep them locked at all times. An intruder is aboard, I repeat an intruder is aboard. Consider him armed and dangerous. Until I say otherwise, code fifteen is in place. All decks are locked down effective immediately and all active personnel are on continuous duty until told otherwise. That is all."
"What does that mean, code fifteen?" asked Miles.
"It's a mystery to me how you ever passed the certification exam," said Summers.
Calvin opened a channel to the Major's office. "What's going on, Major? I need a report."
"Sometime within the last ten minutes the lycan disappeared along with his guards. The surveillance shows nothing and we've just proven it's a fake, someone switched the tapes. And the audio feed we set up on that deck didn't pick up anything either. We've done a sweep of the five decks surrounding the confinement area... so far nothing."
"Oh that's just perfect..." Calvin let go of the comm for a second and looked at Summers. "We just had to bring him aboard... duty demanded it... well, I hope you're happy!" he pushed the button again. "I suggest you activate all your units and break them into teams. I want every inch of this ship searched until every room has been turned upside down, every panel opened, and every nook and cranny uncovered. We're going to find him!"
"Agreed. I've already begun organizing teams."
"And, Major, send your upper-decks team to the bridge ASAP, I want to go with them."
"Acknowledged, they'll be there soon." Calvin let go of the comm and headed back toward his office.
"Go with them?" Summers asked. "What for?"
"Because I made a mistake that put my crew in danger and I'll be damned if I don't fix it. You have the deck."
Once inside his office it was only a few steps to the weapons locker. He pressed his thumb to the plate and typed in the code—which took him a second to remember. His ship had never been boarded before so he'd never needed to use his firearms until today.
He selected an assault rifle from a set of five and took an additional pistol with thigh holster. He inspected the weapons then loaded the magazines making sure to bring a few extras. The pistol was as simple as they came, but the rifle was thoroughly upgraded and boasted much more firepower than what marines packed. The manufacturer bragged this rifle could "shred steel." And though that claim was certainly exaggerated, Calvin didn't handle the weapon lightly. He returned to the bridge with it firmly in hand, aimed at the floor.
The Special Forces unit had already arrived. Five soldiers in total, a little less than a fourth of Special Forces. They brandished a variety of guns, all impressive, and stood rigid, side-by-side, in dark grey camouflage with black berets. He only knew two of them by name, one was the Major's second in command, Captain Jason Pellew. His body was every bit the rugged and tough soldier he was supposed to be, but he had the face of a movie star and a suaveness about him that made him popular among the women on the ship. Sarah's eyes were glued to him, and even Summers seemed slightly distracted.
"Mister Pellew," said Calvin, looking him in the eyes.
"Yes, sir."
"We'll start at the bridge landings, split the team in half and work in a circle tossing every deck from ten to seven."
"Yes, sir," Pellew saluted then turned to his men. "Staff Sergeant Davis, take Nassar and Uzbeck and search the landings and the aft sections. Alenko, you’re with me and the captain in the bow, now let's move out."
They acknowledged and saluted. Calvin followed behind Pellew down the hatch and ladder while the other team took the elevator. Once on the steel landing they filed into the corridor of deck nine. As they passed a few quarters and offices they began to toss the rooms. Calvin stuck with Pellew and they overturned every inch of the quartermaster's office before moving to the adjacent maintenance closet.
"Are your men aware that we're not searching for a regular human intruder?"
"Sir, yes, sir."
"It's just the three of us, you can drop the sir, yes, sir stuff,” said Calvin. Pellew didn't respond so he added, "that’s an order."
"All right, then," said Pellew. "I know we're looking for the lycan we took off the shuttle a few hours ago. What else can you tell me about him?"
"Not a lot, unfortunately. The Major and I didn't get anything out of him during our interrogation."
They finished rummaging through the maintenance closet and locked it up again. "What I want to know," said Calvin. "Is how two Special Forces soldiers, experts, allowed him to escape in the first place. What can you tell me about them?"
Before Pellew could answer, one of his men jogged to them with a report. "All the men report nothing in this section, sir."
"Inform the sergeant we're moving to deck eight, then form up at the ladders."
"Sir, yes, sir!" the lance corporal jogged off.
"What were you saying?" Pellew looked at him.
Calvin decided he was more interested in something else. "Wher
e do you keep the surveillance feed? I need to know who could have replaced the tape."
