The Phoenix Conspiracy

by Richard L. Sanders

  One was a Special Forces soldier he didn't recognize. The other two were crew. A man, face down, and a woman who was too scorched to recognize. Gruesome enough to set off the gag reflex. But he remained strong.

  "How many?" asked Calvin, now helping Pellew scoop up and distribute the leftover weapons as quickly as possible.

  "Ten rotham, no survivors."

  "And us?"

  "Four deaths, one wounded."

  Calvin looked up to see an injured crew member being patched up by a field medic. His head was obscured by bandages and his limbs were weak, like jelly. His uniform was torn open at the chest revealing a deep wound and some serious third degree burns. He looked up and made eye contact with Calvin. It was Vincent Rose.

  Rose's anguish was obvious but, somehow, in his immense suffering, he seemed distant. Like his mind was no longer there. When he looked at Calvin his eyes sharpened for an instant, as if to say something, but then they were empty. And his body slumped like a ragdoll.

  The medic confirmed he was dead. And Calvin stared at him. It seemed so surreal. Monte, Rose, probably the Major, and too many others. Just like being on the Trinity all over again. Except, instead of seeing acquaintances cut down, these were people he'd known much better. Well enough to understand that Rose's death widowed a young, sweet wife, and the happiest little girl Calvin had ever met. Someone so young shouldn't have her life marred in tragedy so early. He felt himself start to tremble but, once more, his training took over and he forced himself to be calm. He would mourn Rose, Monte, and the others properly, he promised himself, but not now. Now he had to be a leader.

  "Let's move!"

  They made it the rest of the way without trouble. A few Rotham technicians and crew were around, but they scattered as the humans' footsteps thundered closer. Pellew forbade anyone from shooting anyone unarmed. Not because he was a peace-loving person, he wasn't, but rather because it was a waste of ammo. The Rotham weapons were especially taxed, many of the energy cells nearly exhausted. And the human weapons were all on their last magazines. Pellew and Summers hadn't been able to smuggle too many clips into the cargo container with them.

  And then there it was. A large grey, side-sliding door. It was locked but Shen and another engineer were able to cut into the control panel and brute force it into opening while the rest watched vigilantly for Rotham soldiers.

  "OK we're in," said Shen as the door started sliding.

  "Do you think they set up in engineering instead of here?" asked Sarah.

  "I sure hope so," Pellew replied. "Because if they did set up here, we're all dead. But no time for worrying about that now." He squared his shoulders, weapon at the ready, and ordered his soldiers into assault formation. And, like shock troopers, they stormed into the auxiliary bridge, followed by a slew of armed crewmembers, including Calvin.

  The first ten seconds were pure chaos, weapons-fire erupted from all directions. Calvin and the others moved to any kind of cover they could find—he crouched behind a set of stairs. Those without cover went prone and tried to make themselves as small as possible, shooting at everyone and anything hostile while trying to ascertain where all the enemies were.

  This bridge was large, much larger than the bridge of the Nighthawk—which didn't even have a secondary bridge. And tucked away along the rim of the mostly-round room was a platform with several controllers. The enemy had the high ground.

  Behind everything was a large window that made up the far wall, hugging the lip of the platform. Calvin looked it over thoroughly, popping his head up from cover for seconds at a time, trying to find a good shot. When he saw an enemy's head appear, he pointed and squeezed the trigger. A direct hit. The rotham's mess of a face fell back behind cover. Dead as dead. Calvin felt no remorse.

  At first the humans took the greater casualties but in very little time Special Forces swept in and captured the room through superior expertise. Before long, they'd killed off all resistance and combed the room for hidden enemies.

  Pellew authorized deadly force against the unarmed Rotham crewmen who'd survived the firefight. He said they were in no position to take prisoners and couldn't risk sending them outside to report the secondary bridge had fallen. And now that the humans had obtained more weapons, it wasn't such a waste of ammo. Not everyone was comfortable with this kind of brutality, even in a state of war, but no one objected.

