The Phoenix Reckoning (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 6)

by Richard Sanders

  Nimoux nodded. “I quite agree,” he said. “Which is why it is, and always has been, my recommendation that we make port in a system deeply loyal to Her Majesty and only approve soldiers loyal to her.”

  “I’m of the exact same opinion,” said Summers. “I don’t want more soldiers from Raidan aboard this ship any more than you do, probably less even, but the choice isn’t between mercenaries from Raidan and whatever riff-raff we can find frequenting the bars and casinos of Aleator.”

  “Thank you, both of you, for your counsel,” said Calvin. “However, my mind is made up on this. I have decided that I only want soldiers whose loyalty I can control. Whose loyalty I have bought. I want them loyal to me and to this mission, not soldiers loyal to Raidan, not soldiers loyal to the queen, and not soldiers loyal to Caerwyn. Because, were I to take on more soldiers who owe loyalties higher than to this ship and this mission, the people who control them will always be able to capture this ship, or take command of our mission, and we, the crew, would be helpless to stop them.”

  “But, are we not loyal subjects of Queen Akira?” asked Nimoux.

  “I favor her claim to the throne, yes,” said Calvin. “That does not mean I want to invite her to be able to interfere with our operations. And if we bring aboard some twenty of her soldiers, then she will always be able to make the decisions about what we do—if she should exercise that option.”

  “But, begging your pardon, Calvin, is that not our duty?” asked Nimoux. “Are we not on this mission at her command?”

  “She may have commanded us…she may have allowed us, I’m not sure which,” said Calvin. “But we are on this mission to uncover the truth, whatever it is, and then expose that truth to the galactic public. That is our mission, and if any part of it ever becomes inconvenient for the queen, or Caerwyn, or Raidan, or anyone else, because of what we uncover, I do not wish to have a garrison full of their soldiers aboard this ship.”

  “I see,” said Nimoux. “Then I suppose I misunderstood the mission parameters.”

  “As did I,” added Summers, not too happily.

  “I know that while I was away and you were chasing after the missing isotome weapons, you were close to the civil war and probably got a lot of news about it,” said Calvin. “I don’t doubt you saw vids of the horrors, read casualty lists, probably even lost friends and loved ones in those battles.

  “But you have to trust me when I tell you that what I saw when I went into Alliance and then Rotham space, and what intelligence we discovered there, is that the scope of what we’re dealing with is so much greater than just the civil war back home. Yes, there is a major conflict between Kalila and Caerwyn and it is tearing our Empire apart, but we must look beyond that and recognize that the solution to all of this isn’t back that way; it’s out there. And I don’t want loyalties from the civil war to compromise what we need to do.”

  “And your solution is to hire a bunch of bar-trawling mercenaries yourself, out of your own pocket, and then give them access to the Nighthawk?” asked Summers. “And you think they will have the mettle to stand up to whatever unspeakable evils lie in wait for us, out in Forbidden Space?”

  “No, don’t be ridiculous,” said Calvin. “I intend to fill our barracks full of Roscos.”

  At the mention of the name, he heard a sharp inhale come from the direction of the defense post.

  “Miles, are you all right?” asked Calvin.

  “Yes,” said the big man, in a higher pitched voice than usual. He even seemed to shudder for a moment.

  “Roscos?” asked Nimoux, sounding more curious than argumentative. “Aren’t they gangsters?”

  “You could say that,” said Calvin.

  “And you wish to bring them aboard the Nighthawk?” asked Nimoux.

  “As I said, we all agree we need soldiers; I merely want those soldiers to be soldiers that we can control.”

  “Calvin, be straight with me,” said Summers with a raised eyebrow. “What makes you think you can control Rosco soldiers?”

  “Money.”

  “But whose money?” pressed Summers. “Surely you don’t have enough. Would you have the rest of us tap into our life savings? And even then, could you really be certain that that would be enough to sway the Roscos?”

  “No, our money will never be enough,” admitted Calvin.

  “Then what?” Summers looked eager for an answer. No doubt she had wondered all this time, from their very first visit to Aleator, just how exactly Calvin was connected with the Roscos.