"HQ, on deck one." Pellew's answer was exactly as Calvin suspected. The Head Quarters for the Special Forces staff was a set of small adjoining offices that were constantly staffed and busy. Penetrating it deep enough to replace a critical data tape undetected would be a nearly impossible achievement. Unless the perpetrator were an insider, or had special talents. Making the mystery of the missing tape another question he couldn't solve without more information.
They met up with the rest of their team and climbed down to the next deck, which they spread out and tossed like before. The soldiers stormed through the corridors and rooms, keeping the alarmed crewmen in their quarters, and overturned tables and chairs, searched under beds, etc. But as Calvin had feared, they turned up nothing. Just as they finished combing deck eight, the Major gave them a report via Captain Pellew's radio. Fifty percent of the ship searched so far, and nothing found.
They continued their deep search to deck seven, opening every container, scouring every room, but they still found nothing. The Major's other teams reported no more success. They were quickly running out of ship to search and Calvin feared the werewolf's keen senses kept him a step ahead, allowing him to double back to sections they'd already searched, giving them the perpetual slip. He wished he could post soldiers in every corridor on every deck, but he lacked the manpower. And he didn't want to involve the crew who were neither properly trained nor equipped to handle a rogue werewolf. He knew he needed outside help before an incident happened, so he radioed the bridge.
"Put out a distress call," he instructed Sarah. "But only use frequencies watched by Intel Wing. Inform them we have a two-nineteen and need to be boarded by a large, heavily armed unit."
Barely two minutes later she radioed back. "Intel Wing confirms the Avenger is inbound to board us, six clicks away. We've altered course to rendezvous. ETA... three hours."
"Three hours?"
"That's the closest ship capable of handling a two-nineteen."
"All right, burn the engines at full capacity and get us into as deep a jump as possible. Hopefully we can reach ninety-nine point nine percent potential. Keep me informed."
He gave Pellew back the radio with a sigh, knowing he could have expected no better. His ship was way out in deep space, a region inconveniently between the Empire, the Rotham Republic, and the Polarian Confederated States, and mostly ignored by the major powers. Just as the radio had changed hands, a soldier's voice crackled over it.
"Team two found something in the port quarter of deck three."
"In the storage containers?" asked Calvin.
Pellew raised the radio to his mouth. "What is it, sergeant?"
"You'd better get over here, sir."
Pellew looked to Calvin for confirmation.
"You heard the man, let's go."
Chapter 11
"It's the two missing crewmen," Major Jenkins said.
Two men lay on the ground near an open storage container where, apparently, they'd been stashed. Dr. Monte Blair knelt over one, a medical bag at his side.
"Are they dead?" asked Calvin.
"No, just unconscious," said Monte. "Being trapped in a crumpled position for an hour isn't good on the joints, but it isn't horrible either. These men are lucky. I see no cuts, no teeth marks, not even bruises. I'm not sure how the lycan incapacitated them."
"If he was the one who did it," Calvin thought of the missing surveillance tape. And the fact that even a lycan shouldn't have been able to slip past his forcefield. It was a forcefield after all.
"You think it was one of ours?" Captain Pellew asked.
"Can't rule it out," Calvin bent down to look at the unconscious soldiers. "Either that or someone else was on the transport besides the werewolf."
"And the Nighthawk's scanners missed them? Impossible. A craft that size in open sight? We have the best equipment in the Fleet and we sealed it shut after our last soldier was back aboard. We definitely would have seen someone."
Calvin shrugged. "At this point I'm willing to believe anything. And suspect anyone. Considering what’s happened lately, I don’t think anything’s crazy anymore.” He rose to his feet and smoothed out his uniform.
"Monte, get these men to the infirmary at once. I want them to stay there until we’ve had a chance to question them. Let me know the minute they come to.” Calvin looked to the Major. "Jenkins, I need you to post some men at the infirmary for the time being."
"Agreed," the Major nodded. "Captain Pellew, see to it."
"Right away, sir."
***
After apprising Summers Presley of the situation below decks, Calvin released the very tired active crew. Once the replacement officers took their stations, and his Second Officer took the command position—with strict orders to inform Calvin if even the slightest thing happened, he left. Moving with a pack of officers to the lower decks, fully armed, travelling in a group—like he'd ordered. They dropped off a person at a time as his or her quarters were reached.
