THE PHOENIX REQUIEM
By Richard L. Sanders
Copyright March 15, 2015
The Finale of The Phoenix Conspiracy Series
Version 1.0
Version 1.0, License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. It may not be re-sold for profit, however I (the author) don’t mind if you share it with others—especially since I don’t believe in DRM. Just keep in mind that at the time of publication I am an indebted student and every purchase is greatly appreciated. Also I request that you please not make it available for torrenting. Thank you for your support and understanding.
Note to the reader: this is Book Seven in a series of Seven books. If you have not read the first book The Phoenix Conspiracy it may be found for free in the download store and on my own personal website.
THE PHOENIX REQUIEM
This is where the price is paid. This is where the blood flows. This is the end, the apex, the resolution.
The final Reckoning!
CHAPTER 01
Death. Destruction. Debris. Raidan had seen his share of such things. Hell, he’d been responsible for his share of such things. But this? This was something new. Something different. Something worse…
“It appears to have been a battle, sir,” said Mr. Mason. “And a rather one-sided one, by the looks of it.”
“This was no battle, Mr. Mason,” said Raidan, folding his arms. “This was…senseless butchery on a colossal scale.” He looked at his second in command as he spoke, then gazed past him out the windows, as the Harbinger yawed hard to port in order to avoid collision with the ruined husk of yet another human battleship.
“Scan has a match,” reported Mr. Ivanov. “It’s the ISS Marlin.”
“It was the ISS Marlin,” said Raidan, catching a glimpse of the vast debris cloud surrounding the ruined husk as the Harbinger’s spotlights illuminated it. “Now it’s just wreckage.”
That could have been us had we gotten here faster, he thought, as he stared at it. Maybe it should have been us…Whoever the officers were that had crewed the Marlin, they’d deserved a better fate than this. Sure there was honor in dying in the field, but to be slaughtered to a man and with nothing to show for it; it seemed a tragic waste.
Brave defenders of the Empire, I will honor you, Raidan thought, as the remains of the ISS Marlin slipped out of view.
“Add it to the list,” said Raidan, “Then give me the count.”
“That makes sixty-three that we’ve been able to identify, sir,” said Mr. Ivanov. “But, given the amount of debris in this system, most of it of human origin, I estimate the loss of starships to be much, much higher.”
“As do I,” said Raidan with dark tenor.
“It’s a bone-yard out here,” said Mr. Demir.
“That it is,” Raidan agreed.
“I think it’s safe to say that the Dread Fleet left behind no survivors,” said Mr. Demir.
“We will continue to comb the system searching for survivors until I command otherwise,” said Raidan. He had gotten here too late to help, but if there remained something he could do—even saving just one life—he would scour the system for that opportunity. Although, in his own private thoughts, he knew Mr. Demir was right. The scene before them was not one of tactical conflict, rather it seemed more like a scourging.
Raidan’s eyes flicked to the 3D display, which showed the planet, Centuria V, in vivid and grotesque detail. Where once had been a thriving world, covered in glittering cities, emerald forests, and sapphire oceans, was now a scorched, bombed-out wasteland. Entirely unrecognizable.
Even if no one had survived the space battle, where the Imperial fleet had clearly failed in its defense efforts, surely someone on the planet must still be alive, Raidan had thought. But Mr. Ivanov had insisted that it was not possible. So thorough and devastating had been the Dread Fleet’s assault on the planet, their countless ships showering hell from orbit, that the very landscape and atmospheric conditions of Centuria V had been so drastically altered that no life could survive. “Everyone down there is either dead or dying,” Ivanov had told him. “All eight billion of them, and anyone we send down there to try and help will only risk meeting the same fate, even in climate gear.”
Raidan had seen a planet bombed before, usually to force it into submission, or to eliminate static defenses on the world’s surface, but never had he seen a planetary assault of this nature. A callous, almost ritualistic cleansing away of all things ordered, all things built, and above all—all things living.
“Goddamn barbarians,” Raidan muttered under his breath, and he averted his gaze from the 3D display. He felt a surge of guilt pour through him, knowing that he had failed to arrive in time to help with the defense, and now countless Imperial citizens had been brutally massacred; but, by the looks of the debris in the system, Raidan doubted that even the mighty Harbinger’s battlegroup could have made much difference. For every twenty human ships they could confirm destroyed, they could only find the remains of one Polarian ship. This battle had been over before it began. And now the rest of the Imperial fleet had disappeared—no doubt recalled by the Queen—and as for the Dread Fleet, Raidan shuddered to think what its next target might be. There were any of a dozen systems that could easily be reached from here, including Capital System itself.
“Move us deeper into the wreckage,” said Raidan. “Stay true and only divert course to avoid—”
He was interrupted by Mr. Gates. “Sir,” he said with urgency. “Incoming message. It’s a distress call.”
“I knew it,” said Raidan. “Someone is alive. Pinpoint the source.”
“The distress call is not originating from within this system,” said Mr. Gates.
“Then where?” asked Raidan.
“The signal is coming in with highest priority, repeating on all channels and frequencies…Sir, it’s Capital World.”
