The Phoenix Project

by Kris Powers

  THE PHOENIX PROJECT

  The Phoenix Project

  BEING THE FIRST PART OF

  THE PHOENIX CHRONICLES

  BY

  KRIS POWERS

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

  All rights reserved.

  © Copyright 2012 by Kris Powers

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  CHAPTER XI

  CHAPTER XII

  CHAPTER XIII

  CHAPTER XIV

  CHAPTER XV

  CHAPTER XVI

  CHAPTER XVII

  CHAPTER XVIII

  CHAPTER XIX

  Prologue

  “The entire fleet’s gone?” Ranik asked. He peered over Lathiel’s shoulder and focused his slit, copper eyes on the small screen.

  “Every last ship was destroyed,” Lathiel replied. He discerned distant pieces of burning wreckage floating through space. The debris was all that remained of their Ferine fleet. Lathiel thought of all his friends, even family, who had just given their lives in one last effort to defend their home world.

  “They didn’t last fifteen minutes!” Ranik exclaimed.

  “We’re not soldiers and our fleet was outnumbered fifty to one.”

  “I had friends on those ships,” Ranik said. A look of grief wrinkled his aging features.

  “So did I. We don’t have any options left. We have to use our ancestors’ weapon.”

  “The recoil is still a major problem. We’re going to lose a lot of people here.”

  “All of our defensive lines have been breached, Ranik. This is all we have left.”

  “I used to look up into the night sky on our home world before you were even born. Every evening I’d see a big crater on that giant rock of Helas so far up in the sky and know that it was this station. I never thought we’d ever come here.”

  The two Ferine watched the monitor showing the enemy fleet closing in on their home world while they watched from their safe vantage point on Helas. Others rushed around behind them in the small command post located at the top of the cannon’s wide maw. They hurried to ready the relic for a task it was supposed to have undertaken a millennium ago.

  “The Nevargh fleet is nearly in range of the weapon. Bring the generators to maximum power,” Lathiel commanded.

  Ranik shook his head and headed to a nearby console from a bygone era. The moment he arrived at the console he flipped several switches and a distant rumble was heard from deep within the planet.

  “They’re nearly within optimum position,” Lathiel said. “There are millions of the dead from across the Old League who would cheer right now if they could.”

  “I still can’t believe they betrayed us. We trusted them. The entire League trusted them.”

  “And we paid for it. They’re in optimum range. It’s now or never.”

  “Do you want me to do this? You’re young, Lathiel. I don’t want you to be responsible for something this destructive,” Ranik asked.

  His finger hovered over the button that would activate the antiquated cannon. Lathiel imagined he could see the shadows of his ancestors walking across the room in agitation. He consoled himself with the thought that at the very least, they weren’t going to use it against their own species, as was the original intent a millennium ago. “I volunteered to lead this mission. This is my responsibility and I will pay for what I do here.”

  “Not alone,” Ranik said.

  Lathiel pressed the button. A moment later the floor jumped from the jolt of the cannon’s waking. Lathiel lost his balance as the ceiling began to cave in.

  A deep crater marring the mother—world of Helas began to glow. The Nevargh armada passing Helas didn’t notice the massive emerald circle on the barren planet’s surface as they closed in on its orbiting moon of Cartise. The bare rock around the impossibly wide chasm began to tremble. As the quake intensified, great cracks in the surface formed around the circular mouth of the weapon. Without further warning, it belched a great firestorm of emerald energy at the enemy armada. The deepest night turned into blinding starlight. The fleet dissolved in the apocalyptic weapon’s brilliance. Not satiated and far from spent, the blast continued into the void and tore through the space—time continuum.

  The bright comet of destructive energy vanished from that part of the galaxy.

  The space—time continuum erupted into chaos outside Earth’s Solar System. It writhed from an enormous power eager to manifest itself. Nearby, the Coalition’s sensor platforms sparked as an intense tidal wave of gravity radiated out from the distortion.

  The argument of stagnancy in the century long cold war between the Alliance and the Coalition has been heavily debated within historical venues. What the detractors don't understand is that we don't refer to the incredible advances due to the arms race, but due to the lack of advances in the economic and social structures of both sides.

  I therefore submit that it was due to these factors that the Council was intent on altering the balance of power. What happened afterwards was serendipity not of their making. How could it have been?

  Analysis of the One Hundred and One Year Cold War

  by Margaret Strait

  Chapter I

  The Alliance Nine O’clock Shuttle arrived at Space Station Alpha orbiting Earth from which a sea of navy blue and polished rank pins flowed onto the pressurized deck. A single officer shifted away from the migrating group, and took an elevator to a deck five floors from the peak of the station’s summit.

  Three gold stars adorned each side of the raised collar on the man’s uniform, indicating the rank of Vice Admiral. Elliot Fredericks carried a suitcase filled with paper thin electronic documents intended for his superiors. The links held every last detail of the project that he had headed for the last ten years.

