“Something?” asked Calvin. He turned to Rez’nac. “Can you explain this? Is it another Veil?” Calvin tried not to estimate the astronomically minute odds that a phenomenon such as the Veil could exist twice in nature.
“It is not like the Veil,” said Rez’nac, remaining in his seat. He folded his arms. “What your scanners are detecting are the Forbidden Planet’s many defenses.” He stopped there, as though that was sufficient explanation.
“ETA seven minutes,” said Jay.
“Many defenses?” asked Calvin. “Like what kind of defenses?”
“I do not know them all,” said Rez’nac. “But I would say all kinds of defenses.”
“That’s still too vague for me,” said Calvin. “If we’re about to arrive and have to contend with these defenses, I need some clue as to what they are. Surely you can help me out more than that.”
Rez’nac nodded, “I will try. The Forbidden System hosts several planets, but only one of them can support life; that is the Forbidden Planet. Around the Forbidden Planet is a spherical debris field of rocks and asteroids, even some minor planets. These objects orbit the Holy Star as certainly as the Forbidden Planet.”
“So the structure Cassidy detected, that was really just a bunch of rocks and debris?” asked Calvin.
“Four minutes,” said Jay.
“Lower us to eighty-percent potential,” said Calvin, knowing that, although time was of the essence, he couldn’t just fly the Nighthawk into this system without extracting everything he could from Rez’nac regarding whatever opposition they were about to face.
“Yes, there are many rocks, as you say it, very rich with ores and metals, and quite densely packed. Unlike most asteroid fields, where the asteroids are many kilometers apart, these are closely packed, and dense,” said Rez’nac.
“Too closely-packed to get the Nighthawk through?” asked Calvin.
“No,” said Rez’nac. “Ships come and go to the Forbidden Planet—but only according to the wishes of the Council of Prelains.”
“Are these asteroids manned, or do they house automated weapon systems, or something?” asked Calvin, remembering what Rez’nac had said about defenses.
“Many of them, yes. Though it is the small planets and moons that are the main concern,” said Rez’nac.
“These planets and moons, they are part of this debris field?” Calvin wasn’t quite sure how that was possible, thinking the planets and moons would have been pulverized by meteor impacts over the many billions of years.
“Many are,” said Rez’nac. “They are inhospitable for life, but some of them have defense stations. Those stations are what power many of the traps.”
“I’m sorry,” said Calvin. “Traps?”
“Yes, there are many guns, mines, and traps, all spread throughout the meteor sphere, with only a few safe passages through.”
“But you know what those passages are?” asked Calvin, seeking reassurance.
“I do not,” said Rez’nac.
“But the Nighthawk’s stealth system should help us avoid being recognized and targeted by these guns, mines, and traps,” said Calvin, again seeking reassurance.
“It might,” said Rez’nac. “For the guns. As for the mines, it depends which type of mine—some of them are set-off by proximity—”
“Fine, we’ll just steer clear of those,” said Calvin.
“Easier said than done,” said Rez’nac, “Since many of them are designed to be as undetectable as this ship.”
“Stealth mines?” asked Calvin, feeling his stomach turn over.
“Nothing this ship’s scanners couldn’t detect,” said Cassidy, sounding skeptical.
“More like camouflaged mines,” said Rez’nac. “You’ll know what I mean if we strike one. Pray we do not.”
“I thinking praying is your department,” said Calvin. “What I need is a safe course—or at least a projection of what is the likeliest safe course—through this debris field, so we can reach the Forbidden Planet.”
“Sir, ETA five minutes,” said Jay.
“Decrease alteredspace depth even more,” instructed Calvin, sensing that he clearly needed more time to figure this out—and finding himself wishing he’d had this discussion with Rez’nac earlier. The large Polarian warrior, for his part, seemed annoyingly nonchalant about it. Either he trusted in his Essences to deliver them, or else had accepted his fate long ago—the prospect of being destroyed by these weapons and traps did not seem to alarm him the way it alarmed Calvin.
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Jay. “But we will be arriving soon, unless you order us to a full stop.”
