The Phoenix Reckoning (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 6)

by Richard Sanders

  “The frigates continue to maneuver around us,” said Shen. “They’re focusing in on our starboard side.”

  “Sarah, back off if you have to, but whatever you do, keep them facing our portside or stern, we need armor against those guns.”

  “I’m doing the best I can,” said Sarah, “one frigate would be easy to out-maneuver, but two…two is much harder.”

  “Good thing we have the best pilot in the galaxy, then, isn’t it,” said Calvin.

  Sarah didn’t reply. She seemed too focused on her controls as she did everything possible to keep enemy fire away from their weak spots. As a pilot himself, Calvin could appreciate the skill with which Sarah maneuvered their ship.

  “The Rosco squadron is engaging the second frigate. They’ve opened fire,” said Shen.

  “Hopefully, that gives it something else to focus on,” said Calvin.

  “Negative,” said Shen, “both frigates are still targeting us. I detect more missiles inbound.”

  “So do I,” said Miles, “Damn guns, stop overheating!”

  “Concentrate all our fire on defense only,” said Calvin. “Let the Rosco squadron destroy the frigates. Right now our concern is to stay alive.”

  “A wise choice,” said Summers.

  “Sarah, put some distance between us and those frigates,” said Calvin. “We’re faster than them, let’s get out of their missile range.”

  “You got it, Calvin,” said Sarah, rapidly accelerating the Nighthawk. Of course, without the Nighthawk, there was no way the remaining Rosco ships could take on both frigates, so Calvin knew they’d have to return to the fight, but he insisted on doing so on his terms…not the enemy’s.

  “As soon as we’re clear, drop any shields we’ve recovered and engage the stealth system,” ordered Calvin.

  “What are you, nuts?” asked Miles. “Without us, those Roscos are dead in the water.”

  “I understand that,” said Calvin, “just do it.”

  “Okay, we’re clear,” said Miles. “Engaging stealth.”

  The Nighthawk yawed starboard and continued its swift movement; the frigates stopped their pursuit, obviously unable to detect the Nighthawk’s position anymore. Deprived of their choice target, they focused all their fire on the Rosco squadron.

  “Those frigates are going to make short work of them,” said Miles.

  “What’s the status of our weapons?” asked Calvin.

  “The guns are back online; we have limited ammunition, but enough to keep fighting, and the beam weapon is fully powered,” said Miles.

  “Good,” said Calvin. “Sarah, bring us about and maneuver directly behind the nearest frigate. Miles, once we’re five thousand MCs away, drop stealth and open fire. Let’s see if we can’t take it out.”

  “Aye, aye.”

  “You’ve got it.” They both acknowledged him.

  The ship swung about and they could see the frigate’s lights through the forward window, growing ever larger as they swiftly approached. There was a flash and Shen confirmed that another Rosco ship had been destroyed. “There goes the last sentry ship,” he said. “Now all that’s left are those two destroyers.”

  “Five-thousand MCs,” said Sarah.

  “Dropping stealth,” said Miles. “And firing!”

  They were close enough to the enemy frigate that Calvin could see its armor being ripped apart. Soon their hull was exposed and it fared no better. The enemy frigate tried to turn about, desperate to show the Nighthawk their stronger side, and engage the Nighthawk with their own weapons, but the frigate was sluggish compared to the nimble Nighthawk, and before long it came apart entirely in one large flash, spraying debris everywhere.

  “Frigate destroyed,” said Miles gleefully. “Just one bastard left.”

  “Hit them with everything we’ve got,” said Calvin, knowing that between the Nighthawk, and the remaining Rosco ships, the only enemy ship left in the system wouldn’t stand much chance of survival. Evidently, their captain agreed with Calvin’s assessment because they tried to jump into alteredspace. They almost managed it too, but just as they were about to jump, their alteredspace system was hit and the jump failed, leaving them exposed until the Nighthawk and the Rosco destroyers could finish them off. One of the Rosco destroyers got in the last hit, and the frigate exploded.

