The Phoenix Conspiracy

by Richard Sanders

  ***

  “Incredible,” said Shen, staring out the window.

  “That makes four of them,” said Miles as another large gray object became visible through the window, gliding almost invisibly in the darkness.

  “Emitting very little heat and flying no identifier lights and giving off no signals,” said Shen after conducting a short scan. “Just like the others.”

  “They’re definitely ships,” said Calvin. “But what kind?” The quick but distant glances they caught, while carefully maneuvering around the strange objects, made it impossible to get a good view. Most of the hulls were still shrouded in darkness. And the Nighthawk’s projector didn’t have enough information to display them.

  “If we move even closer,” said Shen, “like to exact center, we’d be able to get a pretty good scan. The scrambling device wouldn’t be as effective.”

  “I say we go for it,” said Miles.

  “It’s risky,” said Sarah.

  “Relax,” said Miles. “They can’t see us. We have the best stealth system in the galaxy.”

  Despite Miles’s confidence, or perhaps because of it, Sarah looked unconvinced. She glanced at Calvin for instructions, and he hesitated before giving any.

  On the one hand, the Nighthawk was no match for any of these technically superior ships. If Calvin’s ship was spotted, and a fight ensued, it was curtains for sure. But, on the other hand, if he didn’t take the chance, he might lose out on what could be vital intelligence. He needed to ID those ships to make this worth it. And the Nighthawk’s stealth device seemed to be working so far.

  “Let’s do it,” said Calvin.

  “Okay,” replied Sarah.

  The ship closed in, silently and swiftly.

  “What I’m still surprised by,” said Shen, “is how the station is fully lit up but not reacting to any of these ships. Its shields are down, weapons powerless, communications array inactive …”

  “Do you think they can even see the ships with their sensor-jamming device?” asked Sarah.

  “Probably. All these deep-space outposts have large, powerful sensors.”

  “Too bad we can’t hail them,” said Sarah. “Without giving ourselves away.”

  “Their comm array is down anyway,” said Shen.

  “I bet they’ve been boarded,” said Miles. “Even though no distress signal was ever sent to the fleet.”

  “Or a distress call was sent to the fleet, and the fleet ignored it,” said Calvin.

  “If boarded,” said Shen, “the staff consists of only a handful of scientists and technicians, and they would be unable to defend themselves. There are no sophisticated defenses at tiny outposts like this so deep inside the Empire.”

  Sarah interrupted them. “Approaching nearest object at 25,000 MCs per second, zero range in twenty-eight seconds.”

  As the ship swung about, the object came into view and gradually filled the window. “It’s a Rotham ship,” said Miles. “No doubt about it. Thorpian attack cruiser.”

  Calvin knew better than to doubt Miles’s knowledge of starships and their defenses. “I suspected this,” said Calvin. “But it still surprises me.”

  “I know …” said Shen. “Rotham warships this far inside the Empire. It’s crazy. How did they even get here? They should have been spotted by at least a dozen of our listening posts along the DMZ, unless they came from Polarian space …”

  Sarah was intently focused on her display and controls, ready to go into a defensive maneuver at any moment.

  “Do all the ships match the design of this one?” asked Calvin.

  “Hard to know,” said Miles. “Most of them seem to. But not all.”

  Just then the CO’s office door opened, and everyone looked to see Summers stride to the center of the bridge.

  “Welcome, Commander,” said Calvin. “Take your seat and strap in.”

  “What for?” she asked. Then her eyes flicked to the ship out the window. “Is that a …?”

  “Rotham ship,” said Miles.

  “But how can you tell? There are no identifier lights.”

  “Trust me,” said Miles. “It’s a Rotham warship—Thorpian attack cruiser.”

  “I don’t—” Summers was almost speechless. “What is it doing way out here?”

  “That’s what we need to find out,” said Calvin. Then, while Summers sat down and strapped herself in—with some hesitation—Calvin turned to Miles. “Tell me about those ships.”

