The Phoenix Crisis (15 page)

“
How many ships?” asked
Raidan. He was expecting two—the Nighthawk and the Arcane Storm,
any more and it was a potential threat to the Harbinger, and any
less and something had gone wrong.

“
Only one ship, sir,” said
Mister Ivanov. “Small cruiser class… looks to be the Arcane
Storm.”

In the distance there was a flash and
through the window a tiny speck of light could be seen. The 3d
display updated and locked onto the new ship signature, it
displayed the familiar hull of the Arcane Storm.

“
And the Nighthawk?” asked
Raidan.

“
No sign. Could be the ship
is stealthed.”

“
Use all our scanning power
to search the space around the Arcane Storm,” said Raidan. The
Organization had managed to steal the latest scanning technology
and equip one of the prototype models to the Harbinger, greatly
boosting its detection capabilities. Unfortunately it was the only
working updated scanner the Organization had and the Phoenix Ring,
undoubtedly, had equipped several of their ships with the new
device.

“
Aye, sir,” said Mister
Ivanov. He began instructing his lieutenant to commence scanning
procedures.

“
Mister Watson, break orbit
and set an intercept course for the Arcane Storm,” said
Raidan.

“
Aye, aye,” reported the
helmsman. It took him and multiple flight lieutenants to fly the
massive ship. The vessel turned and Lyra Minor’s deep crimson sun
was visible out the port window briefly.

“
Hail the Arcane Storm,”
said Raidan. “Let’s make sure our friends are actually
aboard.”

“
Yes, sir,” Mister Gates
acknowledged him. Raidan was especially glad to have him aboard, he
was a former CERKO agent—and therefore a good informer on the
changing organization—and his role as communications officer had
greatly assisted Raidan’s effort in capturing the Harbinger in the
first place. His position was the only major function on the bridge
that did not require the assistance of other personnel, which had
kept Captain Simmons and the rest of the Harbinger’s bona fide crew
unable to alert Praxis of the mutiny that’d freed Raidan and given
him command of one of the galaxy’s deadliest fighting ships. Gates
input something into his computer and began speaking into his
headset. Raidan watched him intently, knowing a lot hinged on what
kind of response they got from the Arcane Storm. Hopefully it was
their people aboard, and that Calvin was merely being unnecessarily
cautious and keeping his own ship stealthed and standing
by.

“
Response from the Arcane
Storm,” said Gates after a moment.

“
On speakers.”

“
I’ve brought her back to
you, sir,” came the familiar voice of Tristan over the speakers. “I
recommend we dock with the Harbinger immediately.”

“
I agree,” replied Raidan.
He had full confidence in Tristan, and had reasons to trust him
completely, but he’d honestly expected Calvin to be in command of
the incoming group—not Tristan. “Tell Calvin to come aboard as
well. We have things to discuss immediately.”

“
Calvin won’t be able to
make it,” replied Tristan. “He sent one of his lieutenants in his
place… a Mister Vargas or something.”

Dammit! What’s the matter
with you, Calvin? I specifically instructed you to meet me
here.
Raidan was distressed by this news
but he did not show it in his voice. “Why did he do
that?”

“
He wouldn’t tell me,” said
Tristan. “Hopefully Vargas knows more than I do – he says he has a
message from Calvin.”

“
Very well, bring this
Vargas with you when you come aboard. I’ll see the two of you in my
office right away.” Calvin had no idea the lives he was putting at
risk by not coming. Already the Harbinger had been gone too long
from the region of space directly around Renora. Fortunately Lyra
Minor was within striking distance, but now that Calvin and the
Nighthawk were gone, God knows where, the Harbinger might have no
choice but to withdraw from the region for an extended amount of
time. And all the Phoenix Ring needed, Raidan knew, was twelve
hours. If they had twelve hours of unblocked access to the planet,
Renora was doomed. And perhaps so was the Empire.

“
We will come aboard
immediately,” said Tristan. And the communication ended.

