The Phoenix Reckoning (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 6)

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The Phoenix Reckoning (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 6) Page 17

by Richard Sanders

Shen nodded. “In that case, I apologize. I’ll try again later.” He turned around and began to walk away.

  Sarah felt bad for sending him off like that and her curiosity got the better of her. “Wait,” she said, stopping him.

  “Come on in,” she motioned for him to enter her quarters.

  “Thank you, Sarah, I really appreciate that,” said Shen in a voice so polite she couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not.

  Once they were both inside, Sarah pushed the button and the door slid closed. “What is this about, Shen?”

  He looked around her apartment, perhaps trying to spot the homemade flowers he had carefully folded. If so, it was a vain search, Sarah had thrown them away, along with Shen’s note.

  “Honestly,” said Shen, turning his attention back to Sarah, “I’ve come to apologize.”

  “For what?” asked Sarah.

  “The thing is, I have a million excuses,” said Shen, “but that’s all they are. Just excuses. So without trying to justify anything, I just want you to know that what I did was completely, utterly, and entirely my fault. I had no right to push you away like I did after Remus Nine, and I had no right to ignore you and reject you, and treat you the way I treated you.”

  She stared into his eyes and found his to look surprisingly sincere. His face was red, and this was clearly difficult for him, yet here he was, trying anyway.

  “We have a friendship that I treasure above all my other friendships,” he said. “And because of that, I selfishly wanted to take it farther, even though you were unready or uninterested. And then, when you did not reciprocate my feelings, I took it out on you by stupidly volunteering for a dangerous mission. And, ever after, doing everything I could to push you away so that I wouldn’t have to keep feeling the pain of your rejection.”

  “I—” Sarah tried to interrupt, but Shen clearly wanted to get out everything he’d come to say.

  “You had every right to tell me you didn’t share my feelings,” said Shen. “And instead of respecting your wishes, I acted like a baby about it. And for that, I’m sorry. Sarah, I am so very, very sorry for putting you in the position that I put you in, and for keeping you at arm’s length ever since I got back aboard the ship. Especially when you only wanted to help me. You cared for me, even when I didn’t deserve caring for, and I repaid your kindness with silence, with indifference, and even with rudeness. And for all of that, I am terribly sorry, and I hope,” his eyes seemed almost to tear up at this point, “that you will forgive me. I would like us to be friends again. Even if that is all we ever can be. I treasure our friendship so very much that I don’t want to ever live without it. And, if there is anything I can do, anything in the world, to make it up to you, then say the word and I will do it. Because you mean that much to me. Our friendship means that much to me.”

  With that, he stopped, pausing for breath, and Sarah wasn’t sure if the speech was over. It had taken her so off-guard and felt so tender and sincere, and she could tell how difficult it was for Shen to be here, saying these words. The man was practically trembling with each sentence he spoke and all the while his eyes looked on the verge of bursting into tears.

  Sarah had planned on being angry at Shen. Shen, who had rejected her when she came to him. Shen, who had pushed her away. Shen, who had done all the things that now he was apologizing for. And his apology seemed to be emanating from the bottommost region of his heart.

  He means it, she realized, stunned. He really means it.

  Suddenly, her anger with him was gone. She couldn’t even remember why she had been so upset. And then, without realizing what she was doing, as Shen stood there, pleading for her forgiveness, Sarah approached him and threw her arms around him. He put his strong arms around her, pulling her in tight, and—without either of them knowing what they were doing—their lips met just for a second, almost more of a tickle than a kiss. They paused, as if each was wondering what the right thing to do was. Each questioning what this meant and where this would lead—disaster, probably, thought Sarah.

  And yet, she kissed him, and he kissed her back. Passionately. Deeply. And he felt her strong hands slide along his back as she gripped the nape of his neck and pulled his head low, for her to reach.

  Sarah had kissed many men in her life, but none had felt quite like this. Not because of Shen’s inexperience—which indeed he was inexperienced—but rather because there was a kind of tenderness…a meaning behind the kiss. A feeling that made her want him with every inch of her body. She thought of tearing his shirt off and taking him then and there.