  “I have connections,” said Calvin, hoping to leave it at that.

  “Obviously you have connections,” said Summers. “Last time we were there, you left Aleator One in a Rotham cargo ship that I know you didn’t buy.”

  “She’s got you there, Calvin,” said Miles.

  “Look, it’s not a sure thing,” said Calvin, “but I’m going to make every arrangement so that we can repair our ship in Aleator, take-on new supplies and armaments there, and leave with twenty Rosco soldiers, each loyal to my every command.”

  “That’s a tall order coming from someone who just admitted he didn’t have the money for such a thing,” said Summers.

  “The commander has a point,” said Nimoux. Unlike Summers, he didn’t seem hostile to the idea, merely skeptical of it. For that matter, Calvin was a little bit skeptical himself, since he’d already spent the favor that the Roscos owed him—or rather owed his father—Calvin wasn’t sure he could convince Grady to give him what he was about to ask for. Still, he had to try. If he could make this work, this would be the best solution to the problems at hand. The Roscos were the only ones he could trust not to have their own agenda—they kept a code of honor that bound them to their contracts, and their only beef was with the Khans. Not to mention that Aleator didn’t require them to divert very far off mission, minimizing the delay.

  “Without getting into the specifics now,” said Calvin, “I believe it can be done. And that is the decision I have made. If I am wrong, then we will leave Aleator and head for the nearest Imperial station and make port there.”

  “We defer to your judgment,” said Nimoux.

  “Yes, sir,” added Summers, sounding only half sincere.

  Good enough, thought Calvin. Now it was just a matter of convincing Grady Rosco that helping Calvin and the Nighthawk was in his best interest.

  ***

  “Tell Viper Squadron to pull in tighter!” Kalila shouted. “We have to keep their escape blocked!”

  Sir Gregory relayed her commands to the fleet. The two of them stood over the tactical display on the Black Swan. Kalila’s flagship, along with many other capital ships, stood as a blockade against the Rotham fleet. Kalila had returned to command the battle, after transmitting her message naming Raidan an Enemy of the Empire, and had been pleased to find that her forces were holding firm and the plan seemed to be working.

  Only a few ships and squadrons seemed to be out of place, or otherwise struggling. In all, three squadrons had been lost, but the enemy had suffered far worse. When the Rotham had taken the bait and charged the local defenses of Thetican System, which had been augmented by some of Kalila’s ships, the rest of her fleet had swooped out from either side of the massive star at maximum speed. Together they pincer-attacked the—suddenly out of position—Rotham fleet and didn’t pull any punches. Even now, the Rotham ships were harassed on all sides, by attack pass after attack pass, as they fought to find purchase, some position to which they could hold as a fortified unit. But Kalila’s ships had anticipated this, and were making it as hard as possible for them.

  Without any option for retreat, the Rotham fleet had bit down harder on the local defenses, essentially obliterating them, but this only allowed Kalila’s forces to swing the hammer down upon them more forcefully from behind. In desperation, the Rotham ships had strafed from the combat, leaving their weakened starships to die, and now the battle had moved much closer to the Thetican star itself. No doubt the Rotham intended
to use it as a hazard to maneuver around and allow their surviving ships to escape. Kalila intended to give them no such option.

  “Sir, the enemy has been reduced to fifty-percent strength,” reported Sir Gregory. “They continue to maneuver.”

  “Stay on them!” she commanded. “Order the blockade to move in; it’s time to finish this.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Captain Adiger,” said Kalila, looking up. The man stood in the center of the Black Swan’s bridge, commanding the mighty vessel against the few ships that had been stupid enough to tangle with it. “We shall lead the attack!”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” he called out, then gave his various orders to his station chiefs.

  Kalila looked at Sir Gregory. “You’re smiling, sir.”

  “Apologies, Your Majesty, it’s just, this will be a fine victory you are delivering this day.”

  Kalila nodded. “A much needed one, at the very least.”

