For some reason, this took Calvin a bit off his guard. He had expected to find some kind of fortress, laden with heavy defenses and operating with state-of-the-art technology. But, no, this place looked positively medieval.
A closer inspection using the 3D display revealed that the seemingly blank walls of the tower were covered in carvings. Very intricate carvings, but seemingly, to Calvin’s eyes, patternless and random. Though he had no doubt Rez’nac could explain their exact significance; however, Calvin did not care enough to ask. Rather, he wished to focus on the mission at hand.
“Jay, give the order for the away team to assemble,” said Calvin. It was time.
“Aye, aye,” said Jay, as he began to relay the command.
“Um…sir, I’ve got something,” said Cassidy, sounding alarmed.
Calvin spun around so he could face the Ops console. Nothing about it stood out to him, but, then again, he had been trained to fly, not to scan. “What is it?” he asked, thinking it was too good to be true that they could simply approach the Alcazar of the Forbidden Planet without so much as a fighter intercepting them.
“It’s…it’s hard to say,” said Cassidy, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of it. “It seems to be some sort of high-energy cluster. I’ve—I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t know how it even remains stable.”
“What is it? A wave? A beam? A field?”
“More like a…vortex, if that makes any sense.”
“Interesting, but not necessarily threatening,” said Calvin. “Or am I wrong?”
“You’re wrong,” said Rez’nac.
“It’s coming this way,” said Cassidy. “The vortex is headed right for us.”
“At our position or on an intercept course?” asked Calvin.
“Intercept course,” said Cassidy.
“Time to intercept?” asked Calvin.
“Two minutes, probably less,” came her reply. That gave Calvin more time than he expected, but he still wasn’t sure what the vortex was or how to deal with it—especially while maintaining the Nighthawk’s stealth. Unless, of course, the vortex was homing in on them precisely because stealth had been lost. Which, Calvin reasoned, seemed the most logical inference.
“Rez’nac,” he turned to face the Polarian. “What is that thing?” he pointed to the 3D display, which now showed what appeared to be a gaseous cloud, but had no description other than, “Unknown energy.”
“That is the Sentinel,” said Rez’nac. “And it will destroy us.”
CHAPTER 05
Raidan watched as the blackness out the window became a swirl of starlight, and he knew they’d arrived, even before his chief pilot, Mr. Watson, announced it.
“We have arrived at Capital System, along with a third of the squadron,” said Mr. Watson.
“And the other ships?” asked Raidan.
“The rest of our forces, and those of the Remorii, are still inbound. They should be arriving any moment—although a few of them beat us here, by a few seconds,” said Mr. Ivanov.
Raidan’s eyes flicked from the window to the 3D display, which showed many hundreds of ships, like tiny specks, spread throughout the system, as if slowly managing to form some sort of organization. It’s a good thing we’re not the Dread Fleet, thought Raidan, or else we would have caught them unawares.
Still, he was pleased to see that the Capital System appeared intact, especially Capital World—aside from the damage he had personally ordered inflicted upon it—and the vast number of human warships present did give him a measure of comfort—albeit a fleeting one.
“Sir there is a mass of starships in wedge formation—they are coming right at us, sir, intercepting our position,” reported Mr. Ivanov.
“They are not happy to see us,” said Raidan, as he took note of the spear-like wedge heading directly for him—all told his forces were outnumbered at least three to one. Overwhelming force, he thought. Not that he had any intention of resisting.
“I recommend we raise the shields?” asked Mr. Demir. “I also suggest we warn the rest of the squadron that there are bogies coming in hot.”
“I confirm their weapons are live and we are the intended targets,” said Mr. Ivanov.
“Raise the shields,” said Commander Mason.
“Belay that order,” Raidan replied immediately.
“Sir?” asked Commander Mason, he looked stunned; most of them did.
“Without the shields, we won’t survive very long,” said Mr. Demir.
“We didn’t come here to fight,” Raidan reminded them. “We came here to make peace. Then to fight. Together. Brothers against a common foe—the Dread Fleet.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” they acknowledged.
