The Phoenix Darkness

by Richard L. Sanders

  “Always the balance has been as it should, the Dark Ones in the dark, and the Polarians in the light. Neither one can destroy the other. For such is the way of the Essences. That is, until recently.”

  “What’s happened recently?” asked Calvin, believing now he was going to get into the actual substance of the matter.

  “There has been a schism within the Polarian religion,” said Rez’nac, much to Calvin’s surprise. “We are forbidden to speak of it, even to acknowledge it. But there have been many from the light who have chosen the darkness. And they now follow the god of the Dark Ones. These who abandon our ways, they wish to shift the balance. They hope we will abandon the truth of the Essences and accept their false demon god. Of course, any true Polarian cannot do such a thing. We cannot even think to do such a thing. That is how serious the crime is. Yet many have gone over to that side, abandoning the light.”

  “So, as a reaction to this schism,” said Calvin, “there have been some from the light,” for simplicity he borrowed Rez’nac’s own words, “who have become extreme in their ways. Like your son, Grimka and many of his cohorts.”

  “Yes, perhaps it is so,” said Rez’nac. “I had thought as much when I used to be of the Essence of Khalahar. But, now that I am fallen, I am unsure if I was correct. Perhaps the Ones-Who-Must-Be-Blue are right in their extreme ways. Perhaps faith and diligence of their kind is what is needed to stop the corrosive influence of the Dark Ones on our people. I do not know.”

  Calvin decided to let the question of who the Ones-Who-Must-Be-Blue slide, thinking Rez’nac probably referred to some extremist culture among the Polarians. Calvin remembered how Grimka and the more extreme Polarians had a much brighter, bluer hue to their skin and the more conservative ones, like Rez’nac, appeared almost equally grey as blue. Instead, he asked, “Rez’nac, if the Dark Ones are the enemy, why do you call yourself a Dark One?”

  “I am not a Dark One, I am a dark one,” said Rez’nac simply. Calvin did not distinguish any difference.

  “You’ll have to explain it a little better than that, I’m afraid.”

  “To lose your Essence is to become fallen, like into a pit. In the pit there is no light, it cannot exist, and so you are alone wandering in the darkness without light. That makes you of the dark, in your language, a dark one. But those who are the true Dark Ones, they have not fallen and become lost inside a pit as I have. They've been born of the Darkness or else have chosen the Darkness, seeking it out deliberately wanting to kneel before their singular god. That is the difference.”

  Calvin understood, at least as well as he could have, without experiencing this culture firsthand. “Well, I think it’s pretty obvious what we need to do,” said Calvin.

  The other two looked at him.

  “We need to get inside Polarian Forbidden Space and investigate what the connection is between the Rahajiim, the Dark Ones, and the Council of Prelains. Once we uncover it, we expose it.”

  “Sounds simple enough,” said Rafael with just a hint of sarcasm.

  “Rez’nac, if we were to go into the Forbidden Space,” said Calvin. “I would need you to go with us. Are you willing to help us with such a mission, even though bringing humans to that place is a great taboo?” Calvin needed to know Rez’nac could be relied upon.

  Rez’nac considered it for some time before replying.

  “Yes,” he said, eventually. “I would go and I would serve. And I would guide the humans, so long as you are there to find the connection you spoke of and to expose it for all the galaxy to see. And that is your sole purpose among those stars.”

  “I swear it,” said Calvin.

  “Then you have my word, for whatever it’s worth,” said Rez’nac. “I will guide and help you until my bones break and my blood runs dry or until we achieve our goal, whichever comes first.”

  “Hopefully the goal,” said Calvin.

  “That just leaves us with one logistical question,” said Rafael. “How are we going to steal a Polarian ship and get over there?”

  “Oh, we’re not going to steal any Polarian ship,” said Calvin. “I’m done dealing with this alien garbage; no offense, Rez’nac. We’re taking the Nighthawk.”

  ***

  “My lookouts confirm; the king’s fleet is on the move,” said Sir Daniel.

