“I wouldn’t recommend trying that,” said Rafael.
“Why not?”
“Our missiles are gone, our guns are empty, and our beam weapons dissolved when we made our alteredspace jump.”
“You’re telling me we have no weapons?”
“We used them on that hangar door,” said Rafael.
“Dammit,” muttered Calvin, he looked over the controls, clearly looking for another option. “What do you recommend?”
“Me?” asked Rafael. He had no idea. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. He’d expected Calvin to magically come up with some great solution, just like he always did.
“Time to interception?”
“Ten seconds,” said Rafael.
“Get ready to practice your best Rotham accent,” said Calvin.
Rafael nodded, putting the headset on.
“Three seconds. Two. One.”
Their ship shuddered and Calvin yanked on the yoke, trying to keep their jump stable. It did no good, however, and the blackness of alteredspace vanished, replaced by a picturesque view of stars out the windows.
“We’re being hailed,” said Rafael, noting the blinking light on the console.
Calvin nodded. “I’ll hold her steady; you see if you can smooth talk us out of this one.”
“Understood,” said Rafael. He accepted the hail.
“Heave-to and identify yourself,” said the Rotham voice on the other end in Rotham. “Or we will fire on you.”
Rafael covered the mic. “They are ordering us to stop, or they'll shoot us down.”
Calvin brought the ship to a stop, obviously looking worried.
“This is shuttle Explorer I,” said Rafael, inventing the ship’s moniker then and there.
“Explorer I, identify your command ship and current mission.”
“Our command ship is…” Rafael struggled to think. “Supercruiser the Dauntless,” he struggled to say the word. “Our mission is to survey Praxis System and report.” It was the best reason he could think of on the spot for why they were nearly across the DMZ, with a heading which clearly indicated Imperial space.
There was a pause on the other end. Rafael didn’t like it. He could tell they weren’t buying into his story. On the 3D display, he watched the sentry ship slowly close in on their shuttle.
He covered the mic. “I don’t think they’re buying it,” whispered Rafael to Calvin.
“Explorer I,” came the voice on the other end. “Hold position and prepare to be boarded.”
Rafael terminated the call. “Yeah, they didn’t buy it,” he said. “They’re en route to board us.”
“Shit,” said Calvin, rapidly accelerating their shuttle. “Shields.”
Rafael raised the shields just as they took a hit from the sentry ship’s energy weapon. “Down to sixty-five percent,” said Rafael.
“I’m going to jump back into alteredspace,” said Calvin, charging the drive.
“They’ll just force us back,” said Rafael.
“Well, we’ve got to do something. You just keep those shields up!”
“Aye, aye,” said Rafael, funneling power out of all their other systems and forcing the shields to divert their strength aft. They took a second hit. “Shields at thirty percent and falling.”
“Clearing to jump,” said Calvin.
They took a third hit. The sentry ship was right on their tail. “Shields are gone,” said Rafael. “And the generator is offline, I’d guess permanently.”
“Jumping,” said Calvin. The stars vanished, replaced by blackness. “Let’s see if we can’t shake them.” He used the yoke to simulate divert a random alteredspace course.
It didn’t work. A moment later, the ship was forced back into normal space, stars reappearing in all the windows.
“Damn,” said Calvin, starting to engage in evasive maneuvers. “See if there’s anything you can do.”
They took another hit and the lights flickered.
“What’s going on?” asked Miles. Rafael turned to see both Miles and Rez’nac had entered the cockpit.
“We’re under fire,” said Rafael, just as they took another hit. Entire systems were going offline. “We’ve lost navigation.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Calvin. “Route everything you can to shields.”
“Shields are permanently down.”
“Then send it all to navigation!”
They took another hit. Rafael did as he was told, routing all available secondary and tertiary systems to the shuttle’s thrusters, overpowering them to get a temporary burst of speed. But even as he did it, he knew it was futile.