  But instead, they pulled away as the kiss ended. And that began a long, serious talk, one that lasted all through the remaining Red Shift and deep into Green Shift. But it was worth it. Every word.

  ***

  “Coming up on Gemini,” announced the Green Shift helmsman, a man named Mr. Tully. Like Calvin had commanded them to, they had summoned Calvin to the bridge once they were close. He had also called for his White Shift officers to report to the bridge, even though it wasn’t time for their shift yet. In the event that they did run afoul of the Dread Fleet, Calvin preferred to have his aces running the battle stations. So far, he was the first to arrive.

  “Tully, Harmon, and Petersen,” said Calvin, trying to commit to memory his Green Shift pilot, defense, and Ops officers.

  “Those are my boys,” said Rafael, who, despite being Calvin’s top analyst, was also one of the more senior ranking—and best trusted—officers on the ship, and so Calvin had asked Summers to assign Rafael command of the third watch.

  “Don’t you lot have first names?” asked Calvin. With only a few exceptions, Calvin always preferred to use given names. “You know what? Never mind,” said Calvin, knowing he would only forget. “Tully, Harmon, and Petersen it is.”

  “Yes, sir, as you say, sir,” said Mr. Harmon from the defense post. Originally, based on Summers’s reports, Mr. Harmon had been meant to replace Miles as the White Shift defense officer, and then later to replace Mr. Roy—who had been murdered by Pellew during the latter’s mutiny—and now Calvin had moved Mr. Harmon to the Green Shift, under Rafael’s watch. Red Shift, thought Calvin: Vargas in command, Jay Cox at the helm, Cassidy Dupont back at Ops—Summers had had Cassidy commanding the Green Shift, but there was no reason for a Midshipman to hold such a station—and Mr. Donaldsen at Defense. Then of course Green Shift: Rafael with command, Mr. Tully at the helm, Mr. Harmon at Defense, and Mr. Petersen at Ops. It was a lot to remember, but Calvin repeated the names another two times in his head—determined to commit them to memory.

  Most of the officers he thought about had been members of Calvin’s crew, and therefore had the benefit of Intel Wing training; however, a few of them, despite their standard issue uniforms, were clearly civilians adapting to military life. Too bad for them that Calvin was taking them into the hottest refiner’s fire itself, the untouched reaches of Polarian Forbidden Space. Calvin hoped they could learn quickly. He also thought they clearly needed more women on the Nighthawk, if all the bridge posts—except for Summers and Cassidy—belonged to men. Sure, they had plenty of female analysts, engineers, and medics, but Calvin would have preferred to have a bit more diversity in the command center of the starship itself.

  “Report, please, Mr. Petersen,” said Calvin, proud he could remember the name without hesitation.

  “We’ll be able to descend from alteredspace into Gemini System within five minutes,” said the Green Shift ops officer. “All systems are working within expected parameters and currently our stealth system is engaged.”

  “Thank you,” said Calvin. “Now tell me, what have we got on our scopes?”

  “There are several large objects in the system, most of them appear to be stationary or else in slow orbit around the main planet,” said Mr. Petersen.

  “Do we detect the Conglomerate?” asked Calvin, more to the point. What he wanted to know was, if the Dread Fleet had arrived, had the allegedly unstoppable force lain waste to what w
as surely one of the mightiest engineering marvels ever to grace the galaxy?

  “Sir, I detect nothing that large,” said Mr. Petersen. Calvin had expected as much, but it still upset him to hear it.

  “Goddamn barbarians,” he whispered, thinking that one of the jewels of the galaxy had been lost, and for no other reason than some kind of ill-guided religious fanaticism.

  “I’m sorry, what was that, sir?” asked Mr. Petersen, no doubt still thinking Calvin was addressing him.

  “Nothing,” said Calvin, adding, “what about ships? Do we see any?”

  “I am not detecting any starships using our long-range scanners,” said Mr. Petersen. “There could be vessels hiding near the star, in close proximity to a large gravity well, or otherwise distributed among the large objects that I do detect.”

  “Could those objects be starships themselves?” asked Rafael, who had taken the XO’s seat next to Calvin.

