The Phoenix Conspiracy (46 page)

"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
deployed to doubly ensure the Nighthawk could not escape. A
tractor-beam from the nearest ship latched onto them and pulled
them in slowly.

"Now what?" asked Sarah.

They all looked at Calvin.

"Now 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?"

"
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."

"Okay," said Summers with a nod.
"Let's do it."

Calvin was almost surprised by her
enthusiasm. "Better hurry."

She sprinted for the elevator and
disappeared below.

"I give it a fifty percent chance
they'll even see the beacon with the jammer in place," said
Shen.

"Better than zero," said
Sarah.

"The Fifth Fleet is coming here
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 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."

Chapter 28

Once the Nighthawk docked with the
attack cruiser, Calvin and his bridge crew went to the main hatch
unarmed to await capture—as instructed.

He stood with Sarah, Shen, and Miles
in silence. Trying not to make eye contact with any of them.
Whatever horrors awaited them on the Rotham ship—a people known for
brutality—Calvin bore the guilt. Had his judgment been better, had
he known more about the situation, he would have acted differently
and spared them all what would come next: captivity, torture,
perhaps even death. What kept him going was the hope that Summers
and Pellew would not be found.

The hatch unsealed with a snap-hiss
and slowly retracted. "Here goes," said Miles.

The first group of Rotham swept in,
their movements lithe and swift—like lizards. Gold eyes shining,
crimson scaly skin, black hair, and the distinct uniforms of the
Teldari—the invasion force that raided so many worlds in the Great
War. They held a variety of small arms, mostly energy rifles, and
ordered Calvin and the others against the wall.

Calvin raised his hands and the others
followed his lead. They were searched and pushed along through the
hatch and onto the deck of the Rotham ship's main
hangar.

Once they were clear, a column of
about sixty Rotham Teldari swarmed onto the Nighthawk to turn
everything upside down and capture everyone aboard. Calvin watched
them go with a mixture of anxiety and forlorn regret. No Captain
should ever have to see his ship taken by the enemy.

"Move along," a rotham said, knocking
Calvin in the back of the head.

"
Ouch
!" He suppressed a wave of fresh
anger as he looked at his assailant, a Teldari with a yellow
collar—a captain. He was probably one of the few Rotham here that
spoke Human. After their eyes met, Calvin looked away, not wanting
to provoke the captain further. Instead, he moved forward—as
directed—to the corridor.

The hangar was a basic structure,
almost boring in appearance; its only standout feature was how
large it was. It could easily fit three Nighthawks. Most of the
fighters stored here had been deployed making it feel empty,
despite piles of crates and scattered equipment.

A gun pressed into Calvin's back told
him they didn't like him looking around. He put his head down and
marched forward in silence, like they wanted. Surrounded by Teldari
who looked grim and ready for violence.

The detention block was strategically
located near the hangar. Far enough away that a rogue prisoner
couldn't slip off and steal a fighter, but close enough that new
prisoners could be processed and locked up without much opportunity
to escape or see ship operations.

Before he knew it, he was in his cell.
No bed. No chair. Not even tall enough for him to stand. He could
sit on the floor, crouch, or lie down—curled into a ball. The
Empire would never treat prisoners this way. And, unlike detentions
on most Imperial ships, he was held in place by metal bars instead
of a proper forcefield. Either to save money or to prevent
prisoners from escaping in the event of a power failure. But the
downside was that a practiced criminal might exploit a weakness in
the lock and hinges. Too bad Calvin had no such talents.

Straight across from his cell, with
its limited view, was Miles. He gave Calvin a weird look—like a
kicked cat. Calvin wasn't sure what it meant.

"Do you think they'll feed us to each
other?" asked Miles.

Before Calvin could reply—or decide if
he wanted to—one of the guards yelled at them, probably ordering
them to be silent. His staccato language seemed impossible to
understand. Calvin knew a few phrases of Rotham—it was a required
course at the academy—but he didn't remember much beyond the inane
and completely useless practice phrase, "The book is on the
table."

He heard footsteps and, by scooting
over and arranging his head in such a way, Calvin caught glimpses
of familiar faces marching with hands on their heads between
forceful Rotham guards who—despite their height disadvantage—looked
vicious and domineering. He saw Rose and his shift, other
crewmembers he knew, and before long men and women in Special
Forces uniforms. Last of all was the Major, who they pushed into
the cell next to his—out of sight.

The top ranking rotham had some kind
of alien discussion, but whatever they talked about was totally
incomprehensible to Calvin. After one dismissed the others, and
most of the Teldari filed out, the same captain in yellow collar
approached Calvin and bent down to look him in the eyes. He uttered
something that sounded like gibberish.