Raidan felt a sinking feeling. He glanced momentarily back at the 3D display, then imagined the unparalleled metropolis that was Capital World being reduced to ash and rubble, just like Centuria V. And, of course, it helped nothing that Raidan himself had personally eliminated most of Capital World’s defenses…not that any would have been a match for the Dread Fleet.
“Shall I display the message?” asked Mr. Gates.
He didn’t have to. Raidan already knew what it would say. But he gave the order all the same. “Display it.”
Queen Kalila appeared on the viewing screens; she was sitting on a throne in what looked to be the Keep of the Old Quarter, probably because the Imperial Palace had been destroyed. She looked as well-composed and commanding as ever, but Raidan detected a hint of terror shining in her otherwise unwavering eyes as she spoke.
“I am Queen Kalila Akira, the monarch of the Empire and this is a general order to all starships, to all citizens, and an urgent request to anyone else within the sound of my voice. Listen carefully. Our very Empire is at stake. We are at war with an alien force that has already destroyed two Imperial star systems, and which dealt significant losses to the remaining Imperial Fleet. Even as I speak, that alien force—the so-called Dread Fleet,” she said the name with venom. “Is making slow but steady progress toward Capital System itself. If Capital System falls, our seat of government will fall, and the Empire will swiftly collapse. The Dread Fleet must be stopped here and allowed to go no further! I order, implore, ask, and beg anyone who is listening to immediately proceed to Capital System and join us in our defense. For together we may stand, but apart we shall surely fall. Make haste, please. For the Empire.”
&
nbsp; The message terminated.
“Well, you heard our sovereign,” said Raidan. “Set course for Capital System at once, maximum possible jump depth.”
“Aye, sir,” Mr. Watson acknowledged.
“Captain, if I may,” said Commander Mason. “Is it wise for us to go to Capital System?”
“Of course it isn’t wise,” snapped Raidan. “It’s probably suicide. But I’d rather die with a sword in my fist defending this, our Empire—our legacy—until my last breath escapes me, rather than watch it all burn. And I’ll be damned if any of you have plans otherwise!”
“I didn’t mean that, sir,” said Commander Mason. “Just that…we’re wanted criminals. Worse, actually. We’ve been declared enemies of the state. If we appear at Capital System, then any civically minded Imperial must seek to do us harm if they are able. Will we not be jumping into a fight, or a slaughter—should we choose not to fight back?”
Raidan considered it. “Hold the course,” he said. “And make the jump as quickly as possible. Also, order the entire battlegroup to do the same.” He knew that Commander Mason had a point, and he honestly wasn’t sure what to expect when they arrived. It could very well be that Capital World—which had recently been attacked by the Harbinger and its battlegroup—might perceive their presence as an additional threat. They might be offering their throats to the butcher’s knife by returning to Capital System. Then again, to do nothing would mean Centuria V all over again—except on a far greater scale. The stakes were too damned high, and there were too many lives on the line; indeed, the very future of humanity was hanging in the balance, and Raidan would be damned if he let the Dread Fleet, or anyone else, tear down and destroy all that he held most dear.
“Aye, sir,” Mr. Gates and Commander Mason acknowledged, clearly trusting him. Or else having done the same calculus that he had. We have to help and they would be fools not to accept our help, thought Raidan. And if they think we have returned to pick a fight, then it will be my job to convince them otherwise…somehow.
Ultimately, he placed his faith in the wisdom of their clever young queen, who surely would realize that, in the hour of greatest need, Raidan and his cohorts could be relied upon as much needed allies, not more enemies. Now he just had to hope that, however fast the Dread Fleet moved, the Harbinger and her battlegroup moved faster.
“Sir, incoming message from the Thunder Sun,” said Mr. Gates.
“On speakers,” said Raidan. Then, once he heard the crackle of the line connecting, he said, “Make it quick. We’re about to jump.”
“So all of you humans are going to answer the queen’s call and try to defend your homeworld?” the voice on the other end belonged to Zarao, leader of the lycanthropes.
“It is not technically the homeworld of all of us, but it is our home in a sense, and therefore we must defend it. You understand that, having just reclaimed your own home,” said Raidan.
“Clear to jump in ten seconds,” Mr. Watson mouthed to Raidan.
Raidan nodded. He needed to end this communication quickly. “But don’t worry; my deal with Tristan is satisfied, no debts remain outstanding on either end. You are all free to return to Remus System, or wherever else you wish to go. I will not ask you to come and die with us.”
“I respect that you do not ask,” said Zarao. “But to abandon a friend such as you in such a manner, knowing you seek only to defend your home,” he made a guttural sound, clearly expressing disdain. “I cannot abide it. It would be a Strigoian thing to do. And we are not Strigoi! I, and all that are mine, we will join in battle with you against your foes. Against this Dread Fleet.”
Raidan felt a wave of gratitude, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Zarao knew exactly what he was signing up for. “You realize if you stand with us, you’ll likely fall beside us,” said Raidan. “We are not expected to survive.”
“If we fall, then we fall with honor upon the bed of glory. But if we win the day, then we do so as blood allies.”