“Brace yourselves,” said Rafael. “I’m about to pull gravity.” He and Calvin strapped in, Miles and Rez’nac grabbed for whatever they could. The two of them began to float as the artificial gravity disappeared.
They took another hit. Again, the lights flickered as power was nearly lost to all systems.
“Can you give me anything else?” asked Calvin.
“Comms are down. Everything is down,” said Rafael. “We have thrusters and life support.”
“Then drain life support,” said Calvin.
“If you say so,” Rafael diverted the power out of life support and fed it to the thrusters.
“If we’re going down, so are they,” said Calvin, flipping their vessel around. They could now see the sentry ship in their window. It made for an imposing figure, growing in dominance as they rapidly approached.
“We can’t take much more,” said Rafael.
“Gentlemen, it was a pleasure knowing you,” said Calvin.
“Likewise, sir,” said Rafael, bracing himself, ready to meet his ultimate fate.
The sentry ship fired on them one more time. The flash was blinding and nearly disintegrated the shuttle, whose hull integrity was on the verge of collapse.
“Here goes nothing!” said Calvin, as they closed the distance.
Rafael coughed and started to feel lightheaded. He knew their oxygen was rapidly depleting, not that it mattered now…
Without warning, the sentry ship burst apart into a million pieces. Calvin yanked the yoke, jerking the shuttle hard to port to avoid a spray of debris.
“What the hell?” asked Calvin.
“I have no idea,” said Rafael, staring at his various blank screens. “I have no systems.”
“I don’t…” said Rez’nac, then his eyes closed and he let go of the wall, floating there, either unconscious or dead. Rafael didn’t see any signs that the Polarian was still breathing.
“It’s the air,” said Rafael. “Polarians need more oxygen than we do.”
“What are our O2 levels?” asked Calvin.
“Not a clue,” said Rafael. Normally it would be easy to check, but with all systems offline it was anybody’s guess. “But I’d say we’re breathing in nothing but nitrogen and carbon dioxide at this point.” The lightheadedness grew worse and his vision darkened momentarily.
Calvin continued to spin the shuttle around, yawing to port and pitching upward, looking for what had destroyed the sentry ship.
Rafael felt his consciousness slipping in and out. He looked over and saw Miles had let go of the fixture he’d been clinging to. He, like Rez’nac, was now floating freely, eyes closed.
“We’re done for,” said Rafael, feeling himself losing the battle to remain vigilant. His consciousness seemed to fade in and out. The last thing he saw was Calvin, still pulling diligently at the stick, looking determined.
Then everything went dark.
***
Since the Organization’s inception, Raidan knew only of three instances when the Forum had been imposed. The first time had been to formalize the creation of the Organization. The second and third times had been to deal with a crisis of leadership involving multiple Group Leaders. Now this, the fourth time, would be the last time. Raidan didn’t know that for sure, but in his gut he was convinced, especially if his appeals were ignored and he and Mira were forced to
take drastic action.
The option had always been there on the table. It was the brainchild of Mira Pellew, and an example of how conniving and dangerous she was, but it was never an opportunity Raidan had wanted to pursue. Mira wanted to do it, he knew; she had then and still did now. She was virtually frothing at the mouth in anticipation of what she expected to happen. Indeed, what was likely to happen, much to Raidan’s chagrin. Yet, if it proved necessary, then it was necessary, and he would shed no tears about it.
Fortunately, the option had never been something Mira could attempt alone. She wasn’t a Group Leader and, although she’d strung together an impressive network of influence inside the Organization, she lacked the actual authority to impose the Forum, just as she lacked the actual authority to arrange any kind of meeting with White Rook. There were certain things Group Leaders could do, according to the Organization’s few but strict bylaws that other members, no matter how influential, no matter how powerful, could not. Which was why she had approached Raidan originally.