“Stay on course,” said Calvin, “But drop into the outskirts of the system—keeping us well clear of the asteroid orb—and then bring the ship to a full stop.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Rez’nac, can you provide my pilot with the safest probable course through the asteroid orb, so that we can reach the Forbidden Planet?”
“I can do my best,” said the Polarian warrior. “My recommendation is to avoid the most obvious paths—those are likely to be the best defended—and instead bring the ship close to one or more of the minor planets.”
“I thought you said those minor planets had defenses on them,” said Calvin.
“They do, but because of the nature of those defenses,” said Rez’nac, “I anticipate that intruders will be expected to steer clear of them—which means the best laid traps will be far from the minor planets. Just don’t go so close that the ship is spotted.”
That made enough sense to Calvin that he gave the order. “Jay, set course through the space junk as Rez’nac dictates, pass within short range of any minor planet he identifies, but don’t stray into visual range.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“If we are meant to succeed at this mission,” said Rain, her voice deliberately soothing. “It is hard for me to imagine that we will have come all this way only to be stopped by some asteroids.”
“The human healer is wise,” said Rez’nac. “Ultimately, we must rest our fate in the hands of the Essences and pray that, though we tread unworthily upon sacred ground, our mission is one of glory and not of darkness.”
Calvin didn’t know what to say except to nod. These religious-types of platitudes may have been a source of comfort to the others, at least some of them, but they felt empty to him. If they were to succeed, they would do so based on their own decisions, their own cleverness, talent, determination, and of course luck, since there was no way to take into account all of the many variables. Calvin caught a glimpse of Summers’ furrowed brow to know she agreed with him. Fate wouldn’t be their salvation today.
“Sir, we’re dropping out of alteredspace,” announced Jay. Then, a moment later, as Calvin watched the window with bated breath, the blackness was replaced by the glitter of stars. In the distance, and seemingly partially obscured, was a large purple star that stood out against all of the others. Calvin knew it for what it was—the local sun. The parent star of the Forbidden System. “We have arrived at the distant outskirts of the Forbidden System.”
“So I see,” said Calvin. “And just how far away are we from the asteroid sphere?”
“Several million MCs, sir,” said Jay. “I kept us as far away as I reasonably could. Like you ordered.”
“No doubt for the best,” said Calvin. “Cassidy, begin a scan of that asteroid sphere and see what our scanners can pick up. In the meantime, feed that information to the helm computer, and Rez’nac, you, Jay, and myself will plot a course safely through the asteroids, defenses, and debris, right up to the Forbidden Planet itself.”
“Aye, sir,” his people acknowledged. Calvin moved to the helm, where he, Jay, and Rez’nac immediately began to discuss their options, just as fast as Cassidy could send them waypoints—possible routes that would allow the Nighthawk through the tightly-packed rocks and space-junk. On first assessment, the more formidable-looking routes were those that promised to take their ship near any of
the small planets and moons, but, Calvin supposed, Rez’nac was probably right that for that same reason they would prove to be the safest paths.
“I’m detecting several things within the debris cloud,” said Cassidy.
“Protective asteroid sphere,” Rez’nac corrected her.
“Fine, protective asteroid sphere,” said Cassidy. “There are multiple star bases, a few patrol ships—though surprisingly few—”
“That is because most every ship has gone to join the Dread Fleet,” said Rez’nac.
“Be that as it may,” said Cassidy. “There are a few still here. Their patrol patterns seem to be routine, no sign that we’ve been detected.”
“That’s good at least,” said Calvin. “What else do you see?”
“A lot of mounted weapons on space junk, some obvious mine fields, and scanners of every stripe searching everywhere for everything—and hopefully unable to find us.”
“Miles, how is our stealth system?” asked Calvin.
“Still good, Cal. Still good,” the big man leaned back in his chair, the paleness of his face revealed his anxiety, but the rest of his body seemed to be making a show of false confidence. Calvin knew him too well to be fooled, however.
Don’t worry, Miles, thought Calvin. I’ll get us through this, just like always.