  “They are full-on warships. Superior to any destroyer, larger than our battleships without as much bite, but nothing compared to one of our dreadnoughts. Though they could squish us like a bug.”

  “And what about the ships that are not Thorpian attack cruisers?”

  “There are four that don’t match the design. Three ships are light cruisers. The fourth is totally different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s hard to explain …” Miles looked flustered. “It’s the one orbiting the planet. There’s a weird energy band or something emitting from it. It’s in flux, increasing and decreasing like clockwork. Not sure what to make of it.”

  Shen did a quick scan. “I see what you mean, Miles,” he said. “There’s some kind of field which its main accelerator is giving off. My best guess is that its propulsion technology is distinctly different than Rotham or Imperial standards.”

  “Bring us in closer,” said Calvin. “Focus on that ship.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Sarah. “Moving to new position.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?” asked Summers. She was now eyeing the XO’s personal display.

  “What do you mean?” Calvin turned to her.

  “If we move to that position, we’ll be totally surrounded by those ships. If they are hostile, and they see us, we won’t be able to escape. Their proximity will physically prevent an alteredspace retreat.”

  “She’s right,” said Shen.

  “That’s only if they see us,” said Miles. “And if we do move to that position, that will give us the best view of everything here.”

  “He’s right about that,” said Sarah. “And there is no other really good position to scan from without dealing with distortion from the planet. Should I proceed as directed or not?”

  “Proceed as directed,” said Calvin. He knew the risks and decided they were worth taking. He had to know more.

  The attack cruiser disappeared from view, quickly replaced by the dwarf planet. It was dark gray and only partially lit by the star. It looked like a barren, lifeless shell of a world. A floating rock in the middle of nowhere with absolutely nothing of interest or of value upon it.

  “New position reached, answering all stop,” said Sarah.

  “What are the ships doing?” asked Calvin.

  “Holding pattern. No one is moving except for the ship in standard orbit.”

  “Now that we have a better view, project everything we can see.”

  The screen lit up with simple 3-D models of a basic planet, an orbiting outpost, a ship in orbit, and five other vessels all around the Nighthawk, sitting idle.

  “An entire alien squadron …” said Calvin.

  “Looks like it.”

  “Tell me about the unusual ship.” He rubbed his hands together.

  “It’s a cruiser,” said Miles. “Polarian …”

  Calvin felt a potent wave of both intrigue and dread. “The Polarians are here?”

  “Or a ship that once belonged to them,” said Shen.

  “Could they be cooperating?” Calvin asked. “Polarians and Rotham?”

  “They were at war five years ago,” said Summers.

  “It sounds more likely to me that the Rotham captured or purchased a Polarian ship, maybe as far back as during the war, and are using it here,” said Shen.

  “That would fit,” said Miles. “The Polarian ship looks like a Kesner type-three cruiser, making it at least ten years old. It could have easily been captured during the war.”

 
“Yeah, that has to be it. The Rotham acquired a Polarian ship. You know probabilities. The simpler the explanation, the more likely it is to be correct,” said Shen.

  Calvin agreed that was likeliest but wasn’t closing the book on it.

  “Look at this,” said Shen, staring at his scanner. The projected display of the ships’ positions blinked once, and then they all noticed one of the ships—the closest one—move slowly away from its position, toward the Nighthawk.

  “Do they see us?” asked Sarah.

  “I guess we’ll find out in a minute,” said Shen.

  Calvin knew everyone was thinking the same thing. If they had been detected, was escape even possible?

  “Should I raise the shields?” asked Miles.

  “No,” said Calvin. “Then they’ll see us for sure.”

  “Maybe they already do,” said Sarah.

  “I think we should leave this system immediately,” said Summers. “If we still can.”

  Calvin didn’t like these options. “Shen,” he said, deferring to his technology expert. “Is it possible for them to see us?”