  Elliot accepted the project a few months after his last command of the Norfolk had expired. He vowed never to command another ship again after that day. Elliot’s desk job had earned him his last three promotions and a place of respect within the Alliance forces.

  He exited the elevator and took the familiar path to Maria Peterson’s office down the wide, curving corridor. Reaching the double—door entryway to Maria’s office, Elliot took a moment to ensure his dark hair was straight and strode across the threshold just before the doors moved out of the way upon detecting his approach. A young adjutant sat at a desk in the small waiting room.

  “Hey Lieutenant,” Elliot said. The lean man looked up from his work.

  “Hello Sir,” the man said with a warm smile. “Admiral Peterson had something unexpected come up and asked you to wait a few minutes.”

  “No problem,” Elliot replied. He took a seat on a tan couch on one side of the room.

  “What kind of game are you playing now?” the Coalition General demanded. He was dressed in an olive tunic adorned with three gold stars on each side of his collar.

  “General, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. All I know is what I was told. You wanted to discuss the Hades Three Sector and I accepted your signal. So, what’s the problem?” Maria asked.

  She tried to avoid the Coalition General whenever possible. He had stared at her chest whenever they both h
ad attended an event. Maria was surprised that he was actually looking her in the eye across the monitor’s live feed.

  “You know damn well. Why would you damage our sensor buoys?”

  “Well, it’s quite simple,” Maria replied.

  “Yes?”

  “We didn’t damage your sensor buoys,” Maria said.

  “Then who did? There isn’t an Easter Island Agreements to blame everything on anymore, so who else could have fired on them?”

  “It wasn’t us. We don’t have any ships in that area of space and it has no tactical value to us,” Maria replied.

  “If you say so.”

  “What do you want, General?”

  “An apology for starters.”

  “I won’t apologize for something we didn’t do.” Maria paused and put a hand to her brow. “How many sensor arrays are we talking about anyway?”

  “You know damn well how many.”

  “Humor me.”

  “Two.”

  “That only covers a few thousand cubic kilometers of empty space outside the solar system. If you’re so insistent about explanations, I’ll send a ship to investigate,” Maria placated.

  “We’re already sending warships to find out what you’re up to.”

  “Then you won’t mind if we confirm it,” Maria said.

  “Fine. I’ll be happy to have one of your ships there when we expose your sabotage. INN will hear about this.”

  Maria rolled her eyes at the reference to the Interplanetary News Network. “Then my government will sue for libel. It’s been nice talking to you and I’m glad that you’ve finally noticed what color my eyes are.”

  “What?”

  “Goodbye, General,” Maria said, and deactivated the link. She pressed a small button on her obsidian desk.

  “O’Toole?”

  “Yes, Admiral,” a voice replied immediately.

  “Send in Admiral Fredericks. Tell him I want good news.”

  “I’ll try to deliver,” Elliot said as he walked into her office.

  “Have a seat,” Maria said with a gesture to one of the two chairs in front of her desk. She had chosen their pale blue color to accentuate the deep, obsidian glass of her desk. Elliot sat down on one and pulled a short stack of paper—thin links from his suitcase.

  “Construction is right on schedule.”

  “That’s great.” Her brow furrowed under a mane of long dark hair. She leaned over her desk. “Eli, I just had the strangest conversation with a Coalition General."

  “And?”

  “He’s convinced we damaged a couple of their sensor arrays.”

  “Where?”

  “Somewhere in the backwoods of space outside of the solar system. He even threatened to go to the networks,” Maria replied.

  “What did you say?”

  “What do you think? We have nothing to do with it, but I’m sending a ship out there just to be sure. The truth is that he got me curious enough to find out what caused it,” Maria replied.

  “Could they have malfunctioned?”

  “The Coalition may be behind us in technology, but it’s still pretty dependable,” Maria said and stared for a moment into empty space. “Anyway, you have reports for me.”

  “Right here,” Elliot said, placing the electronic papers in front of her.

  “So give me the details. Are the ships still in pieces all over the system?”

  “Not as many. The engines are still being constructed on Ganymede, but should be completed in eight weeks. The shield generators on Titan are finished and will be integrated with the hulls on Mars in two weeks,” Elliot reported.

  “And the hulls? How far along are they?”

  “The shipyard’s master tells me that they’re about ninety percent complete with about sixty percent of their equipment installed,” Elliot replied.

  “What about the weapon systems on Luna?”

  “They’ll be finished tomorrow. We’re getting ready to ship the first hundred in a few hours,” Elliot replied.

  “Good. They’re not much good to us as warships if they don’t have any weapons.”

  “I guess not, Ma’am.”

  “I’ll just sign off on these and we’ll have you on your way,” Maria said.