“Rez’nac,” said Rafael, who had remained thoughtfully silent until now. “Just what are all these defenses for?”
“To keep Forbidden Space forbidden,” said Calvin automatically, as if the answer were obvious.
“Isn’t that what the Veil is for?” asked Rafael. “I mean, isn’t the rest of this a bit…unnecessary?”
“These defenses serve the same purpose as the Veil,” confirmed Rez’nac. “But it is not to keep Forbidden Space forbidden, as our master suggests. Rather, it exists, as does the Veil, for a far more important purpose than to keep away the Rotham and the humans—though, as unclean beings, it serves that function too. But, far more important than that, these barriers exist to keep out the Dark Ones. The Fallen Ones. The Betrayers of the Light and Defiers of the Essences,” Rez’nac spoke with contempt as he named these enemies. “The Abandoned Ones. The Deserters. The Outcasts. And everything else that emerges from the shadows that would corrupt our ways and poison our traditions.” Rez’nac spat blue bile. “Those Evil Ones who would take away our lives, and worse—our souls—by leading us away from the truth of the Divine Essences. Such an evil is a threat to everything sacred, and any who would bring it must be kept away and never spoken of.”
Calvin was almost taken aback by the passion in Rez’nac’s voice. He knew that the Polarian hated the dissenters within his own religion, the so-called “Dark Ones,” who had very likely infiltrated the Polarian hierarchy and were, Calvin remained convinced, responsible for the launch of the Dread Fleet, but to Rez’nac the conflict was much deeper and even more personal than Calvin had imagined.
“And yet, despite these many defenses, we’re pretty sure these Dark Ones are already here,” said Calvin. “And have taken a foothold. He wanted to remind Rez’nac why they were there, and to help him focus on helping Calvin and the crew of the Nighthawk—by reaffirming that they were all there to fight the same enemy. So long as Calvin’s theory about the infiltration of the Dark Ones proved correct.
“Yes,” admitted Rez’nac. “They must be here. That is the only thing that makes sense. Though I do not understand how they did it…”
“Any luck isolating the best course, yet?” asked Calvin. As he studied the maps on the helm display, several potential paths were lit up, along with corresponding waypoints. Jay had struck several of the options, at Rez’nac’s instruction. That still left a few dozen, however.
“I believe I have determined the best course,” said Rez’nac. “It keeps us clear of the star bases, away from the known mine fields, and brings us around the grey dwarf planet here,” he pointed, “And then through what should be clear space. At least that is my best guess. Though I can make no promises there won’t be traps or obstacles, or other hazards.”
“Tactical analysis,” said Calvin. “If we do run into a disguised mine, is it a threat to this ship?” He wondered if he should drop stealth, raise the shields, and attempt to perform the mission under blitz circumstances. It would be a desperate ploy, but one he felt a duty to at least consider, even if only for a moment.
“We would be destroyed,” said Rez’nac matter-of-factly.
Calvin nodded. “Well…that’s comforting.” He then looked around at the many faces of the crowded bridge, and hoped this wasn’t going to prove to be the last time he saw them all in one piece. The fear of what might happen forced him to hesitate, but only momentarily, and, after a few seconds, he knew that continuing to wait would avail them nothing, so he gave the order.
“Miles, keep our shields down and stealth up, Cassidy keep a hawk’s eye on our close-range scanners—I don’t want to strike any mines; Jay, begin to follow the course Rez’nac advised, sublight drives only.”
“Aye, sir,” his people acknowledged him.
“Sound General Quarters and strap in,” said Calvin. With that, he returned to the command position and strapped in, while everyone who could did the same. There was no seat for Rain, nor one for Rafael, so the two of them braced themselves by grabbing hold of the unused features on opposite sides of the bridge.
The view out the window changed as the ship turned abruptly to starboard, then pitched downward. They accelerated, though the only way to tell was the announcement from Jay that they were moving forward.
“Approaching the asteroid sphere, closing in on waypoint one. Fifteen seconds,” said Jay.
Calvin waited silently, feeling the tension build as the ship maneuvered closer to its possible doom.