  “I suppose anything’s possible,” he said, “but I have no idea how. We’re not leaking. We’re not giving off heat. The stealth system is activated … I don’t know how they could detect us.”

  “Not to mention they didn’t seem to notice us before,” said Sarah.

  “Or they ignored us until we moved right in the middle of them, like a mouse going for the cheese,” said Summers.

  “Calm down, everyone,” said Calvin. “There is only one ship moving right now. And since we’re in the same direction as the planet, it’s most likely the Rotham ship is just performing whatever regular task it’s been assigned to do. Let’s move out of its way, very carefully, and see what happens. Sarah, ninety-degree pitch and give us a gentle push.”

  “Aye, aye,” she said.

  The planet moved across the window as the Nighthawk turned and moved away. But, to their horror, the approaching Rotham ship matched their maneuver, though it did not accelerate, and no other ships moved.

  “Are their shields up?” asked Calvin.

  “Impossible to tell,” said Shen. “They’re still confusing our scanners pretty well. I could barely get a reading on the station.”

  “Raise the shields now?” asked Miles.

  “No,” said Calvin. “Increase our speed by double and turn another fifteen degrees. Let’s see what they do.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Sarah, and she complied. All eyes were glued to the projected display, watching as—at first—the Rotham ship continued on its course, but then changed direction and matched their maneuver exactly. Closer now than ever.

  “Shields up, now, please, please, please?” asked Miles.

  “I don’t understand …” said Calvin, ignoring him. “They shouldn’t be able to see us.”

  “They’re sure acting like they see us!” said Miles.

  “For once I agree with the buffoonish defense officer,” said Summers.

  “Hey, I resent that—”

  Summers talked over him. “We should clear for action and try to escape now.”

  Calvin didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want to raise the shields. If he did, the Rotham ships would be on him like a flock of vultures on a fresh kill, and, even though the Nighthawk packed a mean punch, it couldn’t take much abuse. They would all die, and everything they’d discovered would die with them.

  “I don’t like this at all,” said Shen.

  “Rotham ship’s approach vector is set and closing,” said Sarah.

  “We need a decision,” said Shen, looking at him.

  “Rotham ship will totally block all possibility of escape in seven seconds.”

  “If they haven’t already,” said Miles.

  “Six, five, four—”

  “Okay, okay,” said Calvin. “Get us the hell out of here! Shields up and clear for action.”

  “You got it.”

  “Two, one—”

  “And, Sarah,” said Calvin.

  “Rotham ship has completely blocked our escape path,” she said.

  “Do your magic.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She jammed forward the controls and accelerated the Nighthawk to the peak of its short-range ability.

  They couldn’t flee via an alteredspace jump from here, but, if they could get around the warship without dying or losing any major systems, they’d be all right. If anyone could pull off such an incredible feat of flying, it was Sarah, the cleverest pilot Calvin knew. Much better than he ever was.

  “They see us now,” said Miles. “Enemy ships moving to intercept. If they clear another hundred thousand MCs, they’ll be in firing range.”

  “Let’s not let them,” said Calvin. “We should be fast enough to keep that distance.”

  “There’s still the ship dead ahead,” said Shen. He was scrambling to make sure all primary weapons and defense systems had adequate power and priority.

  Calvin watched the screen as a model of the Nighthawk soared to meet the enemy ship, which matched Sarah’s maneuvers.

  “Thorpian attack cruiser coming about and bringing weapons to bear. Launchers primed, and beams are charging,” said Miles.

  In the window they could see their metal adversary like a gray phantom in the distance, growing larger and larger. Then a surge of energy flashed their way as beams of charged particles crashed into them, superheating their shields.

  “How are we holding up?” asked Calvin.

  “Shields are steady,” said Miles. “I’m more worried about missiles.”

  Calvin nodded. If even one missile bypassed their shields and scored a direct hit on them, it could knock out a critical system. Ship armor was meant to deflect such attacks, but a stealth ship had little of it.