  “Goddammit,” said Miles. “I wanted that kill.”

  “At least it’s over,” said Calvin. “We’ve achieved a complete victory against the Khans and the Enclave in space. I wonder how things are faring on the ground in Aleator One. Hail Nimoux, let’s see what he has to say, assuming he’s not too busy to tell us.”

  “Hailing him now,” said Sarah. “He is able to reply,” she said.

  “Put him through on the main speakers,” said Calvin.

  “Nimoux here,” his familiar voice crackled over the loudspeakers.

  “We’ve completely defeated the enemy out here,” said Calvin. “There won’t be any Khan or Enclave reinforcements coming aboard the station.”

  “That’s good to hear,” said Nimoux.

  “What’s the situation like down there?” asked Calvin. “If you have time to give us a quick update.”

  “Two enemy transports were able to cut their way into the station and unload their invasion forces. Right now we’re fighting on two fronts. I’ve focused the majority of our forces against the near enemy, and we’re about to overwhelm them. They’ll have no place to retreat—except back into their transport.”

  “If they do that, give us the word and we’ll destroy it,” said Calvin.

  “My thoughts exactly,” said Nimoux. “Unfortunately, things are not going so well on the other front; they are rapidly losing ground, and if they continue to do so, the heart of the station will become vulnerable.”

  “Are you safe where you are?” asked Calvin, concerned.

  “Honestly, sir, no, not if Alpha Two’s team keeps retreating. But I think I can get reinforcements to them before they’re entirely overrun.”

  “I hope so,” said Calvin. “It sounds like your entire strategy depends on it.”

  “It does.”

  “Have you had much trouble from Enclave Strigoi?” asked Calvin. Visions of them wreaking havoc on the ISS Trinity filled his mind. The horror of them, even the memory of them, stirred something deep inside him, something he didn’t like. He blinked, clearing his mind of those dark memories.

  “No, actually. Reports indicate that we’re up against Khan soldiers, hundreds of them. But no Strigoi have been sighted anywhere. I don’t believe any made it aboard the station. If there were any, they were killed in one of the transports you destroyed.”

  That gave Calvin a warm feeling and he looked at Shen, remembering his Ops officer’s insistence they destroy two particular transports. Calvin was willing to bet that they had been carrying the Enclave Strigoi, and somehow Shen had been able to detect that. Even though Calvin could not explain exactly how that was possible.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I need to cut this short. My attention is needed here,” said Nimoux.

  “Understood,” said Calvin. “Thank you for the update.”

  “Yes, sir. Nimoux out.”

  ***

  Ferreiro had managed to recover from the flashbang, and by the time his sight and hearing returned, a few seconds later, he found himself still intact and unharmed. Lance Corporal Ali had not been so lucky. Despite the protection of his helmet and flak jacket, the enemy fire had managed to find him while he’d been blinded by the flashbang; he’d taken two shots through the throat. As their group retreated, Ferreiro had gotten a good look at his comrade, and the gruesomeness of the sight stayed with him. With his death, that left the Nighthawk with one fewer soldier, now only Ferreiro, Rodriguez, Merrill, and Nimoux remained. All but the last of which were here, attempting to hold these corridors against an overwhelming force.

  “Fall back!” came the order from Alpha Two again. This latest retreat meant they were falling back t
o corridor Charlie Five—the last defensive position remaining to them before being overrun. And if we’re overrun here, thought Ferreiro, then Aleator One will be completely lost. Nimoux had warned them not to let this position fall, should they be forced to reach it; now it was time to prove to the Khans what the defenders were made of, and to hold the line here, no matter what!

  The remaining defenders set up, utilizing the available cover, and focusing their arms against the chokepoint ahead of them—where the enemy would shortly appear. Rodriguez went prone and lined up his carbine, Ferreiro decided to do the same, going prone right next to him.

  “I guess this is it,” said Rodriguez. “We make our last stand here.”

  “We’re not finished yet,” said Ferreiro. “Our story, yours and mine, it doesn’t end here.”