  The capital ships from the blockade, led by the Black Swan, reached firing range of the core enemy fleet and began opening fire. Beam weapons and missiles could be seen on the display, tiny and numerous, almost beyond counting. Kalila watched as the Black Swan turned broadside and shredded three Rotham battleships that had sought to engage it. Their lights blinked off on the display.

  “Stay strong, everyone,” said Kalila. Sir Gregory relayed the message to the fleet.

  “They’re starting to get desperate,” observed Sir Gregory, as the Rotham formation seemed to split apart, some ships trying to rout.

  “Send word to each wing commander,” said Kalila. “Remind our fighters to prioritize shooting down enemy missiles first and enemy drone craft second. If they have any isotome missiles, we’re not going to let them use one.”

  Sir Gregory relayed the message, although Kalila knew the reminder was just that, a reminder. Her fighters had long been deployed with the special assignment of spotting and destroying any ordnance fired in the direction of the star. Thus far, none had been spotted, and she had more than enough fighter screens to be certain of it. It was enough to make her doubt that the enemy had even brought the isotome weapons with them. Most likely, the Rotham had hoped to capture Thetican System and use it as a base of operations. It was ideally situated inside The Corridor for just such a purpose. Too bad for them Kalila had prioritized destroying the enemy’s troop transports and landing craft. She would not have another Renora on her hands.

  “The enemy fleet is in disarray,” said Sir Gregory. “It won’t be long now.”

  “Finish it,” said Kalila. “Offer them no quarter.” The last thing she needed was to oversee a hundred boarding actions and lose thousands more lives trying to capture Rotham vessels that, likelier than not, were only pretending to surrender. She’d read of enough instances from the Great War where a boarding party entering a “surrendering” Rotham warship found the enemy lying in ambush, or the vessel rigged to explode once the humans were aboard. There would be none of that today.

  “The enemy fleet’s strength is now less than forty percent,” said Sir Gregory.

  “And ours?” asked Kalila.

  “About seventy-nine or—”

  He was interrupted by a loud shout from one of Adiger’s bridge chiefs. If Kalila remembered correctly, it was the Ops chief. “SIR!” came the shout, “I’m detecting a massive surge in energy—it’s coming from the star!”

  “Let me see that,” Adiger scrambled over to the station.

  “Your Highness…” said Adiger, sounding almost speechless. “It’s…it’s the star.” Kalila looked up, then out the window at the Thetican Parent star in all its orange glory, then back at Adiger.

  “What about it?” she demanded, now walking toward the Ops station herself.

  “It’s…gone,” said Adiger.

  “Gone?” said Kalila, as she pointed out the window. “It’s right there.”

  Then, as if she’d flipped a switch, the star vanished in a flash of white. One moment it was there, vast and orange, the next it was a blinding blink of white, and then a spiraling swirl of stellar debris.

  “Isotome…” she whispered.

  “There’s been a massive collapse of the Thetican parent star!” reported the Ops chief. “There is a tremendous shockwave of stellar debris moving away from the collapse. It’s heading is…” the Ops chief’s voice trailed off momentarily. “Everywhere. It’s moving faster than light…”

  “We have to get the fleet out of here!” said Adiger.

  “Sir Gregory,” said Kalila, as she sprinted back toward the tactical station. “Order the fleet to jump immediately!”

  “To where?”

  “Anywhere!”

  “General Order to all ships,” he said frantically into his headset. “Commence alteredspace jump. I repeat, all ships, commence alteredspace jump immediately. Destination irrelevant. Jump immediately!”

  Sir Gregory shot Kalila a look. “They’re asking about their deployed fighters and short range vessels.”

  Kalila knew there wasn’t any time. For that matter, as the Black Swan twisted hurriedly around and prepared its own alteredspace drives, Kalila would consider it lucky if even she escaped the imminent shockwave.

  “Tell them to jump now! There’s no time to wait!”

  “All ships jump immediately,” said Sir Gregory emphatically into his headset. “I repeat, all ships, jump immediately! Do not recover your short-range craft. Jump into alteredspace now! Do not continue to engage the enemy!”

  Kalila watched the lights nearest to the star all blink out suddenly as the shockwave overtook them.

