Read The Phoenix Crisis Online
Authors: Richard L. Sanders
Tags: #mystery, #space opera, #sequel, #phoenix rising, #phoenix conspiracy, #phoenix crisis
“
Good to see you again,”
Edwards Prime said once Zane was in his office and the door was
closed. Zane knew that the room had been stripped of all recording
equipment and made soundproof so he was at liberty to speak
openly.
“
I take it you are enjoying
your new lofty position in the Imperial Military?” asked Zane.
Mostly to remind the replicant whom he owed everything to and where
his loyalties should lie—after hearing that X’li Prime might have
defected from the Phoenix Ring, Zane wanted to make sure Edwards
Prime wasn’t of a similar mind.
“
I am ever at your service,
my master,” Edwards Prime bowed. “How may I serve you?”
“
Firstly I need you to
identify more sympathizers of the Organization here on Capital
World—even people who are just suspects will do—Blackmoth is
running out of targets and I want to make a statement to the
Organization by cutting them off from Capital World
completely.”
“
We have not yet confirmed
that anyone else is working for the Organization, other than the
names I already gave you. But we have a few suspects under
surveillance. I can produce a list of them for you if you
like—though it’s unlikely most of them are connected to the
Organization in actuality.”
“
Doesn’t matter,” said Zane.
“We take them all out. If even one belonged to the Organization, it
will help me send the message I want to send.”
“
And if not?”
“
Collateral
damage.”
“
Understood. I’ll have that
list sent to you within the hour.”
“
Good. Now on to the second
thing,” said Zane, thinking about his most recent conversation with
Rita Donovan. “Tell me what is going on with the Rahajiim. Are they
still in Imperial space? What are they up to?” If the Rahajiim had
plans of their own—which Zane didn’t doubt—they were imperative to
discover before the Rahajiim acted on them. Certainly their
ultimate interests were not in line with the Phoenix Ring’s, or
humanity’s.
“
The Rahajiim fleet was
positively identified en route to Remus System, according to
reports submitted by Captain Nimoux.”
Zane nodded. “And did they remain?”
“
Unknown, Nimoux withdrew
his squadron from the system before it could be cornered or
captured by the Rahajiim fleet. He reports that the ISS Phoenix did
not make the rendezvous and is therefore missing.”
“
Damn that Commander Datar,”
said Zane. When Anand Datar had been given control of the ISS
Phoenix by the Fleet, the Phoenix Ring hadn’t yet been ready with a
replicant to replace him. Which meant they’d have to manipulate
Datar through more conventional means until the time was right to
replace him. Zane had thought that if the young commander could be
made emotionally compromised, and that if he blamed his former
friend Calvin along with Raidan’s Organization for his newfound
emotional turmoil, he might be molded into an unknowing but useful
tool. And might be used to destroy the Nighthawk, thus depriving
the Organization of one of its most valuable assets. Unfortunately,
when the moment had come, and Datar had indeed fired on the
Nighthawk, Nimoux and the Desert Eagle had prevented the
Nighthawk’s destruction. Since then the Phoenix had been pulled
from the squadron and now, according to reports, Datar and the
Phoenix had disappeared entirely.
“
No one has seen the Phoenix
and no one seems to know where it has gone,” continued Edwards
Prime. Telling Zane what he already knew.
“
No matter,” Zane said. It
was a shame that Datar had not completed the task, but at least his
absence and his recklessness still served a minor purpose. He was a
chaotic element that would help bring about the instability the
Phoenix Ring was working so hard to achieve. And, if the Phoenix
did manage to hunt down the Nighthawk, there was always the chance
that Anand Datar and the Phoenix would eliminate the ship and its
intrusive commander once and for all. “Just tell me that Nimoux and
the squadron we gave him are still in fast pursuit of the
Nighthawk.”
“
He isn’t. He and his ships
have changed position to prepare for a Rotham invasion that he
believes to be imminent. He mistook the Rahajiim fleet for the
Rotham navy. He believes we are at war.”
“
Tell him to continue his
original mission,” said Zane.
“
I have, and I’ve sent the
order to him through multiple channels. Intel Wing and the
Fleet.”