“
See to it that our teams
are ready to go aboard the Arcane Storm the instant she’s docked,”
said Raidan. “And be sure that Vargas and Tristan are shown to my
office the moment they arrive.”

“
Yes, sir,” his staff
acknowledged him.

“
I’ll wait for them there.
Mister Mason, you have the deck.”

When Tristan and a man Raidan didn’t
recognize—who was a bit shorter than average, thin, very pale, and
had extremely dark hair—entered his office, Raidan nearly stood up
and commanded them to enter swiftly. Instead he remained patient
and kept his chair, not wanting to appear distressed or panicked.
Though the clock was ticking.

“
I take it you are Mister
Vargas,” said Raidan, the instant the door had closed.

“
Aye, sir,” said Vargas. He
looked uncomfortable, afraid even.

“
Please be so kind as to
tell me why Calvin decided to abandon our rendezvous and send you
in his place.”

“
Calvin said he had
something important to take care of—and that you just had to trust
him,” said Vargas, he stuttered ever so slightly. Raidan wondered
what was making the officer uncomfortable, was it the might of the
Harbinger, or perhaps Tristan’s presence—those who knew the
ferocity of a lycan were wisely apprehensive around them. Whatever
it was, Raidan hoped to capitalize on the man’s anxiety and squeeze
every drop of information out of him that he could.

“
Where did he go?” asked
Raidan.

“
The Nighthawk’s heading was
unknown,” said Vargas. “No one knows where he went.”

Raidan looked to Tristan, as if to check the
veracity of this claim.

Tristan nodded. “He also entrusted Mister
Vargas with this written message,” Tristan produced a piece of
paper from his pocket and placed it on Raidan’s desk. Raidan picked
it up and read.

“
I’m sorry that I’m not here
to meet with you in person as we agreed. You must trust me, though,
that I have very good reasons. The matter I’m attending to is
urgent. However I can offer you this, Xinocodone is fatal to
replicants in even small doses. Calvin.” It was disappointingly
vague, almost insultingly so, but at least that last part had some
value—potentially. Raidan folded up the note and looked back up at
his guests. “And that was all Mister Cross told you,
Vargas?”

“
Yes, sir. I swear
it.”

Raidan had no reason to doubt the man’s
word, he seemed far too intimidated to tell a lie directly to
Raidan’s face.

“
Very well, you may go,”
Raidan waved him off.

For some reason Vargas didn’t move.

Raidan looked at him curiously. “Was there
something else?”

“
Yes…” said Vargas
eventually. “There was one more thing. I’m not—” he
hesitated.

Raidan waited patiently.

“
I’m not to turn over the
Arcane Storm to you until the Nighthawk has new crew and supplies,”
said Vargas. “Calvin’s orders. The ship is badly damaged from
battle with the Phoenix and needs new crew as well, and food and
medical supplies. And ammunition too.”

“
It’s too late, the Arcane
Storm is already mine. My men took the ship immediately,” said
Raidan.

“
Calvin said not to let you
have it. Not until he has the supplies he needs. And that his crew
is safely back aboard the Nighthawk. That we’re to use the Arcane
Storm to deliver everything… then you can have the
ship.”

Raidan resisted a smile. Surely Calvin
didn’t think he had any bargaining power here, especially when he
couldn’t be bothered to come here and make his demands himself.
“I’m sorry Mister Vargas but those terms are not acceptable.”

“
They’re not for
negotiation,” said Vargas. To his credit he was trying to be brave
in a very frightening situation, but Raidan knew the man’s bite had
no teeth, and certainly he had no leverage.

“
The Arcane Storm is already
mine. Everyone on board—all of your compatriots—have already been
moved onto the Harbinger. My scanning crews, technical staff, and
investigative analysts have already begun. They will tear apart
every inch of the Arcane Storm until they find the answers I am
looking for.”

Vargas looked unsure what to say.

“
But don’t worry,” said
Raidan. ”I’ll see that Calvin gets the repairs and resupply he
needs. You and all the rest of the Nighthawk’s crew will be safely
taken back to the Nighthawk by a repair convoy. We will arrange a
rendezvous and do a swift deep-space repair. The Arcane Storm will
not be available to be involved, but don’t worry, I have other
ships at my disposal. And Calvin will get everything he
needs.”