  “I don’t believe so, sir,” said Mr. Petersen. “At least, they are not behaving like starships. The objects are chaotically distributed, and those large enough to be starships that have also entered into orbit around the planet, they are not following any kind of standard orbit pattern that this ship recognizes. Instead, it appears to be disordered, with many of the objects at risk of collision with each other.”

  “It’s not the fleet,” said Calvin, turning to look at Rafael. “It’s debris.”

  “You don’t think—” Rafael’s voice drifted off.

  “Three minutes until arrival,” announced Mr. Tully. Calvin looked at him. Aside from being one of the larger and sweatier people on the ship, there was something else off about him. Something that made him seem not a proper fit for that chair. It wasn’t that his large, bulbous head seemed to bend the headset he wore, Calvin decided, it was something else. After a few seconds of analyzing the junior pilot, Calvin figured it out; the man was terrified.

  “I’m guessing the Dread Fleet will be long gone by the time we arrive,” said Calvin. He spoke generally, but mostly to assuage the concerns of his junior pilot.

  The elevator door slid open and Summers entered, followed by Shen, Sarah, and last to exit, Miles.

  “Sorry that we’re late,” said Summers, “that one made us hold the elevator for him,” she nodded toward Miles.

  “Hey, it just made sense,” said Miles as he approached the Defense station. His attention shifted from Summers to Mr. Harmon, who currently occupied the station. “Hey, you,” said Miles, forcing Mr. Harmon to turn and look up at him. “Beat it,” said Miles, raising a thumb over his shoulder in a gesture that said, in no uncertain terms, leave.

  “But the captain,” said Mr. Harmon, looking confused.

  “It’s all right,” said Calvin. “Mr. Tully, ETA?”

  “A little over one minute,” said the large, junior pilot.

  “Perfect,” said Calvin. “Green Shift, you are dismissed.” With that order, those occupying the Bridge’s primary stations got up and stood aside, allowing Sarah—who wiped off the headset before donning it—Shen, and Miles to take their rightful places.

  While the junior officers made for the elevator, Calvin stopped Rafael from leaving. “I’m sure you’re tired,” prefaced Calvin, “but I’d prefer it if you stayed, at least until we see what we’re dealing with.”

  “Of course, sir,” said Rafael. He, nonetheless, gave up the XO’s chair for Summers, and instead moved to Calvin’s right, taking the usually unoccupied 2O’s position.

  “ETA twenty seconds,” said Sarah, adjusting her displays and controls back to her liking, an action that all the Bridge officers seemed to be doing.

  “Initial scans don’t show any sign of the Dread Fleet,” said Calvin, getting the others up to speed.

  “How do we know that?” asked Shen, “if we don’t know what we’re looking for.”

  “Right on the nose, as usual,” said Calvin. “Since we don’t have much intelligence regarding the composition of the Dread Fleet, we cannot rule out the possibility that they remain in the system—or that some of them do.”

  “They could be hiding on the far side of the star, or deep inside a gravity well,” suggested Summers, an obvious reference to the queen’s own tactics against the Rotham fleet—which had proven both successful and disastrous once the Thetican star had collapsed in a seemingly physics-defying shockwave that had destroyed much of the queen’s fleet, along with most of the remnant of the Rahajiim fleet.

  “That they could,” admitted Calvin, liking that his top officers seemed sharp and full of ideas. “Which is why, Miles, it is critical that you keep an eye on our stealth system and keep it engaged—no matter what we see—unless I command otherwise.”

  “Of course, Cal,” said Miles, who appeared to be finished tweaking his controls back to his liking.

  “Five seconds,” said Sarah, counting down. “Four. Three. Two. One.”

  The stars appeared, filling their view, and, in the distance, one red star seemed much brighter than the others—but still remained at such a distance that it looked barely the size of a golf ball.

  “How deep are we inside the system?” asked Calvin.

  “Far to medium depth,” Sarah answered inexactly. “I thought it would be best to give us a buffer of space—just in case. Directly to starboard is Gemini Five—a gas giant. It should help disguise us in case our stealth fails.”

  “Probably a good idea,” admitted Calvin. “But go ahead and navigate the ship closer; I don’t think our stealth is compromised in any way—is it, Miles?”