“Waypoint one achieved,” said Jay. “Now angling, yaw fifteen degrees port, and accelerating.”
The asteroid sphere was not yet visible out the window, but Calvin could see it in high definition on the 3D display. The current zoom showed the Nighthawk fast approaching the cloud of debris; the vessel held course, narrowly missing a large, battleship-sized asteroid spinning in place, continuing its slow orbit around the star.
“We have entered the asteroid sphere,” announced Jay, sounding nervous. “Achieving waypoint two in twenty-five seconds.”
The seconds came slowly, as Calvin expected them to trigger a trap at any moment, or to be spotted and targeted by one of the many outposts, platforms, star bases, or patrol ships sweeping the asteroid sphere—but nothing happened. So far so good.
“Waypoint two achieved,” said Jay. “Altering course for waypoint three.”
Waypoint three had Calvin the most nervous of all, as it brought the Nighthawk within only a few MCs of a small dwarf planet, and required the ship to tightly travel around it, almost entering orbit momentarily, as the maneuver was executed.
“One minute and forty-seven seconds until we reach waypoint three,” announced Jay.
Calvin rubbed his clammy palms together and stared at the 3D display, completely fixated on it—and forcing the thought of invisible mines as far away from his mind as he possibly could.
“One minute,” said Jay, after what felt like eternity. The dwarf planet was visible out the window now. It had a rugged moon-like beauty to it; it was grey and rough and covered in craters. If there were any Polarian-built installations, they were too small to see, on the other side of the planet, or else buried beneath the surface. Calvin preferred to imagine the planet was entirely abandoned, except for some outdated, automated guns that would never detect the Nighthawk in a million years.
“Fifty seconds,” said Jay, as the planet moved out of sight from the window. “Forty seconds…thirty seconds…twenty—” Jay paused abruptly.
“What is it?” demanded Calvin, knowing something had gone wrong. But no alarms were flashing, and they were all still breathing, so he couldn’t imagine what.
“We’ve struck something,” said Jay. �
�We’re not moving.”
Calvin felt his heart sink. “What is it? How bad is the damage?” he fired off the questions like machine gun rounds.
“Not something,” said Cassidy. “We’ve been caught by a tractor beam.”
“A tractor beam?” asked Calvin. “How were we detected?”
“I’m not sure we were detected,” said Cassidy. “More like we set off some kind of proximity trap and a tractor beam automatically engaged. It has a firm lock on us.”
“We need to move before someone real actually sees us,” said Calvin, grateful that the trap they’d stumbled upon hadn’t been a mine. “Reverse course.” Tractor beams had their uses, but as far as technologies went, they were fairly primitive as far as having much tactical use.
“Aye, sir, reversing course,” said Jay. The ship began to move, but was stopped again almost immediately.
“What now?” asked Calvin.
“We’ve stumbled upon another tractor beam,” said Cassidy. “It has halted our reverse motion.”
“Angle the ship and try to free us,” said Calvin, thinking even two tractor beams shouldn’t be able to hold the nimble Nighthawk.
“Aye, sir,” said Jay. Then, a moment later. “No luck.”
“What do you mean no luck?” asked Calvin, more perturbed than alarmed.
“We can’t move the ship,” said Cassidy, in Jay’s defense. “It’s more like we’ve triggered a tractor field than a couple of tractor beams.”
“A tractor field?” asked Calvin.
“They are tractor beams, in the strictest sense,” said Cassidy. “But there are so many of them, and all focused on us, coming from seemingly every direction…it’s like an entire field is holding us in place.”
Calvin started to feel a bit more alarmed, but he comforted himself in the knowledge that tractor beams, even a field of them, were still a primitive technology, and there wasn’t a tractor beam in the galaxy that could keep a ship from jumping into alteredspace. If they did a controlled, very short jump, they should be able to break free. The only difficulty would be to avoid returning to normal space and colliding with one of the asteroids, but Calvin’s plan for that was for them to jump backwards and then attempt their approach again, this time changing course enough to avoid the tractor beams.
The Phoenix Requiem (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 7) Page 2