“Still, we can’t allow ourselves to be destroyed before that happens,” said Raidan. “Mr. Watson, prepare to retreat the ship if necessary—not back into alteredspace, but give us some distance from those attacking ships, should they get within two minutes weapons range.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And, Mr. Gates, have your staff alert the rest of the squadron to do the same. Make sure the order is clear to those damned Strigoi that, no matter what, even if they take fire, they are to keep their shields down. If they won’t abide by that, tell them they are free to go, but they must not fire on any Imperial starships.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“And, as for you personally, Mr. Gates, send a message over all channels and frequencies announcing our intentions.”
“Tell them what, sir?” asked Mr. Gates.
Raidan walked over and ripped the headset from his head and placed it on his own. “Give me the thumbs up when I’m transmitting—remember, I want all frequencies, all channels, I want everybody within three clicks to get this message. Is that clear?”
“Clear as crystal, sir!” He then pressed some buttons and gave Raidan the thumbs up.
“To the noble Queen Kalila and all Her Majesty’s forces, I am Asari Raidan. I come here, in force, not with the intention to threaten or harm any Imperial anywhere, but rather the opposite. I have come, bringing all power available to me, in order to help defend Capital System against our common enemy, The Dread Fleet. I know that I and my ships will not be enough alone to turn the tide, but I wish to stand with my brothers and sisters, my fellow Imperials, and help to throw the Dread Fleet back into the darkness from whence it came. Whether we can do it one time, or it takes us a thousand times, I have come to stand with you, in the solidarity of battle, for the common defense of our people. After the battle is won, I will gladly surrender myself to the authorities. You have my word. But, for now, I ask you. No, I beg of you, stand down. Do not intercept me or my ships. Do not attack us, for bloodshed among brothers will avail us nothing. A fight amongst ourselves would only waste precious Imperial resources that we can scarce afford. So let us set aside whatever conflict we may have and focus instead on the big picture. On the defense and safety of Capital World and her many billions of citizens. For in this dire hour…we are one.”
Raidan took off the headset and ordered the message to repeat until they got a response from the queen.
“And if she never responds?” asked Mr. Gates.
“She’ll respond,” said Raidan, knowingly. “She’ll respond. In the meantime, keep those shields down and weapons unarmed. The rest of the squadron is to do the same.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Commander Mason.
***
“What the hell is a sentinel?” asked Calvin.
“Not a sentinel,” Rez’nac corrected. “The Sentinel.”
“Same question,” said Calvin, as he looked at the image on the 3D display—which seemed unable to make sense of it. Its shape kept changing and the readout continued to display Unknown Energy.
“The Sentinel is the Essence of Custos,” said Rez’nac, in a tone more befitting a calm summer’s day than a moment of peril. Calvin could now see a large glimmer of light out the forward window; from this distance, it looked abou
t the size of his fist, but he knew it was rapidly closing in.
“Custos is the watchman of our world,” explained Rez’nac. “When those of the Essence of Custos join with the Essence upon death, their energies are combined and they converge into one glorious eminence, one that takes physical form.”
Calvin made a mental side note to investigate the Polarian religion further; clearly there were mysteries of science tightly locked away within its mythos, but for now, he had to save his ship, and himself.
“So, it is a danger to the ship?” Calvin clarified.
“Custos is a danger to any and all who would dare approach the Forbidden Planet, without being summoned here by the High Prelain.”
“But it is possible to get past,” Calvin noted. “If the Dark Ones managed to do it, then so can we.”
“The Sentinel will be a danger to this vessel and any pods you launch from it,” said Rez’nac. “I have attempted to perform the K’ahranu. However, I believe my rite was not accepted; otherwise Custos would let us pass peaceably. It is, no doubt, because I am a Fallen One myself…” his voice trailed off.