  Calvin watched them die swiftly, execution-style, their wide eyes seemed almost too stunned to be afraid. He looked at Alex, their Rotham tag-along, expecting him to object to this treatment but he didn't. He remained as silent as ever, as silent as Calvin was, but his crooked face seemed almost pleased at the grim business that made Calvin uneasy to watch.

  Next, Pellew ordered his men to barricade the room and raise defenses. Overturn desks, use chairs as obstacles, etc. Calvin helped two other crew members drag the dead into a corner and situate the wounded into a more comfortable position against the far wall.

  In total, they'd lost three more and an equal number were wounded. Among the injured was Shen, who couldn't keep back a quiet howling, his shoulder was black where his uniform had been burned. One of the medics was tending to him, looking over the injury while Shen's good arm was trying to scratch away the burned part of the uniform. The medic was engaged in stopping him with one hand and putting a loose sterile cloth around the area with the other. Like those in the corridors, the medkits on the bridge had been pilfered immediately.

  The medic noticed Calvin standing over them and looked up to say "he'll live." Then moved on to the next of the injured.

  Calvin looked at Shen. "You okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine," Shen lied through gritted teeth, eyes watering.

  "Hang in there," said Calvin. "We'll get out of this yet. Just keep it together. And remember, the Andromeda has its own burn ward."

  Shen nodded trying to force a smile.

  "And Shen," said Calvin, reluctant to disturb a man in pain. "Since we are on the secondary bridge, is there anything we can do from here to sabotage the ship? Make it less able to fight the Andromeda. Lower its shields? Drain its power? Jam its firing systems? Anything that would make it easier to subdue?"

  Shen looked up. "I don't know, maybe." He struggled as if to get up but Calvin stopped him.

  "No, no, you stay put. Just tell me and the engineers what to do." Some of the engineers had overheard him and Calvin waved them over.

  "Okay," said Shen. "Go over to the main panels, they're on the platform above us." He proceeded to coach them through several tactics to compromise the ship's systems. They had some difficulty, as the controls had few instructions—and the existing instructions were in Rotham. Alex assisted them and Calvin was again surprised by his willingness to work against his own people.

  They shifted power levels and followed several other of Shen's ideas, who seemed unable to really concentrate. But, in the end, they had very little success. The main bridge locked them out of the computer systems. And, if nothing else, they only confirmed they were on the secondary bridge.

  "It was worth a try," said Calvin, not really sure that it was.

  While he and the others had been busy, Pellew had finished positioning everyone in their most tactically ideal places and set up all the defenses he could.

  By scooping up the weapons from the dead, they now had enough to arm everyone who wasn't injured. They'd also managed to short out the door so the control system on the outside wouldn't be able to force it open, like they had. The downside was that they couldn't open the door either.

  "The Fifth Fleet better come fast," said Pellew. "Because this isn't going to hold off a few hundred Teldari for long."

  In no time they heard banging against the door. Followed by a muffled drilling.

  "Why does this seem so damn familiar?" asked Miles, standing next to Calvin. A hot white spark could be seen where the enemy was carving into the door with a laser drill. Calvin's muscles tightened and he steadied his handgun.

  "
Hey, look everybody," shouted Sarah from behind. She—like Calvin, Miles, and several other crew members—was on the platform. The Special Forces soldiers did not look to see what she was excited about. They kept a disciplined watch of the door, which threatened to burst at any moment. But everyone else turned.

  Calvin looked and saw nothing. Sarah stood in front of the great wide window, which was black and empty.

  "What?"

  "Look!" She pointed, sounding annoyed.

  Calvin moved closer.

  "See them?" asked Sarah.

  And then, in the blanket of darkness, Calvin caught a glimpse of phantom grey ships. With their identifier lights turned off, they blended in almost completely with the black space.

  "It's the Andromeda!" Sarah announced and a cheer filled the bridge. Calvin too spotted the great white ship in the center, as lights from the Rotham ship bounced off of it.

  "Use the projector display," said Shen from the ground, still hunched over.

