The Phoenix Conspiracy (7 page)

"Yes. And it's very important that you
send us the reports simultaneously and that they are exactly the
same."

"Well that sucks," said Calvin. "So if
I don't want Fleet Command to know something I can't let you know
it either?"

"That's correct. And don't try to go
around that. I know you. I know you'll try to think of some clever
way to feed me information you don't want them getting their hands
on. But they will be able to monitor any and all transmissions
originating from your kataspace connector."

"That really, really sucks. Are there
any concessions you didn't make, sir? You make it sound like Fleet
Command is running this investigation."

"For all intents and purposes, they
are. I'll try to keep everything out of your way and you just focus
on finding the Harbinger. Let me worry about the
politics."

"Okay."

"That's all I have for you. Get your
crew ready and I'll get you all our data and see that your ship is
released. Good luck."

"Thank you, sir,” said Calvin and the
terminal shut off. He let out a deep sigh of frustration, and then
sent a message to his crew.

***

The hum of the printer quit
and Calvin grabbed the next batch of documents sent to the
Nighthawk by Intel Wing. They'd sent it all to him electronically,
but after his computer decrypted them he wasted no time printing
hard copies. Technically he was not allowed to do this—but he
just
hated
reading
enormous documents on unsoftened screens. It bothered his
eyes.

His desk had collected quite a pile
and he didn't relish the thought of reading through it all in the
kind of meticulous detail required. Most people thought being an
Intelligence Officer meant you had access to all kinds of private
information and military secrets. And to a certain extent that was
true, on a need-to-know basis. But mostly what you'd be downloading
to your brain was personnel rosters, account information,
transaction details, rap sheets, anything and everything that might
be pertinent to a particular case. Most of which turned out to be
useless, peripheral junk. But for the sake of those few buried
gems, every single scrap of information had to be considered; even
the tiniest detail might be the difference between a solved case
and a permanent mystery.

So, without any joy, Calvin returned
to his desk and began scanning through the latest Intel. This batch
was the service records of the engineering staff.

Jon Kwalski received a
demerit for missing a shift on 10.05.1212... that was six years
ago, can't they let it go? He also won a blue-water service award
for completing a spacewalk repair in record time... blah, blah,
blah...

A chirp interrupted his reading. He
tapped the button on his desk. "Yes?"

"Captain to the bridge."

"What is it?"

"The main hatch has sealed and the
commander is aboard.”

"Thank you, Shen." He
released the switch and locked the files in a desk drawer. He took
only a second to smooth out the wrinkles of his uniform and clear
his throat before marching for the bridge door. He wanted to make
it clear to whoever his new XO was, some navy officer, that
he
was in charge. And he
wasn't going to be changing any of his active protocols to whatever
they did in the navy.

The door slid aside and he stepped
onto the bridge and looked it over.

Sarah grinned from behind the helm and
Shen sat at operations. But the defense post was vacant.

"Where's Miles?"

"Knowing him, still asleep on Praxis
One," said Sarah as she shrugged. Calvin looked to Shen.

"He came aboard with the Commander's
party. I'm sure he's on his way."

"All right," instead of taking his
chair, Calvin moved to the back of the bridge where the main door
was. "Patch me through to Director Edwards."

"Yes, sir. Just gimmie a second," said
Sarah.

A minute later the Director’s face
appeared on the screen. "What is it, Lieutenant
Commander?"

"Have you freed my ship?"

"Affirmative. You're ordered to
disembark as soon as you’re ready."

"Any new Intel?"

"We’ve confirmed the Harbinger’s
heading is Aleator System. But you’ll have to take it from
there."

"Thanks." The transmission closed and
the screen went dark again. "OK, Sarah, contact the control tower,
let's get this show on the road."

"With pleasure." As she tapped away
and spoke into her headset, requesting clearance, Calvin turned his
eyes to the large window, thinking how glad he'd be when he saw
stars again instead of the grey, docking-bay walls.

The elevator door opened and
he turned to face his new executive officer. Her blue-and-black
uniform stood out like a sore thumb in an environment of
black-and-silver, and her stunning physique, radiant eyes, and
bright hair were all too familiar. "
You?”
asked
Calvin.

Summers Presley's expression became a
mixture of both confusion and offense. He cleared his throat.
"...should know you're welcome aboard. So … welcome aboard," he
faked a smile but didn't miss her raised eyebrow. "Your post is
over here." He motioned toward the command seats in the
center.

"Thank you, sir." She said. Her voice
was pointedly neutral but he could tell she was irritated. Perhaps
she was no happier about this arrangement than he was.

"We're good to go, sir," said Sarah.
"We have clearance to launch along standard vector through gate
one."

"Good, Sarah, disengage the docking
clamps and, now that you're here Commander, we're ready to..."
Calvin spotted the empty defense post again and cut himself off. He
looked back at Summers. "Where's Miles?"

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Didn't one of my officers come aboard
with you?"

"No one higher than a petty
officer."

He spun to face ops. "Shen, I thought
you said Miles came aboard the Commander’s group."

"I didn’t say that. But
Miles was
supposed
to."

"Okay, Sarah, cancel the launch and
re-engage those clamps. Shen, find out what happened to Miles."
Calvin took his seat and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'll get a demerit form," said
Summers from his side. Calvin spun his chair.