Calvin said nothing. Only stared into
his adversary's golden eyes, unblinking.

"You don't speak Rotham?" the captain
asked, now in Human.

"Nope."

"A pity. Your language is... limited.
But it will have to do."

Calvin said nothing.

"You're the Captain?"

"I am."

"And that is your first officer?" he
waved a toned arm toward Miles' cell.

"Yes."

"Calvin Cross and Anand
Datar?"

"Yes."

"Good. I have questions for
you."

Calvin looked away.

"What are you doing in
Abia?"

"I could ask you the same
question. We're humans in human space, what are
you
doing here?"

The rotham pulled a baton from out of
sight and jammed it between the bars and into Calvin's ribs so
quickly he couldn't react. A surge of electric shock crackled
through him and he stiffened, hitting his head on the ceiling as he
tried to withdraw himself but found he could not. A moment later
the pain was gone, just as fast as it'd come, and the rotham
withdrew his baton.

"Let's try that again," he said. "What
are you doing here?"

"Routine patrol," said Calvin. "The
outpost went silent, we were sent to discover why." It was the most
plausible thing he could think of but, like he'd expected, this
rotham didn’t buy it—and he gave Calvin another painful jab with
his baton. In the cramped cell, Calvin had no way to retreat or
dodge.

"What about the Harbinger?" asked the
rotham, once he'd removed the baton a second time.

Calvin's muscles were still tight and
his heart beat faster than he thought it should. He wondered if
this captain knew that shocks like these could kill a human more
easily than a rotham. If he did know, he didn't seem to
care.

"I said, what about the
Harbinger?"

"What about it? It's a ship that's
gone missing. I'm supposed to find it. No idea where it
is."

"Where does it make port?"

"I don't know what you're talking
about." Calvin really didn't. For all he knew the Harbinger hadn't
made port anywhere since Aleator. And even then it hadn’t
docked.

"I said
where does it make port
?" The Rotham
raised his voice and again jammed his baton through the bars, but
this time Calvin was ready and managed to catch it with both hands
just outside the shock point. For a minute the two of them wrestled
for control and ultimately the rotham managed to pull it back out
of the bars. "I gave you a chance, Human captain, but now you get
to pay like the others." He took out a key.

"What others?" asked
Calvin.

"The ones who died in the Inquisition
Room."

Calvin knew what that was. A torture
chamber. And given the Rotham's reputation for brutality, he didn't
want to go there. Despite the little bit of torture he'd been
forced to endure, as part of his Intel Wing training, he knew that
most people put under Rotham torture for any amount of time died,
whether or not they cooperated. And that if he went, he wouldn’t be
coming back.

As the rotham began to work the lock,
Calvin's mind raced for a way to escape the situation, maybe find a
place to hide until the Fifth Fleet made its move. But, as two more
armed guards showed up next to the Rotham captain, Calvin's hope of
escape left him. With great effort he tried to steel himself,
hoping that, should the unthinkable—but extremely likely—happen,
his trusted friends and officers would still continue on without
him. And uncover the truth for the whole Empire.

"Wait," said a nearby voice, stalling
the rotham who was about to open Calvin's door.

"What did you say?" the rotham asked,
looking more confused than angry.

"That one is useless to you," it was
the Major's voice, coming from the adjacent cell. "He can't answer
your questions because he doesn't know anything. But I
do."

"You are volunteering to tell us
everything?"

"No," said the Major. "I'm telling you
that I'm the only person who can answer your questions, and I never
will. You're wasting your time." He sounded convincingly bitter and
Calvin could see the mixture of irritation and intrigue on the
Rotham captain's face.

"Is that so, foolish human? Perhaps a
visit to the Inquisition Room would change your mind."

"I doubt it, lizard." The
use of the pejorative
lizard
would offend any rotham who knew the Human
language well enough to recognize the word. This worked on the
captain whose breathing changed.

"Take this one," he said, locking
Calvin's cell once more. He then opened the Major's
cell.

It all made sense to Calvin. The Major
didn't actually know anything, he was just goading the Rotham into
taking him to their torture dungeon instead, wherever it was.
Giving Calvin that much more time to hold out for the cavalry. He
was awed by the noble act and wondered, had their situations been
reversed, if he would’ve done the same.

"Don't think you're out of
this," the Rotham captain said, tapping his baton against Calvin's
bars while his underlings cuffed the Major and escorted him
forward. "Because we're coming for you next." He turned to Miles'
cell. "
And
you."
He disappeared and a replacement set of guards entered.