Vargas nodded.

“
You may go,” Raidan
dismissed him for a second time. This time the man left.

“
I take it that one didn’t
give you any trouble,” said Raidan once Vargas had gone.

“
No,” said Tristan. “At
first he was under the mistaken impression that he had command of
the Arcane Storm, but I
corrected
that for him.”

“
You saw it necessary to
usurp command of the Arcane Storm?” asked Raidan curiously. He
folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“
Well… it is
my
ship. The Organization
said I could have it if I ever tracked the damn thing down. And
besides, Vargas had the silliest notion that he wouldn’t dock with
the Harbinger unless you agreed to all of his—and
Calvin’s—terms.”

“
We could have easily
disabled the ship and boarded it by force,” said Raidan.

“
Which would have been a
hassle for everyone. So I saved you the trouble. You’re
welcome.”

“
Did Calvin’s people resist
you? No doubt they were told Vargas had command.”

“
They were surprisingly
cooperative. Once I explained to them that I am actually a
commander, and that I’m also a Remorii…” his eyes shimmered in the
dim lighting. “And once they knew that Vargas wasn’t going to
challenge me… they made no complaints.”

“
And what about the security
forces on the ship? I hope you didn’t feel the need to kill
anybody.”

“
Calvin only sent five beat
up Polarians as security, and they were entirely preoccupied with
their own foolishness to care what was happening on the bridge.
Everything went smoothly.”

Raidan nodded. No harm done, he
supposed.

“
So what now?” asked
Tristan.

“
Now I want you to see to it
that arrangements are made to get the Nighthawk the supplies it
needs. You know the state of the ship so I’m putting you in
charge—get a convoy ready to depart as soon as possible. Calvin’s
no good to us if he and his ship are destroyed for lack of armor
and weapons.”

“
I will,” Tristan
saluted.

“
And see if you can arrange
for the rendezvous to take place near Renora. I know it’s a risk,
but I don’t want to draw our ships away from this zone. For…
obvious reasons. Once the King’s soldiers land, you can bet our
enemies will want to take advantage of that and release some hell
of their own… if no one is around to stop them.”

“
I understand,” said
Tristan. “And what do you plan to do?”

“
I’m going to oversee the
tearing apart of the Arcane Storm. I know you have fond feelings
for the ship, but there are answers that need to be
had.”

Tristan grinned, flashing his sharp teeth.
“Rip her apart to the bone if you have to. Just let me have her
when you’re done.”

“
I will.”

***

“
New message coming in,
sir,” said the helmsman.

Nimoux spun his chair to
face the officer. “From whom?” His ship, the Desert Eagle, was
leading a squadron of warships to a strategic position near the
DMZ. Several of the vessels’ captains had concerns about these
orders—which seemed to contradict their existing standing orders
which were to pursue the Nighthawk—so it had become commonplace for
them to contact the Desert Eagle and request clarification. Nimoux
had the same answer for all of them—
I am in
command, you will follow my orders exactly.

“
Not from one of our ships,
sir,” reported the helmsman. “ It’s from Intel Wing, Office of the
Director. Highest priority.”

Nimoux stood up and approached the
helmsman’s terminal. Thinking perhaps now, finally, after he’d
repeatedly sent reports to Intel Wing and the Fleet, they were
getting somewhere.

“
Message is pre-recorded,
sir.”

“
Play it.”

The familiar-looking face of Director
Edwards materialized on the computer screen. Lately he’d seemed
tired and not quite himself, this time was no exception. “Captain
Nimoux, your squadron is dissolved. Each ship will be given new
instructions from Intel Wing and the Fleet. As for the Desert
Eagle, you are ordered to proceed to the following coordinates and
rendezvous with the ISS Wolverine. Proceed with all haste. Further
instruction to follow.” The image of the Director disappeared and
was replaced by a set of coordinates.