  “Nope. The stealth system is running like a champ.”

  “Very good,” said Calvin. “Go ahead and bring us to Condition One; we’re not sure what we may be dealing with yet.” The Gemini System was home to two rocky planets and three gas giants. Gemini Five, the outermost planet, was a supergiant, which was likely why Sarah had chosen to bring them into the system near it—its massive gravity well would help to hide a single starship, even if it wasn’t enough to hide a squadron, let alone a fleet.

  “Aye, aye,” said Miles, inputting the order, filling the lower decks with alarm lights and the ship’s klaxon.

  “All hands to General Quarters,” ordered Summers, talking into the XO’s comm panel.

  “I’m not looking for a fight,” said Calvin, to clarify. “Not here. But just in case one finds us, I’d like to be ready.”

  “Just say the words,” said Miles. “And I’ll drop stealth, raise the shields, and clear for action.”

  “Thank you, but not yet,” instructed Calvin. He knew Miles preferred to charge into situations with weapons armed and asking very few questions. Calvin, on the other hand, preferred the cautious approach, especially when he didn’t know what they were up against. “Sarah, is there any comm activity on short range?”

  “Negative,” said Sarah. “The entire system appears to be silent as a mouse.”

  Calvin knew that was bad news. Between the few outposts on the surface of Gemini Two—a rocky planet that had once been the only inhabitable planet in the system—and the massive superstructure that orbited the planet, a network of interconnecting orbital cities that was home to over three million people, there should be signs of regular communication over short range, and the system should be busy with lots of traffic, mostly shuttles and transports. So far, the Nighthawk saw nothing and heard nothing, making this one of the more eerie encounters Calvin had ever experienced.

  “Continue to bring us in closer,” said Calvin, “I want to do a close flyby of Gemini Two; let’s see what happened to that Conglomerate.”

  “Aye, sir,” said Sarah.

  “Shen, continue to monitor the scopes, see what kind of picture you can get and feed that to the 3D display. If you detect any ships, shuttles, or transports, display them and tell me right away.”

  “Will do, sir,” said Shen.

  The Nighthawk turned, moving the Gemini star out of view of the main window as the ship accelerated, likely to the maximum velocity
their sublight engines allowed—even though the distant stars appeared to remain stationary, making Calvin feel as though the Nighthawk wasn’t moving at all.

  “Sarah, continue monitoring short range communications; if you catch so much as a basic transmission—even if it’s static—I want to know about it,” said Calvin. Between the two of them, scanning for small craft and basic communications, if any of Gemini’s three million inhabitants was alive, those measures should detect them. The fact that they were moving deeper and deeper into the system and not hearing or seeing anything gave Calvin a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  We were here, he thought, recalling the time he’d ordered the Nighthawk to arrive at Gemini, along with Raidan’s Harbinger and other ships loyal to his Group. We took on new supplies and even a few fresh faces—including some of the Green Shift officers he had dismissed. Calvin had needed to replace the officers he’d allowed to leave. They had parted ways here, booking shuttles to Capital World…shuttles that had proven doomed from the start of their journey—all except for the shuttle Rafael had taken. Such unnecessary slaughter had been courtesy of Raidan.

  “Do you remember?” Calvin whispered to his right.

  “I remember,” said Rafael in a cold, neutral tone, one that deliberately masked the emotions he must be feeling.

  “I am able to get a good scan of the Conglomerate now,” said Shen. “Or rather…what’s left of it.”

  Calvin had expected to hear such news—he had known the large objects detected from alteredspace in chaotic orbit had been debris from the Conglomerate—but hearing it confirmed by Shen, from an up-close view, still felt a bit like getting punched in the stomach.

  “Display it,” said Calvin coldly.

  The 3D display lit up, showing the mostly-desolate planet, Gemini Two. It looked the same, the planet was essentially uninhabitable the last time they’d been there, what was different was the notable absence of interlocking, individually propelled sky cities that formed an intricate, and movable, web orbiting the planet. Instead, there were bits and pieces, all completely separated from each other, orbiting patternlessly.

 

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