“And you’re sure that is what you and your people want?” asked Raidan.
“If you will have us. Then we will stand beside you, as brothers.”
“In that case, I’m glad to have you. Jump for Capital System and we’ll group up there.”
“And then what?” asked Zarao.
“And then…we take our chances. Together.”
“We will share our glory, Asari Raidan, and we shall feast upon the blood of our enemies. Tristan was wise to choose you for our ally.”
“And I was lucky to find him and the rest of you. But now it is time we jump,” said Raidan, knowing he was clear to jump and not another second should be wasted.
“Indeed. See you on the other side, my brother,” said Zarao. “May we reap a slaughter unlike anything the galaxy has yet seen as we sow death upon all who dare stand against us.”
“My sentiments exactly,” said Raidan. He then ordered the channel closed.
“All ships report ready to jump on your command,” said Mr. Gates.
Raidan gave the 3D display one final glance, taking in the image of the savaged Centuria V once more and made a silent promise to himself that he would never allow such a thing to happen to Capital World. No matter what it cost him. No matter who he had to kill. No matter what. He would defend his Empire.
“Jump now.”
CHAPTER 02
It had been just over two hours since they’d passed through the mysterious shroud the Polarians called the Veil. In most of that time, Calvin had remained relatively silent at his seat in the command position, thinking to himself how strange and surreal the experience had been, passing through the Veil, and wondering what other untold mysteries Polarian Forbidden Space held.
To his curious mind, being here, in this region of space, was a dream come true. And yet the very profound, unknown nature of Polarian Forbidden Space made it equal parts captivating and dangerous. As much as he wanted to explore each of the small clusters of stars that existed within the Veil, he knew he had to remain true to their mission. Besides, the mission was taking him to the Forbidden Planet itself, and really, wasn’t that the crown jewel of all the unanswered questions that surrounded Polarian Forbidden Space?
Calvin suspected the greatest mysteries, and the greatest dangers, lay ahead of them. He knew things were going to get ugly, one way or another, and in those split seconds when a choice needed to be made—one that might be the difference between life and death—his crew would need him to be ready. He only hoped he was up to the challenge. Fortunately, he had Rez’nac by his side. Calvin had insisted that the Polarian remain on the bridge, so he could benefit from whatever knowledge Rez’nac had regarding their cryptic destination. For that matter, he’d kept all his senior staff on the bridge, knowing they were fast approaching their destination and, once they got there, there was no telling just what they’d be up against.
“Status report,” said Calvin, mostly to break the silence. By his estimate, given the course Rez’nac had provided, they would be arriving soon.
“Weapons and shields are currently disarmed,” said Miles, “But I’m ready to activate them at a moment’s notice.”
“Good. And the stealth system?” asked Calvin.
“Operating like a champ, as usual,” Miles grinned.
“All systems and power levels are running within expected parameters,” said Cassidy from the Ops station.
“All flight controls read normal,” reported Jay from the helm. “Currently we’re in alteredspace following the course given to me by our Polarian friend here,” he gestured toward Rez’nac, who sat in the 2O’s chair on Calvin’s right. “Jump depth of ninety-five percent potential, stable and holding. ETA fifteen minutes.”
Calvin felt a jolt of nervous energy at the announcement of their ETA. He knew his crew depended upon him to be ready to handle anything—and he could scarcely imagine just what would be waiting for them. Definitely something. That much he was sure of. He wondered if the Nighthawk’s famed stealth system
would protect them, or if it would fail, as it had so many times in the past, in the face of newer scanning technologies. Despite their many marvels, the Polarians tended to lag behind on basic tech, and Calvin hoped that stereotype held true at this the heart of hearts that was the Polarian Forbidden Planet.
“Very good,” said Calvin. “Cassidy, have any of our long range scans revealed anything about the region of space we are targeting?”
“Negative,” she said, after looking at one of her many screens. “It seems that even inside the Veil the Polarians have some way of scrambling long-range scans.”
“Or at least scans of the Forbidden System,” mused Calvin.
“Jay, let me know when—” Calvin begin to say, before being suddenly interrupted.
“Wait a minute, sir, I think I’ve got something,” said Cassidy.
“What is it?” asked Calvin, practically jumping to his feet to go and hover over the Ops terminal. It was difficult for him to make sense of the outputs on the various displays.
“Hard to say,” said Cassidy. “It should be our first earnest glimpse of the Forbidden System, but there appears to be a large, ring-like structure surrounding the star.”
“A ring?” asked Calvin, trying to imagine how massive such a structure would be. A mere speck when compared to the Veil, but for it to be an artificial construct, it would defy even the most modern marvels of engineering, considering the amount of materials that would be required to surround a star.
“More like a matrix of rings,” clarified Cassidy. “The system is surrounded by something.”
“A Dyson Sphere?” asked Calvin with genuine intrigue.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Cassidy. She adjusted her scan, clearly trying to get better data. “Ring was the wrong word, as was structure; I can’t explain it, but there is something surrounding the Forbidden System. That is why we cannot get a proper scan.”
The Phoenix Requiem (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 7) Page 1