He’d been a new Group Leader then, the newest in fact, and so she’d wrongly predicted he was an easy target for manipulation. That assumption had cost her his trust, permanently, but it had not cost her his ear. Raidan was willing to listen to anyone, including his enemies, perhaps especially his enemies and, as a result of that, he and Mira had struck up a kind of secret alliance of convenience, one which Raidan had always believed, and hoped, would never be necessary. Against Mira’s arguments and pleadings to the contrary, Raidan had always resisted her urges to exercise the option. And, too bad for her, she’d chosen to approach him about it and so could not approach another Group Leader seeking the same arrangement. If Raidan so much as sniffed she was up to such a thing, he'd promised her he would expose her immediately. And so it had proven for the greater good she’d chosen him to discuss the option rather than, say, his predecessor, that backstabbing opportunist Zander, who likely would have jumped at the chance.
But now the dice had been thrown and he'd used his authority, and Mira’s network of influence, to impose the Forum upon the entire Organization. Recalling all its Group Leaders, its officers, its ships, and all its personnel who could reasonably attend.
These days, those numbers were fewer and less impressive than when the Organization had been at its height combating the Phoenix Ring at every level. Now all that remained to it were six Groups, with six Group Leaders; a combined total of forty-one warships, including the Harbinger, which was easily the predominant vessel, plus some thirty support ships; fewer than two hundred spies; about fourteen thousand starship personnel and officers; three superweapons, two mutagenic and one chemical; plus eight thousand soldiers; a mere twelve remaining safe havens; combined liquid assets of about four billion Q; and one increasingly cautious leader.
And now they met deep inside the Nemesis Cloud, a vast field of rocks, ice, and dust that surrounded the dark star Vega Mortem. Among the debris was a field of large asteroids, some as large as 1,000 kilometers in diameter. They were spread apart as one would expect of an asteroid belt, so distantly that the odds of blindly flying into one were about one in a million. But what made these asteroids so wonderful, aside from their size and density, was no one of them stood out against all the thousands of others. Many of them shared that greatly desirable characteristic which, because of their massive density, they had, or nearly so, standard planetary gravity. Which was why, when the Organization had set out to build its most clandestine base, it had chosen one of the many nondescript asteroids in this field, a place no one would look and, even if they did, no one would find anything.
Now the seventy-one ships were massed together around Anubis, the asteroid which held the secret base, and delegations from every ship had gone down by shuttle through the massive airlock doors and docked with the port. From there had been a short journey to the Great Concourse, where the elite stood in positions of honor, elevated on the sides. This included Raidan, the other Group Leaders, and people of great influence such as Mira, along with each starship’s CO. The remainder of each delegation stood below. On the highest platform was White Rook, surrounded by her honor guards. Her ebony face was difficult to discern from where Raidan stood, but her clothes, a hooded white-silk uniform, made her easy to distinguish.
“To all the loyal officers and subjects of The Organization, you who have made it possible for us to defeat The Phoenix Ring and restore order to the Imperial government, I welcome you to this Imposed session of the Forum of the Organization,” said White Rook, addressing them all via a lapel mic.
“There is no order in the Imperial government,” shouted Raidan, interrupting White Rook. It was a bold move, but not an unprecedented one; she'd been interrupted before at past sessions of the Forum, though not usually so quickly into her address. But Raidan knew, for this to work, he had to assert himself fast and quickly. He needed to be listened to by the others and, should White Rook fail to cooperate and the option be exercised, he needed to be seen as her counterbalance, as a strong force to be reckoned with, so the other Groups would fall into line. This was something he deeply believed they would do, based on his personal association with each of the other Group Leaders, many of which agreed with his call for stronger action to be taken.
“I recognize Group Leader Asari Raidan,” said White Rook. “It is he who has imposed this Forum now, so it falls upon him to raise his grievances and see if we recognize them. Should we do so, it will then be up to us to find a solution to correct them. Asari Raidan, stand forward and be heard.”