  She grabbed the pile of links that he had deposited on her desk. True to her word, Maria took the next half hour asking questions about the various links in her hands and once she was satisfied with the answers, signed off on them.

  Elliot took the links off her desk and stuffed them back into his suitcase. He thanked her and left for the return shuttle to Saturn in order to get the shield generators ready for shipping. It was then that Elliot remembered that he still had business to take care of. It had been too long since he had stopped in on Joshua and Madison. The thought of seeing them again brought the usual coiling in the pit of his stomach.

  They were his wife’s friends from ten years ago and, yes, they were his as well, but the death of Lillian had soured the relationship. They were two friendly couples, and then one of the couples became a widower. Elliot had gained command of the Suffolk after the Norfolk’s loss and was glad to have both Madison and Joshua serving aboard the same ship at first. To his surprise, there was little to talk about once the mourning period was over and sitting in silence around a table in the officers’ mess showed that the dynamic of the group had been irrevocably damaged. Elliot had asked for reassignment to groundside duties within a month.

  He paused outside the entrance to Maria's office, unsure about visiting them. An expression of indignant indecision appeared on his face. No, it would have to be this time. The last time was well over a year ago. Madison would be furious with him.

  Elliot found himself walking on autopilot. He was already halfway to the elevator that would take him back to the outbound shuttle for Saturn. With an abrupt about face he turned and stalked toward the elevator that would take him to the Alliance's Third Battle Group.

  Once again he found himself embarking on a sleek, grey shuttle bound for somewhere other than home. Sitting down in the mildly claustrophobic passenger shuttle, Elliot thought of excuses to offer the couple after his long absence.

  "You can always find the time when you want to,” Madison would probably say.

  He didn’t really have an excuse other than his reluctance to take part in a long expired friendship with people that reminded him of his deceased wife.

  Elliot looked up from musing to discover that he had already exhausted the short trip to the Allied Warship Endeavour.

  He rose from his seat with care to avoid the low ceiling and made his way to the exit for Joshua's ship. The half a mile long Victory Class Cruiser had wide, thick wings with a central tapering neck. The warship looked like a massive grey metal eagle ready to pounce.

  Elliot disembarked and worked his way through corridors and lifts until he was at the threshold of the bridge. He gathered a deep breath and walked through the parting doors to the command center.

  The large rectangular bridge had a series of consoles with embedded displays. A large weapons station was next to him. The station existed as a claustrophobic gathering of displays and monitors that faced the large screen on the other side of the bridge. The weapons officer looked up from his work.

  "Admiral on Deck!"

  Some thirty officers, including his friends, rose to attention. Joshua was at his customary position in the command chair, located in front of the weapons station. Madison stood to his right as first officer. Three silver bars adorned each side of her collar.

  “At ease,” Elliot said. The officers and enlisted men immediately went back to their work.

  "Sir?” Joshua asked.

  "Josh, it's okay. This isn't an official visit. You can call me Eli."

  "Haven’t seen you in a while, Eli,” Joshua said in his Southern drawl.

  "I’ve been a little busy with the Horizon Project. I’m sorry I didn't drop by sooner."

  “You haven’t dropped by in almost
a year,” Joshua mumbled.

  “Josh,” Madison said from his right. She stared directly into his blue eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “Shut up,” she said, tousling his blond hair. “He’s here now.”

  "It is good to see both of you again.”

  “You felt obligated to come and meet some old friends,” Madison said. “Come here.”

  She embraced him in a warm hug and then pulled back.

  "We’re almost done our shifts. Would the handsome Admiral care to see our new officers’ mess? It was renovated six months ago and I think you’ll like it.”

  Elliot inwardly balked at a half—hearted conversation over drinks but accepted in spite of his misgivings. Joshua stood up from his seat and looked to an officer at a nearby station.

  “When does Lieutenant—Commander Scott arrive for his shift?”

  “In five minutes, Sir.”

  “Can you handle the bridge for five minutes Sub—Lieutenant?” Joshua demanded of the frightened man.

  “I,” he hesitated before remembering his training. “Yes, Sir.”

  Joshua gave him a quick nod and led the party off the bridge. The couple led him through several arched hallways painted in matching colours of cream and light grey until they found themselves in a lift, which took them from the centrally located command deck to the very top of the ship.

  Elliot was impressed by the sight that awaited him. The newly renovated officers’ mess was spacious and comfortable. The large room was about two hundred feet long and half that wide. The warm burgundy walls were a good twenty feet high, affording the far wall's tall windows a panoramic view of the full length of Endeavour’s hull. Distant stars glittered beyond the ship’s dorsal armour.

  The trio found a plush, three—sided booth on a middle rise, facing the spectacular view and sat down. A head waiter saw the small group of high ranking officers and immediately went over to take their orders.