  “How do you know that?” asked Rodriguez.

  “I just do,” said Ferreiro, sighting down his carbine. A moment later the first enemy appeared, and Ferreiro squeezed his trigger.

  “We have to hold here no matter what,” shouted Alpha Two. “They will try to storm this position; we must not let them!”

  “Understood,” said one of the other Roscos. “Let the bastards come,” shouted another. “We’ll show those Khans what Roscos are made of!” said another.

  At least they have spirit, thought Ferreiro, knowing that spirit was about to be heavily tested.

  Another individual Khan soldier appeared, this time Ferreiro held his fire, knowing the enemy expected the Roscos to waste their ammunition, everybody targeting the same thing. He needed to save the rest of his ammunition for when the enemy came in force. So, while the others opened fire, slaughtering the lone Khan that had appeared, Ferreiro spent those precious few seconds reloading his gun with a fresh magazine, even though his current one hadn’t gone completely dry.

  After that, they came in a swarm. No doubt in an effort to overwhelm the defender’s last defensive position. Ferreiro opened fire, barely able to restrain his shooting to short bursts. There were so many of them, and they were everywhere. He quickly found himself squeezing the trigger tight, opening up fully automatic, burning through magazine after magazine as the enemy corpses piled the floor.

  “They’re not going to get us here—” he began to say, then noticed some of the Khan soldiers, who were attempting desperately to hold the ground they gained, take aim at their prone position. “Look out!” said Ferreiro and he put his face against the deck, making himself as small a target as possible. He felt the impact of several bullets slam into his helmet. Fortunately, none of them were high-enough caliber to rip through the steel. When the enemy’s volley stopped, Ferreiro dared look up again. He saw them reloading, so he returned fire, this time remembering to aim for their centers of mass, and to utilize short bursts for accuracy. He dropped one, then two, then a third.

  The Rosco soldiers, any who were still alive, continued to open fire on the Khans’ position, and the enemy soldiers were forced back into the narrow corridor they’d squeezed through in a desperate charge, and then back even further.

  “Hold!” commanded Alpha Two.

  Ferreiro looked around; there weren’t many defenders left. It was lucky that the Khans had taken such casualties that they’d had to retreat and regroup. But, Ferreiro was sure the enemy had retained sufficient numbers to attempt the same tactic again, trying to overrun a highly defensive position through sheer force of numbers. Only this time, they would likely succeed.

  “We may need to move again,” said Ferreiro.

  There was no reply.

  “Diego, I said we may need to move again,” said Ferreiro, keeping two sharp eyes on the entryway from the corridor, where the Khans had emerged only moments before. They’re coming again, thought Ferreiro, I can feel it.

  Diego Rodriguez still did not reply. Ferreiro dared a glance to his right, and, to his profound horror, saw that Rodriguez was dead.

  “No!” shouted Ferreiro. “No, you can’t be—” it was impossible; it couldn’t be! He checked his friend for signs of life, checked his vitals, tried very hard to ignore the two obvious bullet holes that had taken Rodriguez in the face—one of them through the eye. “No! No! No!”

  His screaming was interrupted by the sound of something metal bouncing down the hallway and into view.

  “Flashbang!” yelled Alpha Two. “Cover your—” before he could say eyes, it went off in a loud explosion that left Ferreiro once again momentarily deaf. Fortunately, he’d buried his eyes, tightly closed, pressed deeply against Rodriguez’s corpse, and so when he opened them again, he retained his vision. Some of the Roscos had been just as lucky, while others looked lost and dazed.

  “Here they come,” said Ferreiro, even though he could not hear himself. He knew the enemy would soon charge around that corner, now that their flashbang had gone off. Ferreiro stood up, screaming over the ringing in his ears, “Those bastards killed Diego! Let us go and meet them!”

  Without realizing what he was doing, and against all of his best judgment, Ferreiro charged the enemy’s position. Like he’d expected, Khan soldiers began to appear around the corner; Ferreiro stopped only long enough to drop to one knee and shoot them dead. He fired until his magazine was dry, slapped in another, and then resumed his charge, all the while screaming and yelling.