  “Must we call it that?” asked Kalila, with some measure of disdain. “I recognize no king, and therefore recognize no king’s fleet.” She stood in the planning chamber aboard the Black Swan surrounded by her top military advisors, the Joint-Knights-Commander and, at her request, Captain Adiger.

  “My apologies, Your Majesty,” said Sir Daniel. “I meant to say, the usurper’s fleet is on the move. Spies among them confirm what we’ve suspected all along.”

  “They intend to strike Ophiuchus,” said Kalila knowingly.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” said Sir Daniel. “Not only do they intend to strike there, Caerwyn Martel intends to take over the system. He is said to be massing his entire fleet for the operation.”

  “We shall not allow that system to fall,” said Kalila. The loss of Ophiuchus, which remained her best resource endowed, most productive system, would be a tremendous blow to her cause and a massive gain for the enemy. Even though she was loath to commit to a full scale engagement against the rival Imperial fleet again, the losses at Apollo remained staggering, she knew she had no choice. Ophiuchus must be held at all costs.

  “I believe if we rally our forces now,” said Sir Reginald, “we will arrive first. That would give us time to set up a proper defense. With any luck, the usurper will think twice before committing his fleets to such an engagement.”

  “I agree with your assessment,” said Kalila, looking at the maps on the table. By all appearances, her forces should be capable of reaching the Ophiuchus System first, even if Caerwyn had already marshaled his fleets and given the order to attack. She also believed that, with the help of the local defenses, any battle in that system would greatly favor the defender.

  “I would prefer the enemy did engage us there,” said Sir Andris. “We could hurt them two for one; the longer the enemy stays in the engagement, the greater our victory and advantage in future combat.”

  While that was true, Kalila would prefer not to have any future battles between Imperial forces, whether they be loyal to her or rebels. The fact remained that the truest threat lurked on the far side of the DMZ, a host of Rotham warships Calvin had promised would be on its way. An enemy Kalila had believed all along would come knocking on their door. Even though there had yet to be any signs of imminent attack, other than Calvin’s warning long ago that the Alliance had fallen, opening the door for the possibility of invasion, although no invasion had yet been detected.

  “Any battle against the usurper, no matter how favored our forces are, would be costly to the Empire,” said Kalila. “It would be better that we chase off Caerwyn Martel’s ambitions by a show of force in Ophiuchus and avoid the fight altogether.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Sir Reginald.

  “Your Majesty, if I may,” said Captain Adiger. “There is also the option of counter attack. We could send a sizable host to defend Ophiuchus, say half our forces. That ought to be sufficient to hold the system, if only just so, then the rest of our forces could be deployed against Olympia, or Iridia, or Galo, or any number of core systems belonging to the usurper. We should be able to stave off his attack, while simultaneously taking a system for ourselves, granting us one step closer to victory.”

  Kalila nodded. “While that is a good plan,” she said. “I fear if we only send half our strength to Ophiuchus, it will induce the enemy to attack the system.”

  “That is what we’d be hoping for,” said Captain Adiger. “If the enemy host is committed to battle there, they would have no chance of withdrawing to aid against our attack.”

  “But if the enemy is committed to battle in Ophiuchus,” said Kalila, “then there would certainly be a battle, and a costly one at that. I would
prefer to minimize further loss of ships and lives for either side in the interest of the Empire.” Should the Imperial fleets become further diminished, she feared there would be little left for her to command once she took the throne on Capital World, and she would be unable to resist the advances of the real enemy, the Rotham.

  “As ever, I respect Her Majesty’s noble wishes,” said Captain Adiger. “But I am concerned that, in the necessary course of war which has been laid before us, it will prove impossible to end this conflict without further significant loss of lives and ships. Whether at Ophiuchus or somewhere else, I believe battle is unavoidable.”

  “You may be right,” said Kalila. “But I would still prefer a diplomatic solution. Every day, new worlds are brought to our side of the conflict and new representatives are appointed to the Royal Assembly. If only Caerwyn’s primary supporters defected to our side, we could defeat him without further bloodshed.”

