The Phoenix Conspiracy (5 page)

"I'm not going to appeal it," said
Raidan from his seat. The Consul appeared satisfied by this and sat
down. Just as the Judicator seemed ready to conclude the trial,
Calvin bowed to his impulses and raised a hand of
objection.

"The Court recognizes Lieutenant
Commander Calvin Cross of the IWS Nighthawk," she didn't seem happy
by his interruption, which was out of place, but let it
stand.

"I request a stay of execution until a
full investigation is completed," he almost couldn't believe he was
doing this. "As an intelligence officer I have reason to believe
Raidan's motives, I mean the accused's motives, are more complex
than what this court has found and should be uncovered as a matter
of national security. And since the accused is the most valuable
witness to such an investigation, losing him before we can
investigate would be a terrible mistake."

His request met with dissonance
throughout the room, especially in the form of hissing from the
Rotham table. The Judicator had to smack her gavel to silence the
chamber. "Further investigation is not necessary because guilt has
already been established beyond a reasonable doubt."

"No, you don't understand," said
Calvin, breaking protocol by speaking without permission. "I'm not
interested in proving whether or not the accused is guilty. I'm
interested in finding out why he did what he did. People don't do
things without some kind of motive and we haven't established
one... at least, not a convincing one. My instinct is to believe
Raidan is involved in something larger, which may present a
credible threat to the Empire."

The Judicator nodded, now
understanding. But the expression on her face, and most of the
faces in the room, was disapproving. "Lieutenant Commander, as only
a half citizen of the Empire and lacking sufficient rank, this
Court cannot consider your request. Unless such a motion is
seconded by an officer of flag rank."

Calvin looked immediately to Vice
Admiral Harkov, eyes begging her to take up his cause. But she
refused to speak on his behalf.

"If there is no further objection this
court is concluded and dismissed."

Chapter 5

The day rolled forward in slow motion,
even though it was the start of a much anticipated
vacation.

The station had a large staff apart
from the 500 person crew that maintained it, the facility provided
most of the conveniences someone might expect. From diverse food
options to commercial centers everywhere, everything buzzed with
activity on all public-access levels. But few of the diversions
piqued Calvin's interest. He avoided the gambling hall, even though
he was free to play as much as he liked now—he just didn't feel
like it, and instead spent his time exploring the station, enjoying
some alone time. He stopped from time to time to stare out the
windows at the planet below. He'd been all over the Empire and was
still caught off-guard by the raw beauty of a sapphire blue planet
almost close enough to touch.

Eventually he returned to his room to
read. But his books couldn't hold his interest and neither did the
online nets, so he began sorting through papers relevant to the
Phoenix mission, and scribbled notes. He began a list of every
possible motive Raidan might've had to go rogue, no matter how
unlikely, hoping he could put everything in perspective.

It was only a few minutes of
this, however, before his ideas ran out and became silly to amuse
himself, like "
his pizza was laced with
amphetamines causing him to misbehave for several
days
" and Calvin tossed his pen aside and
crumpled the paper into a ball. What was the point? The case was
decided. The sentence would be carried out. Asari Raidan would die,
and the truth, whatever it was, would die with him. Calvin knew
better than to hope he could figure out what Raidan's motives had
been. Not without more information. So it was a waste of time. An
unwanted distraction that was already ruining his
vacation.

As a last resort, he turned on some
music—a very old piano solo recorded hundreds of years before, and
lay in bed. He wasn't tired enough to sleep, but as he followed the
gentle rolling notes of the sonata in minor key, he was able to
relax and push everything out of mind.

Until the comm panel started chirping
at him. He resisted at first, covering his ears with a pillow, but
eventually answered the call. "Calvin here, what is it?"

"Heya there, Cal." It was Sarah and
she sounded more than a bit tipsy. "It's me, you know. I'm with
Shen here and we were just sayin’ where the hell is that commander
of ours?"

Calvin laughed. "In my
room."

"In your room? At 1800 hours
on a firstnight of leave?
Nooo
... can you believe that, Shen?
He's in his room on the first night of leave!" Her voice was
somewhat drowned out by the sounds of music and talking. "That
won't do. Unless..." she giggled. "You’re not alone over there are
you, Cap'n?"

“No, I’m not alone,” Calvin looked
around his room; it was empty except for piles of his junk and a
few books on the floor. "Okay, I’m alone.”

"Then come on over here and have a few
drinks with us, why don'tcha? Don't you know we're on
vacation?"

He usually felt out of place in rooms
crowded with people dancing, singing, drinking, and trying too hard
to impress the opposite sex. But he didn't have anything better to
do, and both Sarah and Shen, like many in his crew, had become
trusted friends. People he enjoyed spending time with. "All right,
sure. Why not. Where are you?"

"Mist-36..." A noisy song could be
heard blasting in the background.

"OK, see you," he turned off the
panel.

Mist-36... he's seen it earlier that
day. The larger of the two clubs on the station. He was pretty sure
he knew how to find it again, instead of searching for it on the
computer, he dug out some fresh clothes and took a fast shower. He
always told people he wasn't interested in meeting a girl and
getting tied down somewhere, but really it was only the 'getting
tied down somewhere' that bothered him. And since he would be
rubbing shoulders with a lot of people his age, he felt compelled
to make the best impression he could.

Once dressed, he splashed water on his
face and checked himself over in the mirror. He even fussed with
his hair for a few seconds. "Not bad, Calvin, not bad. You clean up
pretty well for an Acting Captain." He grinned and dabbed on a tiny
bit of cologne, very careful not to overdo it. This was one of
those rare occasions where being only twenty-five was an
advantage.