Calvin didn’t have time to think about Rez’nac or his ongoing internal struggle with his place inside his own religion. What he did have to worry about was a very real, very tangible vortex of energy headed directly for the Nighthawk.
“We’ll have to move the ship extremely close to the planet, and then launch the pod,” said Calvin, thinking of no other way to get his teams safely to the surface. It helped that the Forbidden Planet didn’t seem to have any ground-to-space weaponry. “That way the pods can get through the atmosphere before this damned Sentinel can get them.”
“That will work,” admitted Rez’nac, “For any who go inside the pods. Once they have passed onto the planet, then Custos will take no interest in them, so long as it has this vessel as prey. Therefore, it is they who remain aboard this vessel who are in peril. They will be found, followed, and hunted. Escape will prove difficult, when the time arrives.”
Calvin had to make a snap decision. Any delay on his part would make it that much harder for those aboard the Nighthawk to manage to survive. “Jay, bring us into close orbit. Then order the teams to the pods.”
“Aye, sir.”
Calvin next tapped his direct line to HQ. “Nimoux, are you there? Can you read me?”
“Loudly and clearly, sir.”
“Get the hell up to the bridge; you’re to take command while I am away.” Calvin glanced at Summers, expecting her to look wounded, but, if she was, she did not show it. If anything, she looked relieved to remain in the XO’s capacity and allow Nimoux the duties of Acting CO.
“On my way.”
“On the double,” Calvin added, so Nimoux knew that time was of the essence. “Summers,” he looked back at his beautiful XO, thinking—just for the briefest of instants—exactly how beautiful she was and wondering if he would ever see her again.
“Yes, Calvin?” she said. Breaking her own rules and calling him by his first name. This fact was not lost on him, but unfortunately he had no time to relish it.
“I need you to get Nimoux up to speed.”
“I’ll make sure he keeps the Nighthawk in one piece for you until you get back; I promise,” she said.
Calvin nodded. Good enough. “Keep the ship intact and the crew alive and safe; if necessary, abandon the rest of us. There’s a good chance none of us are returning.”
“Oh great, that’s what you want to hear,” said Miles, overhearing him. Calvin ignored him.
“Calvin, you’re coming back, you’re all—”
Calvin silenced her by pressing a single finger against her perfect lips.
“Calvin is correct,” said Rez’nac, piping in from seemingly nowhere. “This mission may well mean the death of us all. You and Captain Nimoux must be prepared to leave us. If you do not, then I fear Custos will destroy your ship.”
“If you jump into alteredspace, you should be able to escape,” said Calvin.
“I do not know if Custos knows of alteredspace,” admitted Rez’nac.
“We won’t have to. We’ll be here, ready and waiting. The Nighthawk is the fastest ship in the fleet, remember?” Summers looked at him. Calvin had told her that once. It was almost true.
“This vessel is indeed fast,” said Rez’nac, “But I fear the Sentinel is faster. You would be wise not to linger. It shall pursue you relentlessly. All I can tell you is that Custos is vindictive against any who would pollute our most sacred of worlds with their tainted presence—no offense meant, of course. For I am as tainted as you are now.”
“None taken,” said Calvin. “Cassidy, what can you make of that energy vortex?”
“I can’t get any good readings on it,” said Cassidy. “The computer thinks it’s a tremendous source of heat.”
“Makes sense,” said Calvin.
“But the computer also thinks it’s a tremendous source of gravity, enough to cause wild fluctuations in the tides on the planet, and more than enough to trap a starship at even maximum sublight speed.”
“So, you’ll definitely want to avoid it,” said Calvin.
“It also appears to have some of the same properties of the dampening field we encountered earlier," said Cassidy. “So if you get trapped by it, it’ll scorch you, rip you apart, and you won’t be able to escape by sublight or alteredspace. If these readings are to be believed.”
“I told you, Custos is a vengeful Essence,” said Rez’nac.
“Can it see us through our stealth system?” asked Calvin, reasonably sure that it could. “I don’t know,” said both Cassidy and Rez’nac in tandem, the latter adding “But it will, if only momentarily, when you launch your pods.”