  “Kill me!” he shouted as he rounded the corner, unsure whether any support was following him. “Kill me, I dare you!”

  He felt tears fill his eyes, tears of rage and grief and, most of all, disbelief. I cannot live in this world, he thought. He squeezed his trigger when he saw more enemies, this time aiming for their heads—wanting them to suffer the same fate that Rodriguez had suffered. “You bastards!” he shouted at them. “Kill me if you can! Kill me, you shits!” He continued charging, unsure why he was encountering so few Khan soldiers along the way.

  No matter. He would kill every last one of them. And, hopefully, by the time he had made them pay dearly with their blood for what they had done, Ferreiro too would be resting peacefully in the great beyond…united with Diego Rodriguez once more.

  Our story wasn’t supposed to end like this, he thought, gritting his teeth. He saw more Khan soldiers; they seemed to have called a full retreat. That only made them easier targets. Ferreiro unloaded on them. “Take that, you goddamn bastards!” then, to another group, as he fired his last magazine dry, “Send me to Hell if you can! I’ll see you there!”

  CHAPTER 07

  Calvin anxiously awaited news from the station. As the Nighthawk made what felt like its millionth loop around Aleator One, the attitude on the bridge was one of tense silence. Each person remained at his or her post, keeping a shrewd eye on their monitors, except for Miles who had flipped his chair around to face away from the defense station. He was as eager as the rest of them to receive news regarding the battle between the Khans and the Roscos on the ground, but Miles seemed to be doing everything he could to appear not to care.

  He leaned back in his wrong-facing chair, resting his head against arms that were casually folded behind his neck, and every now and then let out an annoyed exhale, as if trying to let them all know how supremely bored he was. Calvin, however, knew Miles well enough to see through the act, and knew it was merely a coping method to deal with his anxiety. Summers did not have such an insight, and she’d spent the past several minutes with her arms folded, glaring at Miles—who, for his part, had pretended not to notice. Calvin was about to say something to the both of them, to defuse the situation before Summers started trying to discipline Miles, when Sarah broke the silence.

  “Message from the station,” she said. All chairs spun to face the helm.

  “Patch it through,” said Calvin.

  “To Lieutenant Commander Calvin Cross,” Nimoux’s voice came over the speakers, loud and clear. “This is Captain Nimoux reporting in, over.”

  “Go ahead, Captain,” said Calvin, keen to hear what the Special Forces chief and 2O had to say.

  “The battle for A
leator One and its satellite stations appears to be over,” said Nimoux. The sense of relief that filled the bridge was tangible.

  “I assume that the Roscos won the battle,” said Calvin, “by the mere fact that you’re sending me this report.”

  “Your deduction is correct,” said Nimoux. “Although it proved to be a near thing, the strategy I employed proved successful, and before my secondary group could be entirely overrun, the main Rosco force was able to reinforce them—having just defeated the entirety of the cargo bay’s invaders. This proved too much for the remaining Khan soldiers, who had sacrificed many lives trying to storm the well-defended corridors, and they retreated, rushing back to their transport. Anticipating this, I managed to have a third group cut off their escape, and all of the Khan soldiers have been killed or taken prisoner. At my recommendation, the Roscos are currently engaged in a full security sweep of their station, but I strongly doubt they will find any Khan holdouts anywhere.”

  “That is excellent news,” said Calvin. “Can you give me a report on casualties or is that too premature?”

  “For exact numbers, it is too premature. It appears that for each Rosco soldier killed, around three or four Khan soldiers died or were captured, but the exact numbers have not yet been determined.”

  “And of our men?” asked Calvin.

  “It is my sad duty to report that of the five of us who came aboard the station, two soldiers were lost in the action, and one seems to be emotionally compromised.”

  “Who did we lose?” asked Calvin soberly.

  “Lance Corporal Ali and Private First Class Rodriguez both perished in the battle. I recommend both for posthumous commendations of valor.”