Unfortunately, finding
Mist-36 was harder than expected, and he ended up on the complete
wrong side of the station....
somehow
. He'd never been good with
directions, ironic for someone who began his career as a pilot. He
preferred being the one who decided
where
to go, not how to get there.
And now, lost as he was, he still didn't want to ask for help. Not
because of pride so much as a natural urge to solve the puzzle
himself. He back-tracked and tried again. When that didn't work he
found a kiosk and looked up a map of the station, memorizing the
way to Mist-36.

A long line of people waited under the
glowing blue sign. He took his place and shuffled forward
thoughtlessly. They were able to glimpse the club's insides through
a wide window along the wall. What stood out about it, to Calvin,
was that it was old-fashioned enough to be made of some kind of
glass. If starships and stations used such windows they'd all be
dead by now. It wasn’t exposed to space, though, and probably saved
the owner some serious q.

With his hands in his jacket pockets,
he let his mind slip away from the boredom of the line,
daydreaming, and before long it was his turn.

"Yeah you look all right. Here, thumb
against the plate. It's policy." One of the two bouncers in black
suits spoke to him. Calvin fought his smile. Being judged by a
couple of muscle-heads to see if he was "pretty enough" to get
inside seemed absurd. A paying customer with deep pockets, would
they really turn him away? Apparently so, as about half the people
had been refused.

"Hey, you listening, man?"

"Yeah, sorry, what?" He smiled, trying
not to look rude, despite missing what they'd said.

"You gotta thumb the plate. It's
policy. No non-humans, no criminals, and no
non-citizens."

Calvin pressed his thumb flat against
the plate before catching the last qualifier. He wasn't a
non-citizen, he was a half citizen. But apparently that was enough
to red-flag him.

"You're only a
half-citizen?"

"Yeah," said Calvin. Full citizenship
was hard to come by, so much so that even half-citizenship was
often considered privileged.

"Sorry pal, full citizens only. Don't
feel bad, we turn away hundreds a day."

"Okay, well, whatever," Calvin turned
around. Being as established as he was in the military, he forgot
how much harder it was to get by in the Empire without being a full
citizen. Even in the military he knew his citizenship status was
holding him down at Lieutenant Commander. A rank that was still
quite respectable for a twenty-five year old, but what about when
he turned thirty-five? Would he still be a Lieutenant Commander?
Did they intend to keep him down forever? His service record
demanded better, but he tried not to think of such things. He'd be
a full citizen someday, when he inherited his mother's citizenship
status at the time of her death. But, like any good son, he hoped
that day never came.

"Hold up there, Calvin." One bouncer
said turning to the other. "Eric, it says here he's a Lieutenant
Commander. You know the rules, officers get in no matter
what."

"What about the other rules? Like no
non-citizens."

"Idiot. This rule is the number one
rule. Otherwise the boss loses his contract. This ain't mainstreet.
If we start turnin’ away officers, we're done. The rent on this
place will—"

"Ok, guys," said Calvin. "Make up your
minds. In or out? I'm tired of standing here."

"In," the bouncer on the left said,
pointing his thumb over his shoulder. The other eventually nodded
and stepped out of his way. "The cover charge is 5q."

Calvin nodded and handed them the
cash.

The club was a strange combination of
bright and dark inside. Most lights were off but several soft
lights of all colors and varieties were everywhere. Everything was
a little obscured by a lingering cloud of smoke and people were
everywhere, despite the efforts of the bouncers to keep most
everyone out. Almost every person was standing, either in circles
chatting with others, or dancing to the energetic rhythms of some
live musicians who Calvin didn't recognize—probably a local
sensation. He didn't really care for the style, being partial to a
different genre. Anand sometimes joked that Calvin had been born in
the wrong decade.

He slipped through the mess of people
and stopped near the center of the room, letting his eyes search
for the familiar faces of his bridge crew. But almost no one's face
could be made out in the haze and he found himself wishing Sarah
had given better directions.

Someone crashed into him, nearly
throwing him off balance. But he kept his footing, wobbling a bit,
and managed to catch the stranger by the forearm so she wouldn't
fall. As he let her go he saw a pretty young face. Even in the dark
she looked embarrassed while apologizing profusely.

"It's all right," said Calvin. "Don't
worry about it, you're fine."

"Once again, I'm very
sorry."

He laughed, stopping her as she turned
away. "What's your name?"

"Sylvia."

"Well, Sylvia, maybe you can help me.
I'm looking for where drinks are served."

"Oh there's a sectioned off bar right
through there," she pointed to a door on the left wall. She brushed
some of her light brown hair from her eyes and gave him a warm
smile. It was hard to see her clearly in the darkness, her face lit
only by the blinking strobe light, but she was very
cute.

"Say..." Calvin hesitated. Somehow
girls made him uneasy in a way that aliens bent on killing him did
not. "I'm meeting up with some friends, would you like to join
me?"

"Thanks anyway, but no. I really have
to go. Maybe some other time."

He nodded, thinking maybe it was for
the best that she’d brushed him off. Suppose she hadn’t and they
ended up really liking each other, what then? He couldn’t let
himself get tied into a relationship. His career wasn't suited for
it, with all the secrecy and traveling. And, in his eyes, he wasn’t
a good enough person to settle down with someone. Not
yet.

So he forgot about the girl and pushed
on through the door she'd pointed out. He found several booths and
a short bar sectioned off from the noisy main room. The lighting
was a little brighter. The instant he walked in he heard "Hello,
Calvin!" from his left.

"Hello, Sarah and Shen." He nodded and
took an empty seat at their table. An attendant followed
him.