“Summers, once those pods are launched, I want you to stealth the ship and move, quickly, as far away as you reasonably can. Move toward the parent star.”
“Don’t forget we’ll have to retrieve the pods,” said Summers.
“That’s true also. So move again at the appointed time to recover us—assuming any of us make it back alive.”
“Of course you will,” Summers insisted once more. Calvin wished he shared her optimism.
“In the meantime, it’s hide and go seek against the Sentinel; hopefully the stealth and speed of the Nighthawk will give you enough of an advantage, and I can’t imagine the Sentinel vortex will want to travel too far away from the homeworld it protects, so getting enough distance should keep you in one piece.”
“My thoughts too, Calvin.”
“And then, if push comes to shove, and the ship is attacked, with apologies to Rez’nac, raise the shields and fire everything you can at it that might disperse, destroy, or otherwise deal with the Sentinel vortex.”
“Understood. That will be a last option, though,” said Summers.
“You may use whatever weapons you like,” said Rez’nac. “They will avail you nothing. Although your shields may buy you a few precious minutes.”
“Then be prepared to divert secondary and tertiary power from any and all systems into the shields, and protect the generators,” said Calvin. Just then, Nimoux arrived.
“Shouldn’t you be halfway to your pod by now?” asked the wounded captain, as he took the command position.
Calvin nodded, and made for the elevator, Rez’nac and Miles in tow.
“Take care of my ship,” he said over his shoulder.
“I will,” said Nimoux. “You just worry about the mission.”
***
When Calvin reached the others gathered in the corridor, moving gear, and themselves, through the hatch and into Pod Two, he spotted a familiar face.
“Nikolai?” he said, unable to believe it. The last time he saw the bald, rugged bodyguard had been during his brief tenure as the Executor of the Empire, at that moment they each had been fleeing for their lives, desperate to escape Capital World. Calvin had seen a shuttle destroyed during the escape, and for some reason, he’d always believed Nikolai had been inside i
t.
“Calvin,” said the brawny man, coming over and giving Calvin an unexpected hug. “It is good to see you here.”
“Yes, it is,” said Calvin. He felt like he had a million questions, but no time to ask any of them. So, he settled for the most important one. “What are you doing with the Roscos?” The last Calvin remembered, Nikolai had been in the queen’s service. How then had he found his way aboard the Nighthawk after the Battle of Aleator One?
“After my failure on Capital World, I had a falling out,” he said in that familiar accent of his. “Now I work as a gun for hire. The Roscos, I like. The Khans, I do not like. Roscos are men of honor. Khans, Khans are snakes.”
“You’ve got that straight, sure enough,” said Calvin, wondering if this story was true, or if, somehow, the queen had had the foresight to plant one of her agents on board Calvin’s ship—though he did not think even she could have known he was going to take Rosco soldiers with him. Not that far in advance. Could she?
With that, Calvin entered the pod, the last to do so, and it disconnected from the Nighthawk, beginning its dive downward onto the Forbidden Planet itself.
***
“Sir, all forces report positive target acquisition,” said the Comms Chief.
“Excellent,” said Ravinder. “Time to engagement?”
“Two minutes and fifteen seconds, if enemy vessels continue to retreat at present speed,” replied the Ops Chief.
“And our status?” asked Ravinder. She sat in the command position on the edge of her seat, leaning forward, resting her face on her hands and her arms on her knees.
You’re mine, Raidan, she thought. You will pay for the destruction you have caused here.
“This vessel has locked onto the ISS Harbinger’s bridge,” said the Defense Chief. “All warhead launchers are loaded, beam weapons charged, and main guns standing ready. All staff have responded to General Quarters.”
“This could get hairy,” said Ravinder. “Everybody who hasn’t strapped in—strap in now.” That included herself; she scooted back in the chair and fastened the straps that would hold her in place should the gravity system be lost.
The Phoenix Requiem (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 7) Page 9