  “A noble ambition, Your Highness,” said Sir Daniel. “However, we are only making small gains, of late, in acquisition of new worlds through diplomacy. And all such gains have been from neutral systems or among magistrates who have switched allegiances. They have been ones who were never particularly happy with Caerwyn Martel. At this point, any systems that are unwilling to recognize him as king have already come over to our side. The rest remain loyal to him, at least until we smash his forces and demonstrate the superiority of our cause.”

  Kalila hoped the man was wrong, but believed him to be right. She'd always known, since the Martels had shown their true colors, Caerwyn would find some way to claim the throne for himself. And, when he did, that battle would be inevitable. Hopefully, after one thorough, decisive engagement, the rest of the Empire would see him as the weak, cowardly usurper he was and lower his standard in favor of hers. If only there existed some way to have such a stunning victory without causing significant losses to either her forces or the opposition.

  “I would have cake and eat cake also,” she said, mostly to herself.

  “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?” said Sir Reginald, looking confused.

  “What I mean is, I would have the throne but wish to keep the Imperial squadrons intact and battle-ready on either side of this conflict. For, once I put an end to Caerwyn and the throne is indisputably mine, there will be no enemy Imperials. We shall all be one great, glorious family, an Empire no longer divided. To maintain the strength and integrity of such a house, we must have forces enough to intimidate the enemy. We cannot reduce ourselves through further conflict such as we experienced at Apollo.”

  “Your Majesty is wise,” said Sir Reginald. “But I fear her noble aims may well prove impossible, as Captain Adiger has already stated.”

  “We need a decision, Your Majesty,” said Sir Daniel. “I would know how I ought to deploy my forces. The options lie before you. Shall we marshal all our forces and send them to Ophiuchus to deter or defeat the enemy, whichever they would have, or shall we divide and split our forces between attack and defense?”

  He looked at her expectantly. They all did, all her knights, even the quiet ones. They each had forces which belonged to them that they’d sworn to her service, and now each of them needed further instructions on how and where to deploy their ships.

  “We shall go to Ophiuchus System,” said Kalila. “All of us together. If that intimidates the enemy into withdrawing from battle, all the better. We shall have protected our most important system and done so without any loss of life. And should the enemy choose to cross blades with us there, we shall give them better than they give back to us. Two to one, you say? I believe we can make it three to one once we show them the ferocity of our people!”

  The knights let out a cheer. She was about to dismiss her council of military advisors when a yeoman sprinted into the room, looking winded and panicked. “I have an urgent message for you, Your Highness.”

  “Speak,” commanded Kalila. There were standing orders not to interrupt her when she met with her Joint-Knights-Commander, which was likely why no message had been broadcast over the intercom, but in times of emergency there were exceptions.

  “Word has arrived from our forward listening posts,” said the yeoman, looking terrified.

  “Which listening posts?” asked Kalila, feeling a sinking sensation inside her and knowing the answer before it came.

  “The DMZ, Your Majesty,” said the yeoman.

  “And what do they detect?” she asked, hoping against reason that it was a small force, perhaps a mere patrol that had gone astray, or a scouting party which wished to observe the Empire’s defenses along The Corridor.

  “A fleet, Your Highness. At least three hundred warships. And probably more.”

  Damn! So Calvin’s warning had finally proven true. The Rotham fleet was on its way, no doubt led by the ambitions of the Rahajiim. And three hundred warships, and probably more…there was no system in The Corridor which could hope to repel such an attack…

  “And have we ascertained their likely target?” asked Kalila. She needed to know where the Rotham were going to strike if she was to be able to mount a proper defense. That meant being there before the enemy arrived.

  “No, Your Highness. It is impossible to tell. There are dozens of systems inside The Corridor that will be within striking range of the Rotham fleet. Any one of them could be the target.”

  Damn. Damn. Damn. “Thank you, yeoman, you may go,” said Kalila. She ran her hands anxiously through her hair and looked back at the strategic maps on display before her.

  “I take it this means Your Highness has changed her mind about her deployment orders,” said Sir Reginald.