  "Yeah, turn it on," said Calvin to the nearest engineer, since he had no idea how. The woman complied and before long a huge three dimensional projection of the system appeared, filling the center of the auxiliary bridge where all could see. The engineer focused it on the Andromeda and all surrounding ships.

  The vessels moved fast, in an attack posture, with two destroyers in the lead, then the Andromeda, two more destroyers at its sides, and three battleships at the rear. They closed in on the alien squadron, which couldn't be entirely seen from this view, but looked to be around four heavy warships and two smaller ones, along with a swarm of fighters barely more than specks.

  "No chance, they have no chance," Miles' voice boomed. "The aliens are roasted. Go Empire. Hell yeah! Fifth Fleet!"

  The alien squadron moved to a defensive posture, ready to engage the incoming Imperial ships. Calvin was worried that the aliens would make a run for it, dragging them along to who knows where, but that didn't seem to be their intention. Which, aside from making him grateful, made him curious.

  "Wow these guys are stupid," said Miles, managing to laugh. "They don't have a chance."

  Calvin frowned. He thought the alien's confidence in taking the Fifth Fleet head on was a bit bold, even for them. Did they have a kind of weapon no one expected? One that might be a match for the Imperial Fleet? Unlikely. But then again, they had managed to see through the Nighthawk's stealth capabilities... perhaps this battle wasn't as decided as Miles claimed.

  There was silence as the Fleets converged on each other and then, before they were in range to attack each other with any kind of major firepower, the darkness lit up.

  "What the hell?” asked Miles. Calvin and the others watched as the Fifth Fleet's rearguard opened fire on its leading ships.

  It was absurd, he couldn't believe it. But the display showed clearly that Human ships were attacking other Human ships, throwing the whole formation into disarray.

  "Oh my god..." Sarah's voice trailed off.

  Within seconds, two of the human destroyers disappeared. Calvin could see debris breaking up outside the window.

  The Human ships were now in a panic, with the remaining destroyers breaking formation—obviously unsure who was an enemy and who wasn't. The battleships now fired on the Andromeda, which turned to attack them broadside. Destroying one battleship and crippling another in no time. Able to use all batteries at that range, its unparalleled firepower ripped through the warships' armor and bypassed their advanced shields.

  The alien ships had now reached attack range and opened fire on the leading Human ships. The destroyers regrouped to hold them off, providing cover for the Andromeda as it fought the traitorous battleships, taking a severe beating itself.

  Everyone who could, watched breathlessly as the Fifth Fleet incinerated itself. The alien ships took no losses as they pulverized the Human destroyers, while the Andromeda became scarred and battered, and part of its hull broke off just as it finished wiping out the last Human battleship. Leaving it alone as the sole Human ship in the system, against several alien ships in mostly-perfect condition.

  The Andromeda changed direction and, while being pounded by alien fire, swiftly jumped away into alteredspace. The Polarian ship bolted after it and it too vanished into alteredspace. Leaving the Nighthawk's crew alone once more. Trapped on a Rotham ship, in the middle of a Rotham squadron. Hopes blown out like candles in a storm.

  "Why...?"

  "I don't believe it..."

  "Did our ships fire on our destroyers...?"

  Perhaps no one was more shocked and heartbroken than Summers. She stared forlorn out the window and eventually lowered her head. And for the first time, Calvin saw no fire inside her. She was crushed. Like someone who'd just witnessed everything she'd ever believed in vanish like a midday shadow. Her face was pale as a corpse’s. And she slouched, barely able to stand. He was filled with pity seeing her.

  And then inevitability sank in. They all looked to him for answers, but he had none.

  "What do we do now?" someone asked. He felt only barely aware it was Sarah. And made no response.

  "What's our next move?" someone else asked.

  The banging and drilling was louder than ever now. And as Calvin looked at the door, he saw it was about to come apart. A gateway opening to oblivion.

  "Calvin?"

  "They're almost through!"

  "How do we get out of this one, Cal?" Miles asked from directly to his left.

  "We... don't," Calvin whispered. Then, a bit stronger, "this is our final stand." He raised his weapon, and the others did the same.