Raidan took several steps forward until he was against the railing of the balcony on which he stood. He could be seen by all the Organization now and had made himself, unfortunately, a possible target for one of Mira’s snipers, although he did not believe she could dare act against him until the option had been exercised. For although she commanded a great number of loyal supporters inside the Organization, so did Raidan. And should he fall to her prematurely, his people had strict orders to oppose Mira and her people, and in the ensuing chaos the option would certainly fail and that would be the end of the Organization once and for all.
“Brothers and sisters of the Organization,” he said, loudly and clearly, aided by a lapel mic of his own he’d brought. “Fellow Imperial citizens. Humans. Our noble Empire bleeds. There is war from Eurosis to Tarsonis. There has been bloodshed, human against human, Imperial against Imperial, in the Apollo System. Bloodshed which has taken the lives of hundreds of thousands of brave and noble officers of our military. A savage and regrettable carnage that has lost humanity our Yards and cost us a combined number of some four hundred ships of war.”
“Was it not you who destroyed the Yards?” shouted Beniah Aaron, another Group leader, from across the concourse.
“Yeah,” chimed in Jackson Abel, yet another Group Leader. “You fought in that battle, you helped to shed that blood. How dare you come before us and decry your own actions?”
“I come before you to plead that we join our forces and take swift and decisive action that will save the Empire!” he said. “I did destroy the Yards to prevent the usurper Caerwyn Martel from using them to crush the queen. It was a regrettable action, and one that will cost us in our war against the Rotham, and in our war against the Dread Fleet, should rumors across the Polarian border be believed.” He paused briefly for effect. “Yes, I tell you the Dread Fleet is on the move. Even now it is scourging and destroying Polarian systems and forces in a vile effort to purify their species and uphold their religion. They would fire on their own, slaughtering entire worlds full of innocents, including children, women, and the weak and disabled who are unable to defend themselves. They who have committed no crime but to show a lack of faith in their own religion.”
“These are just rumors,” shouted Beniah. “There is no evidence to substantiate them.”
“How could there be?” challenged Raidan. “As entire words fall to the deathly Dread Fleet, beginning with Polarian worlds far from us, h
ow would we know for certain? How would we see the devastation? Have you, sir, been so deep inside Polarian space that you know there is no Dread Fleet and no slaughter?”
“No, I haven’t,” the man admitted.
“Then we must rely on the intelligence of our spies and trust there may be credibility to these unfortunate rumors,” said Raidan. “Trusting that the Dread Fleet will not come for us is to be fools and to choose death.”
“And if they do come for us, what then?” asked Maria Zaman, a third Group Leader. Raidan had anticipated objections and challenges from all three, though he believed the other two were solidly in agreement with his thinking. “We cannot hope to stop them. They'll put us and our worlds to the torch and that will be the end of the Empire.”
“We have a chance to stop them,” said Raidan. “To give up now is to lose by default. Whatever may come for us, whatever dangers are lurking, we must do all we can to stand against them.”
“We are but seventy-one ships of war,” said Beniah. “The Dread Fleet commands thousands. How are we to stand against such a force?”
“We must be more than seventy-one ships,” said Raidan. “We must unite the Empire and end this Civil War before more Imperial blood is spilt. We have to combine our forces with the Imperial fleets, which must be brought together and, under Queen Kalila’s undisputed reign, the Apollo Yards may be rebuilt, we can have every shipyard across the Empire producing ships, and we can make our stand against the enemies which threaten us.”
“You speak of these things as though they be trivial matters, as though we have the power to enact them. Clearly, we do not,” said Jackson. There were murmurs of assent from the gathered officers who stood below.
“We are not so powerless as you would believe,” said Raidan.
“And what of the Rotham fleet that bears down against the queen even as we speak?” asked Beniah. “The queen and her force may be entirely devastated against them and we will not be there to help her survive, because you have imposed this Forum and now all of us are here, away from the battle.” More murmuring.
The Phoenix Darkness Page 38