  Kalila did not answer right away. To commit her forces to defend The Corridor, that was her duty as the monarch; she must protect her people. Even though she didn’t know precisely where the enemy would strike, which meant she could expect no advantage in the upcoming battle. If anything, she could anticipate arriving too late. Yet she could not abandon her people. But if she sent her fleets to defend The Corridor, what did that mean for her core worlds against the usurper…?

  “We have to defend against this Rotham invasion,” said Kalila, believing there was no other choice.

  “But, Your Highness, what of Ophiuchus? What of the usurper’s imminent attack?” asked Sir Daniel.

  “We cannot abandon Ophiuchus altogether,” said Kalila, in agreement. “But neither can we abandon The Corridor to alien invasion.”

  “If I might make a suggestion,” said Captain Adiger. “We could do as originally planned and defend Ophiuchus, preventing the near enemy from capturing our most prized system. Meanwhile, should any invasion by the Rotham occur inside The Corridor, the people would blame Caerwyn for that, at least as much as they would blame you. Our strategic position would not be weakened.”

  “But our people would be slaughtered!” said Kalila fiercely. “I cannot abandon my people to the Rotham. I will not.”

  “Then you would have us deploy our fleets inside The Corridor,” said Sir Reginald. “Ready to defend against the invasion.”

  “Yes,” said Kalila. “I would.”

  “But that would mean losing Ophiuchus System to the usurper,” said Sir Daniel.

  “If that is the price, then we shall be forced to pay it,” said Kalila.

  “If we lose Ophiuchus, we’ll lose the war!” insisted Sir Daniel.

  “If we lose The Corridor, we’ll lose the Empire!” Kalila fired back, giving him a look of such intensity that he immediately cowed before her.

  “So then, it is decided,” said Sir Andris. “We shall marshal all our forces and make for The Corridor, right away.”

  “Not quite,” said Kalila, staring back down at the strategic maps below. “We still cannot abandon Ophiuchus to the enemy without sending them some kind of help. One of you must take your fleet and help to bolster their defenses.”

  “But, Your Majesty,” said Captain Adiger. “Anyone who would do so, they will surely fall in battle against the
usurper.”

  “That may be so,” said Kalila. “Yet we cannot set a precedent of abandoning our worlds that are threatened. Even if we lose the system with the fleet defending it, we must show the rest of our loyal worlds we will endeavor to defend them.”

  “Even at the expense of defeat?” asked Sir Reginald.

  “Even at the expense of defeat,” said Kalila.

  “Your Highness, with all the respect in the galaxy,” said Sir Andris, “I must advise against this plan. We should not divide our forces, nor should we fight two enemies along two different fronts. It is better strategically to either commit all our fleets to defend Ophiuchus System or to commit us all to defending The Corridor. To try to do both, forgive me, is madness.”

  “It may be madness,” said Kalila. “But we have no choice. We must divide our forces accordingly. The majority of our strength will go to The Corridor to repulse the Rotham invasion. One of you will lead a fleet to Ophiuchus System to show the galaxy we protect our own, and to make Caerwyn Martel think twice before attacking.”

  Her knights looked at her. She could tell many did not agree with her strategy, but they stood there obediently, notwithstanding. “Our best hope,” said Kalila, “is to arrange for a ceasefire with the usurper in the interest of protecting our Empire.” She turned to Captain Adiger. “Go to the Bridge and see that news of the Rotham invasion is spread far and wide. Call for a ceasefire with Caerwyn Martel, ask him to join us in The Corridor, under a banner of truce, that we may repel our common enemy together.”

  “At once, Your Majesty,” he said, then he was off.

  “With any luck,” said Kalila, “there will not be a battle at Ophiuchus System. However, if there is, it falls upon one of you to lead the defense there. Are there any volunteers?” She looked at her knights, knowing she was asking one of them; essentially, to step forward and agree to suicide. Therefore, she was not surprised when none of her knights volunteered. They were each noble, loyal, and trustworthy, but they also had a sense of self-preservation and none wanted to volunteer to die for the cause. Even if, by the end of it, death was the price required of them. Clearly none of them welcomed it, which meant it fell upon her to choose.