"A what?" He hadn't heard the term in
so long it took him a second to remember what it was. "No, just...
don't worry about it." He wasn't going to fill out some demerit
slip.

"With all due respect, sir," Presley
said. "This calls for discipline."

"It's nothing. Look, I'm sure he's got
a good excuse and he's probably on his way."

"Found him, sir," Shen piped
in.

"See."

"He's in a detention unit. It seems
our unlucky friend amassed something of a gambling debt and he's
forbidden to go off world until he pays it."

"Dammit, Miles..." Calvin stood up.
"Okay send them an order from Intel Wing to release him from lock
up."

"No can do. He signed some kind of
contract before playing those tables. Unless Intel Wing wants to
foot the bill it'd be a breach of interworld regs."

"He sounds like trouble. I can get
someone transferred over from the Fleet," said Summers.

"
No
, no,” said Calvin sharply. The
last thing he needed was another robot from the Fleet.

"Or I could take the White Shift
myself. I used to be a defense officer," she said.

"It's all right, that won't be
necessary, Summers. I'm not giving up one of my best
officers."

"Commander."

"What?" He looked at her,
confused.

"My rank, it's commander."

Oh right, he'd forgotten about that
protocol. He'd have to let her know how he did things on his ship,
but that was a battle for another time. Instead he ignored her and
looked back at Shen.

"How much is the debt?"

"30,000q."

Sarah whistled. "That's more than he
makes in a year."

Calvin thought about it for a moment.
"All right, all right. I'll cover it. Let me wire the funds over to
them."

"What?" the bridge exploded with
surprise.

"
You'll
cover it?” asked Summers, her
face was white with shock and disdain that a commanding officer
would cover for an undisciplined inferior and pay such a fortune to
do it. But she just couldn't understand how far back Miles and
Calvin went, and she couldn't know that as good as Miles was at
losing money, he was even better at his job—second to
none.

Calvin shrugged. "He'll repay every
q." But he knew Miles would never be able to. That, however, was
unimportant to Calvin. He didn't have an infinite flow of wealth,
but he made more than he spent. And the money really wasn't that
valuable to him.

He moved to the ops station and logged
into one of his bank accounts. After wiring over the money, they
received confirmation that Miles had been released and was on his
way over.

"What do you think it'll take, half an
hour?" Calvin wondered.

"The detention center is on the
fifteenth deck of the outpost, and since he can skip most of the
security check at the terminal I'm thinking fifteen minutes," said
Shen.

"As soon as he's aboard, get us out of
here. And let me know when he's on the bridge. In the meantime,
I'll be in my office doing a little reading." Calvin decided he'd
prefer to be milling over the datasheets than idle on the bridge.
As he turned for the door he caught sight of Summers whose face
looked like it was going to explode with frustration. But, being
the dutiful officer that she was, she kept her cool. For
now.

"Commander, maybe you'd better come
with me." He nodded toward the door and she stood up and followed
him into his office. He sat down at his desk and she stood by the
door, it closed behind her.

"Thirsty?" He asked nodding toward a
stack of waterbottles.

"No thank you, sir."

He stretched his arms then folded them
behind his head. "We got off on the wrong foot earlier, Commander."
He fought the impulse to look her up and down. "In the terminal
before the trial, I mean."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "I'm
sorry I don't remember."

"Good," said Calvin, doubting her.
"Then we should have no trouble starting over. Now, a few things
you should know now that you're part of the family."

He had trouble judging her reaction.
"Please, sit," he said, motioning toward another chair opposite
him.

"Thank you, but I'd rather
stand."

"All right," he said. Was there
something he was doing that made her annoyed? "The first thing you
should know is that aboard my ship the most formal protocols go out
the window." He didn't miss the flash of disapproval in her eyes.
It made him want to smile. "I don't care about them, they're
inefficient and boring. Here everyone is always open to speak their
minds; that way we're all on the same page. And I don't hand out
demerits. If someone does something small then I don't care, but if
they do something big then they're tossed out the
airlock."

"What?" Her shock broke through her
armor of unreadability.

"That was a joke. But they would be
tossed into the brig. And there they'd have to deal with Major
Jenkins, the commander of the Special Forces unit aboard. And trust
me, that's not a blessing." He chuckled but she didn't even crack a
smile.

"Is that everything, sir?"

"No," said Calvin. "I want you to
speak freely. You're unhappy, I can tell. Let it out. If you have
some advice or criticism for me, well, I'm always up for hearing
it."

She was hesitant.

"Come on."

"Are you sure?" She asked as she
folded her arms.

"Let me have it."

"Okay then..." she paused for an
instant but when she spoke her lips wouldn’t stop. She ranted about
how inappropriate it was for him to pay for Miles to be released
from lockup, and how she had no confidence in an officer with that
kind of bad judgment, who would gamble himself into such a deep
hole. And how by not disciplining him, Calvin was validating Miles'
actions. Setting a bad example for the whole crew. Breaking the
cohesion of a good, trained, disciplined starship. And how waiting
for Miles only increased Raidan's headstart.

Calvin listened quietly, actually
considering everything she said. And, he thought, it made sense.
But he didn't agree with her conclusions. The important thing was
that he knew how she felt, and that she'd learn what his positions
were, and adapt.

"...we're officers of the military,
that's who we are. The least we can do is act that way!"