“
And he will not comply?
That doesn’t sound like him.”
“
I am awaiting his most
recent report. I will let you know.”
“
Be sure that you
do.”
“
There is one other concern
I have about Nimoux,” said Edwards Prime. “Not only did he allow
the Nighthawk to escape—and thereby enable Calvin Cross and the
Organization to keep frustrating many of our efforts—Nimoux has
been doing some digging of his own. He sent a probe to the Xenobe
Nebular Region and discovered that all the isotome had been
stripped away. He has since reported this to the Fleet and Intel
Wing, though I’ve intercepted all of his reports so
far.”
“
He knows about the isotome
weapons?” asked Zane with a jolt of concern. Nimoux had
considerable status and influence for someone in his position, and
he wasn’t an operative Zane believed the Phoenix Ring could
successfully recruit. If he knew too much and was able to
successfully blow the whistle… that would create a crisis for the
Phoenix Ring.
On the other hand, Nimoux was one of the
most useful tools Zane had access to. He was the best operative in
the Empire and one that Zane could be sure had not been recruited
by the Organization or the Rahajiim. So long as Nimoux’s orders
came through proper channels—and Zane controlled those
channels—Nimoux was as obedient as a well-trained dog. Or so Zane
had thought. Nimoux should not have allowed the Nighthawk to
escape, he should not be investigating isotome, and he should not
have abandoned his pursuit of the Nighthawk to prepare for a war
that—if all went well—wasn’t going to happen.
“
Resources have been
mobilized and I’m prepared to
deal
with Nimoux, if that is your wish, sir,” said
Edwards Prime.
Zane thought about it for a moment. He
couldn’t risk Nimoux finding out any more than he had—and he
certainly couldn’t risk the legendary captain bringing his
information before the Assembly. At least not before the Hour of
Ascension had come. On the other hand, the Phoenix Ring needed
useful operatives in the field working for them, whether knowingly
or not, and there was no one more skilled and capable than Nimoux
anywhere. Zane would be sad to lose him.
“
Sir?”
“
I’ll make up my mind on the
matter soon and let you know. Until you hear from me, do
not
move against Nimoux.
Is that clear?”
“
Yes, sir.”
***
The time came for the Arahn-Fi. Normally it
would be witnessed by dozens of Polarians—enough to form a complete
ring around the combatants, large enough to give them space but
tight enough to keep either from escaping. Here aboard the Arcane
Storm, though, there were only a few Polarians—most of their group
had died on Remus Nine. Joining the Essences with full honor and
glory. Which meant that there was no ring around Rez’nac as he
faced his son. Only three other Polarians stood by to witness the
Arahn-Fi. But it was no matter; Rez’nac knew that he would never
dishonor himself by fleeing the combat. And neither would Grimka.
Their beliefs were far too sacred.
“
As your master, I am giving
you one final chance to abandon this madness and submit to me,”
said Rez’nac. He looked at his son who, like him, was dressed with
the ceremonial breastplate and helm, and carried the artifacts of
his Essence, including a dagger.
“
I refuse,” said
Grimka.
“
I urge you to let the
proper order be established once more. Fall into line and receive
no shame, only honor. All of this, every whit of your petulant
defiance, will be forgiven.” Even as Rez’nac spoke the words he
knew he could not allow Grimka’s murder of the human soldier to go
unpunished, but he hoped to allow Grimka the chance to recant
before death, perhaps letting him go to the Essences after all,
instead of the darkness.
“
There is no order here. In
this house, under your watch, we have gone astray. It is for the
Essences, and their honor, and the sacred duty of everyone here,
that I must call forth the Arahn-Fi.”
Rez’nac felt disheartened by Grimka’s
answer, but was not surprised. Truly it was a sad moment in any
Polarian’s life when he had to slay his own son to keep his honor.
But, like he’d told Calvin Cross, the truth was what it was, and it
had no sympathy. And respected no person.
“
Are you prepared to be
judged by the Essences, father?” asked Grimka.
“
I am prepared for the
Essences to show us their will,” Rez’nac replied. “Let the Arahn-Fi
commence!”