  “How many launchers can it lock onto us?” asked Calvin.

  “Ten,” said Miles.

  Calvin’s heart sank a little.

  “We’ll clear the enemy ship in thirty seconds,” said Sarah.

  “Or collide with them,” said Summers. Her wide eyes were locked on the projected display. “They’re matching us exactly. We can’t get around them.”

  “You underestimate me,” said Sarah, banking the ship at a new, steeper angle. But the enemy ship still managed to match the maneuver.

  “Missile range in three seconds,” said Miles.

  Calvin wished there was something more he could do. There was no sense ordering Miles to do what he was already doing, preparing to shoot down incoming missiles. And the last thing Sarah needed was a CO distracting her with needless commentary.

  “I won’t let any of the explosions detonate within our shield radius,” said Miles boldly, perhaps more to himself than anyone else. Then he tensed and started pressing buttons very quickly. “Six incoming missiles.”

  “Magnify,” said Calvin to Shen, who adjusted the secondary display to project images of the incoming missiles.

  “They can launch about five missiles per three seconds,” said Miles. “If they’re willing to dump that kind of payload.” While he spoke, several missiles collided with energy beams and gunfire too small to see. One by one they exploded harmlessly outside the Nighthawk’s shield radius doing no damage. But before Miles eradicated the last one, more appeared. And three seconds later another wave came.

  “We’re dead,” said Summers.

  “Readjusting,” said Sarah. “We’ll clear in thirty-five seconds now … hopefully.”

  “Thirty-five seconds. That’s what … forty missiles?” asked Miles.

  “Much closer to sixty,” said Summers.

  “Shut up,” Miles barked.

  The projected model of their ship jerked into an evasive pattern, still aiming to outmaneuver and get past the attack cruiser—which had tried to delay them long enough for its allied ships to arrive.

  Sarah was an expert with such a masterful control of the Nighthawk that it was like the ship was an extremity of her own body.
Between her incredible skill and Miles’s targeting ability, they managed to survive the next wave. But more missiles were coming in fast, progressively closer to their mark before Miles managed to shoot them down. Now the missiles were at the edge of the Nighthawk’s shields, and Miles’s face was red and sweaty as he struggled to compensate.

  “Give me more space!” he yelled.

  “I’m trying!” said Sarah.

  Calvin thought only of what he could do to assist them. Which seemed like nothing.

  Of the newest five missiles, Miles managed to detonate three outside the Nighthawk’s shields, but the fourth and fifth slipped through. One exploded inside their defenses, blowing off a chunk of the Nighthawk’s armor.

  “No critical damage,” said Shen.

  “You let another one get through!” said Summers, unable to contain herself as the fifth missile soared unhindered. But Miles was too busy targeting the next wave to care about the missile he missed. “Relax,” he said. “It won’t hit us.”

  The fifth missile glided past them, a narrow miss. Miles flashed a grin and masterfully took down the next wave.

  “Miles, did I ever tell you how much we love you?” said Calvin. “And how glad I am that I bought your release from Praxis?”

  “Yeah, you know how I said I’d pay you back?” asked Miles. “This counts. Worth every damn Q and then some.” He stiffened. “But if we don’t clear this fast, we won’t make it. Our guns are starting to overheat, and the beams are losing power.”

  “I’m working on it,” said Shen. “I’m draining all secondary systems.”

  “It won’t do any good,” said Miles. “I need our guns. The two energy beams won’t stop five missiles in time.”

  “Come on,” said Sarah, twisting the ship into an even more complex pattern of movements that the attack cruiser, which was so close it completely filled their window, could not hope to match.

  “Yes!” Sarah shouted. “We’re above and going around them. I’m opening this all the way up.” She accelerated the ship to its maximum and shot them forward like a deranged arrow. “Retreat vector calculated. We’ll be clear for an alteredspace jump in five seconds.”