  "I never thought I'd die on an alien ship," said Miles. "That's why I didn't join the damned marines."

  Pellew gave his final orders to his men, making sure they were ready and optimally positioned. Then, just as they heard the Rotham drill finish breaking through, he glanced up at Calvin and nodded. As if to say "it's been an honor, sir."

  Calvin returned the nod. Then took aim.

  Chapter 30

  Before the door's debris hit the ground, a storm of crossfire surged in and out of the room. Completely obscuring whoever was out there.

  A wave of five Rotham shock troopers charged in and were cut down instantly. The covering fire from their end was worthless against Pellew's superiorly positioned troops. The second shock wave also failed. They died trying to clear away the mess of chairs and obstacles Pellew had placed, and their bodies joined the debris. Holding that chokepoint was something the humans could manage for awhile. But both Calvin and Pellew knew their weapons would soon be exhausted. And when they tried to pick up more, from the new Rotham dead, they'd be the ones getting cut down.

  And since they had the men to do it, wave after wave of Rotham soldiers charged into the room only to die violently. They managed a few lucky shots and hit token humans here and there; it was uncertain who was dead and who was just wounded. The heat of battle kept Calvin focused on the chokepoint.

  He unloaded on two of them, killing one, injuring the other. His slide stuck back and he knew he was out of ammo, he rolled into cover and waited.

  It was from this position, facing the window, that he saw the planet moving and he knew the ship was turning. The alien squadron was changing its posture. But what for?

  And then the noise of fighting died down. He dared to poke his head up and he saw the smoky doorway start to clear. Below him, the Special Forces soldiers and several crewmen were tense and ready for the next wave. But it didn't come. Had the Rotham decided they were losing too many men with the direct assault tactic?

  "What are those lizards waiting for?" asked Miles.

  "Do you think they'll gas us through the vents?" asked Sarah.

  "Maybe they want us alive?" a soldier said.

  The lights went dark and Calvin assumed power had been cut to them. The display flickered and died and several other systems seemed to be failing. "They're going to wait us out," said Calvin.

  A deep rumble filled the ship. And several other c
onsoles went dead. Calvin looked back at the window and saw the lights of exchanging starship fire. It got brighter and closer. Piercing the darkness for brief moments, again and again, with ghostly flashes.

  And, in the distance, moving ever closer, was the grim-steel face of the Harbinger. Its weapons ablaze, shredding the nearest Rotham ship like it was made of paper—the only ship standing between it and the one holding the Nighthawk’s crew.

  Calvin lost sight of it as the ship they were on turned, trying to maneuver away from the Harbinger. But Calvin felt a flicker of hope return and he shouted.

  "The Harbinger, I saw the Harbinger!"

  "What?"

  "It's attacking the Rotham ships!"

  An engineer ran over to the nearest working panel—there weren't many systems still online. But he managed to confirm it. "The Harbinger is here. Along with three other Human ships—including the Liberty Sun."

  They all cheered once more.

  "Yes! Yes! I knew it! I knew it!" said Miles. "Eat death you bastards!" he screamed at the window as another Rotham ship was decimated.

  "I don't believe it," Summers whispered.

  "Maybe he's been misunderstood," said Calvin.

  She didn't look up. "He has a lot to answer for."

  "Yes," agreed Calvin. "But not right now."

  "Oh look at that!" said Sarah.

  They could see small rockets and larger projectiles penetrate their ship's shield and slam into the hull. Wiping out its engine before it could jump from the system.

  "Pulsar torpedoes," said Miles. "They want to disable us."

  The Harbinger attacked them broadside and as they exchanged fire, it was clear the Rotham ship was outmatched. A hailstorm of projectiles swept toward them like a crushing tidal wave. Many of them were intercepted by missiles, energy beams, and basic gunfire. But most were not. And for each torpedo that failed to hit its mark it seemed two more were fired. Piercing the screen of defenses and scoring hits on the Rotham ship's critical areas.

  In no time, the vessel was dead in space. At that point, the Harbinger changed angle and disappeared from view out the window.