With that he took a step closer to his son
and drew his dagger. Grimka did the same. As opponents, they
circled each other for a moment, sizing up the other. Rez’nac
searched his soul for the strength to lash out against his own son,
knowing it had to be there. For honor required it. And there was
none more honorable than Khalahar. His own Essence.
The three witnesses began chanting, speaking
the harmonious poetry that was a symbol of the Arahn-Fi, calling
forth the collective souls of the Essences to take possession of
the bodies of the combatants and show them—the witnesses—their
will.
Grimka attacked first. He lunged and Rez’nac
easily deflected the blade. Grimka opened himself up with his
failed attack and Rez’nac sent him a swift punch to the face. His
hard knuckles cracked against Grimka’s cheek, tearing his coarse
blue skin, and the younger Polarian recoiled.
Rez’nac did not press his advantage, though,
and instead waited for Grimka to recover and come at him again.
Hoping that somehow Grimka would see the madness of his deeds and
try to declare an end to the Arahn-Fi—even though such was strictly
disallowed. Yielding to Rez’nac would cost Grimka his honor, but
allow him to hold onto his life. Rez’nac hoped Grimka would take
that option, and he wondered if that made him a bad father to value
his son’s life more than his son’s honor. And, deep inside, he knew
it did. And that pained him.
Grimka attacked again, carving and slicing
through the air with his fierce dagger. Its razor-honed edge
glimmered in the flight deck’s lights and Rez’nac had to duck and
roll to the side to evade the attack.
Grimka became angry that his attacks were
not finding their target and, showing the bright blue of
embarrassment in his face, he gritted his teeth and growled. He
cursed Rez’nac in the foulest of the forgotten tongues, and then
charged him.
Rez’nac stood his ground. It was time for
him to teach his son a lesson. His son who had defied him, and who
had murdered one of the humans, and who had summoned this Arahn-Fi
madness even though he could not prevail and the Essences would not
favor him.
Grimka slashed his dagger at Rez’nac who
deflected the blow with his arm. Grimka then threw a punch at
Rez’nac’s face and connected hard, throwing all his weight and
momentum into it. But still Rez’nac remained standing, allowing the
force of the blow to flow through him. It hurt, and part of him
wanted to scream or lash out in response to the pain, but he’d
trained himself long ago to be his own master. The pain was merely
the dark part of his soul rebelling against him, confused and
out-of-place—much like Grimka—and Rez’nac would not submit to
it.
With his free arm he caught Grimka by the
throat. His fingers seized the younger Polarian tightly. He held
him close and stared into the younger Polarian’s eyes. As if trying
to see into his soul and understand why Grimka had fallen so far
from the path of honor.
Grimka squirmed and struggled against his
father’s iron grip and made another attempt to stab him. This time
the dagger glanced off the ceremonial breastplate. Rez’nac knocked
the dagger aside and it scraped across the deck, stopping several
meters away.
Grimka crashed his head down, bashing
Rez’nac with his forehead. Their ceremonial helmets collided with
surprising force but, once more, Rez’nac ignored the pain and
Grimka seemed to get the worst of it.
“
Submit,” Rez’nac whispered,
still staring into the eyes of his son. With his free hand he
raised his dagger until it was poised to deliver the fatal blow; it
gleamed menacingly for all to see.
Grimka glanced at it, then back to Rez’nac.
Fear showed in his eyes. Utter terror. Rez’nac knew what it was
when he saw it. But somehow Grimka did not allow that fear to
overpower him. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment,
then opened them again and showed his defiance.
“
Never
,” said Grimka. “I will go to the Essences and take my
rightful place. But I will never yield during an Arahn-Fi. I would
never dishonor myself or my Essence. My soul is at peace. Do what
you must, Father.”
Rez’nac was a little taken aback, he had
never seen nor expected this kind of fire from his son before. The
young Polarian was strong and stubborn, and a devout—if a bit
misguided—follower of their ways, but he had never shown this kind
of strength before. And so strong was his conviction that it made
Rez’nac almost doubt his own. Had he led them astray?