  A cheer filled the bridge. But it was short-lived. As soon as they moved past the attack cruiser, and it vanished from view, the sight was replaced by another ship exactly as large. It sat there, weapons primed, like it had been waiting the whole time.

  “What the hell?” asked Sarah.

  “How did we not see that before?” asked Calvin.

  “Jammed sensors,” said Shen with a shrug of despair.

  “Can we still jump?”

  “No. Their gravity and proximity will mess us up.”

  Miles let out an enormously loud string of profanities, then said, “We’ll be in range of their missiles in ten seconds.”

  “Can you get us around it?” Calvin looked to Sarah but knew their ship would never be able to outmaneuver both attack cruisers working together. And the other Rotham ships weren’t far away. The Nighthawk was more trapped than ever.

  “I can try,” said Sarah, but she didn’t sound hopeful and cursed under her breath.

  The new ship unleashed a barrage of energy that slammed into the Nighthawk’s shields, threatening to overpower them and bring them off-line. It was such a brilliant display that Calvin had to look away from the window.

  “We can’t take many more of those,” said Shen. The bridge lights blinked as he switched them to tertiary power.

  Calvin knew they would never be able to outrun or outfight these adversaries. He removed his restraints and stood up, catching their attention. “Sarah,” he said. “Tell them we surrender.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “We surrender!”

  “I’d rather die on my feet with a sword in my hand than live on my knees,” said Miles.

  “We’re no good to anyone if we’re dead,” said Calvin. “Our only chance now is to offer our surrender and hope they take it.”

  “And hope we survive captivity,” said Shen.

  Once Sarah contacted the enemy ship, they accepted an unconditional surrender and transmitted instructions. The attacks stopped, but waves of Rotham starfighters were deployed to doubly ensure the Nighthawk could not escape. A tractor beam from the nearest ship latched onto them and pulled them in slowly, probably heading for a loading bay within the Rotham ship.

  “Now what?” asked Sarah.

  They all looked at Calvin.

  “We have to act quickly,” said Calvin. “Shen, we’ll need to roll back the computers so our databanks are what they were before Praxis.”

  His officers knew better than to question him until he was finished.

  “We’ll make it look like Anand is still the XO, and, Miles, you get to play Anand.”

  “I don’t look much like an Anand,” he said. “But I’ll do whatever you say.”

  “Summers, you and someone from Special Forces will hide, and we’ll erase all evidence that either of you were aboard the ship.”

  “Then what?” she asked. “We mount a two-person assault on a ship that must have over three hundred soldiers and afterward rescue you?”

  “No,” said Calvin. “Then you and our soldier discreetly plant and activate the silent beacon you brought aboard. That will alert the Fifth Fleet to our presence and also let them know we’re on the Rotham ship so it can be boarded.”

  “Good thinking,” said Summers with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

  Calvin was almost surprised to hear her agree with him. “Better hurry.”

  She sprinted for the elevator and disappeared below.

  “I give it a 50 percent chance any allied ships will even see the beacon with the jammer in place,” said Shen.

  “Better than zero,” said Sarah.

  “The Fifth Fleet is coming to Abia already anyway,” said Calvin. “Because they want to track down the Nighthawk. My thinking is that they’ll be able to see the beacon once they get here.”

  “That’s likely true,” said Shen.

  “And if they see it from farther out, all the better.” Calvin cleared his throat. “Open a simultaneous line to the major and engineering.” Once the line was established, he explained his plan as briefly as he could. Finishing with, “Summers is on her way as we speak.”

  “I’ll have to destroy a lot of our files in HQ,” said the major. “It’s procedure. The aliens may not like it, but it’s what we have to do.”

  “While you’re at it, make sure you erase all evidence of whichever soldier you’re sending with Summers and the beacon,” said Calvin.

  “Now the question is who,” said the major.

  “I’ll do it,” said Pellew. “I’ll go now. And when our ship is boarded, we can hide in the secret containers Mitchell and Adams were discovered in.”