  “Goddammit,” she whispered. “Jump, people. Jump!” The last thing she saw on the tactical display, as the Black Swan began its leap into alteredspace a full six seconds before impact with the shockwave, was the sight of the Thetican planet itself, sitting there innocently, perhaps only now realizing that every single person on that planet was about to die.

  ***

  “There goes our ride,” came the chatter over the headset. The voice belonged to Midshipman MacDouglas, one of Kenzie’s wingmen.

  “I said to keep this line clear,” said Kenzie, berating her officer. “And hold course for the Majestic Carrier, full throttle.”

  “But Lieutenant,” said Dahlmans, Kenzie’s other surviving wingman. “That’s what MacDouglas means.”

  “What?” demanded Kenzie, still adjusting her craft’s systems to divert everything she possibly could to engines.

  “It’s gone, sir,” said Dahlmans.

  “Yeah, look,” said MacDouglas.

  Kenzie looked out her window and saw several large capital ships, many of them blinking away into alteredspace, but she was sure the Majestic Carrier was there. It had to be. That was their command ship, their home, and their only hope of escaping the shockwave fast on their stern.

  “That can’t be right,” said Kenzie, adjusting her targeting computer and flipping through the identities of the remaining visible ships. She went through the list twice before she believed them. “Well, I’ll be damned…”

  “We’re all damned,” said Dahlmans.

  “See? See?” said MacDouglas.

  Kenzie dared a glance behind her and watched for a few seconds as several vessels, most of them short range, were swallowed up by the shockwave and instantly reduced to debris so fine her scanners couldn’t even detect it. Human ships and Rotham both, the shockwave did not discriminate. And any minute now it would strike the planet. Kenzie did not envy anyone living there, even if she faced the exact same peril, at least she had a beggar’s chance of outrunning the damn scythe stroke.

  “Stick with me and keep that shockwave to stern,” said Kenzie, mustering all her remaining calm.

  “There’s no point,” said Dahlmans.

  “Keep it to stern and route all available power to your engines, burn them hotter than hell. We’re going to outrun this thing,” insisted Kenzie.

  “They left us! They left us!” Dahlm
ans continued to wail.

  “Cut the chatter, Hellcat Two,” snapped Kenzie. She again made some fine adjustments to her systems, now draining power out of everything, other than a small amount for life-support and an extra-small amount for communications. This boosted her fighter craft to a velocity it had never seen before; she couldn’t even get an accurate reading. “Everyone, keep it together.”

  The last of the capital ships blinked away, disappearing into alteredspace, and all that lay ahead of them was the vast black ocean of space, and stars innumerable too far away to reach.

  “Come on, come on,” said Kenzie, checking behind her once again. With her targeting system down and scopes offline, she had to eyeball it, but she could see the shockwave out the back window, and, despite all her efforts, it did seem to be gaining.

  They passed the planet like it was standing still, their fighters screaming silently as they tore through normal space and reckless speed. Still, despite the intense acceleration, with no objects of reference ahead anymore, it suddenly felt like she was sitting still, sitting upright in a metal coffin, looking behind her to occasionally see the shockwave creeping closer, and there was nothing she could do.

  She jerked the yoke, compensating for some lateral drift, and made certain that her trajectory was as directly away from the shockwave as possible. If she got far enough out, she hoped, it would disperse and perhaps she and her wingmen could escape. Then they’ll come back for us, she thought to herself. They’ll have to.

  “Keep together,” she said over the radio. “Keep it together.”

  “Hellcat Leader, it’s gaining on us. I’m going as fast as I possibly can and it’s gaining on us!”

  “Just stick with me, Hellcat Three,” said Kenzie. “A little farther. If we can get a little farther, we just might pull this off.” She turned to look behind her at just the wrong time…she saw the shockwave crash into the Thetican planet and destroy it. One moment a perfectly intact planet with billions of lives, then, in a blink, chunks of debris hurled across space. All the life, industry, structures, all of it, snuffed out faster than blowing on a candle. Kenzie winced and returned her view forward, determined to look only forward from now on.