Summers had wanted to stay on the bridge but Calvin insisted she get some rest. She agreed, on the condition that Calvin get some rest also. He doubted he'd be able to sleep but preferred to relax in privacy. And he knew if he let his stress overwhelm him it would impair his judgment.
They reached his quarters on deck five and he took his leave and locked the door. He wasn't sure if the triple seal would stop a werewolf, since he'd never encountered one before, but it would at least slow one down. He didn't undress except to remove his shoes, then he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, taking in slow breaths.
"Lights off," he said and they turned off. Everything was quiet, except for the slight breeze coming through the air vent. Calm and peaceful. He shut his eyes, trying to close his mind to the many questions spinning inside him like a raging storm. But to no avail. He had too few answers and his mind was what it was. Compelled to chew away at every puzzle and mystery until it was solved. And there were far too many:
Raidan’s choice to attack the rotham freighters—sacrificing everything for the “good of the Empire”; the weird message Calvin had received on Praxis before the trial; the Harbinger’s disappearance; the Fleet’s unwillingness to cooperate with Intel Wing; Princess Kalila’s strange visit and behavior; a randomly-exploding star right in his flight path—one that had otherwise seemed healthy; and now he had an insane werewolf running loose on his ship—doing god knows what—with no explanation for how he got loose and an AWOL surveillance tape.
It was way too much to process now. He felt like he was thinking in slow motion. Groggy, blurry eyed, and lightheaded.
He spent most of an hour eating away at these unsolvable riddles, jumping between them scatterbrained, frustrated to no end. Wondering how many of these puzzles linked together. And how many were just bad timing.
His job came with stress, he knew that, but somehow he felt worse than ever. He just couldn't get his mind to calm down. In frustration he lurched to a sitting position.
"Dim Lights," he said and the room brightened a little.
As he thought about the lycan, the nightmarish images of the Trinity's blood stained walls came to mind without effort. More vivid than memories of yesterday. And Christine... dear sweet Christine. His memories of her tortured him, her smile, her laugh, her hands playing gently with his, the joking, the tickle-fights… and those soft brown eyes—full of mischief and curiosity. He missed her. He missed her so much. And he hated himself for letting it all happen to her.
It wasn't until she died that he awoke to how merciless and unfair the universe really was. Cold and cruel. Sparing no one. Christine had been the gentlest, kindest person he’d ever known. And what had fate dealt her?
The events leading up to the Trinity disaster flashed through his mind and he saw his old friends and comrades come alive like ghosts hovering all around. If only they knew what was coming. If only he could warn them... He wished he could go
back and undo it all.
Swimming upstream through his memories he was in college again. Anand, Miles, and other friends were together in their apartments talking about everything, anything, and nothing. Wondering about the uncertain future, idealists with high expectations. The galaxy was their oyster and nothing would keep them from their dreams. He smiled at the banter, the teasing, and the good times. Miles spiking Anand's drinks. Anand getting back at him by putting soap in his cup. Calvin longed for those days again... cutting classes and chasing girls. Those were the golden days, when everything seemed possible. Before real life crushed them and stole their naivety. Calvin had made so many mistakes since then... his eyes drifted to his safe where the equarius was kept. If only he could do it all over, he could do so much better, be so much more.
His thoughts took him through his bittersweet childhood growing up on Capital World without his father. Being called bastard by the bullies. He remembered his first fight, when he pushed the biggest bully into the lake without warning. He'd paid for that one with a black eye and bruises. But it had been worth it to see the other children laugh. And he remembered Sandy. His first girlfriend. How they used to make-out in the tree house, hold hands while walking the lake's edge, and talk about the future. He didn't realize then how different they really were. She dreamed of kids and family and making a difference. While all he cared about was action, romance, and adventure. He didn't think ahead like she did, he just expected everything to work out in the end. When she left Capital World with her parents, she never came back, and he didn't get over her for years. At least not completely. Not until he met Christine.
Once, a long time ago, he'd used his Intel privileges to look Sandy up, out of innocent curiosity, and discovered she was a Planetary Senator. Already established, making a difference, and successful. And she was married to a very prominent police inspector and she had three children. She knew her dreams early, worked for them, and now lived them. She'd fulfilled her own great expectations. Now that he knew that, Calvin couldn't help but wonder about his own.
The Phoenix Conspiracy Page 10