The Phoenix Crisis (26 page)

“
Out?”

“
Off my
bridge
,” she said sternly.

“
What?” he looked at her
like she was crazy, like she was joking. She folded her arms and
gave him an icy stare. Daring him to challenge her.

“
What’d I do?” he
asked.

Summers didn’t want to play his game. Now
more than ever she was certain that Miles’ buffoonery was a
deliberate tactic to upset her. She wouldn’t stoop to his level.
But neither would she tolerate his idiocy.

“
You were imbibing alcohol
while on duty,” she said. “And even worse, you were encouraging
your fellow officers to do the same.” She looked at him and then at
Jay and Midshipman Ford. “I will not have my ship piloted by
drunken loons.”

Miles raised his hands in an
exaggerated shrug and his face turned right red.
“
What
? No one is
drunk. No one is gonna get drunk. It’s three-percent beers.
Practically water.”

Summers shook her head. “I’m
disappointed in all of you, there
will
be consequences for
this.”

“
Hey it was the XO’s
orders,” said Jay.

“
It’s true. He ordered us to
have the beer,” said Midshipman Ford. “No one wanted it. It was
just orders.”

“
Which reminds me,” said
Miles. He stood up and pointed at Cassidy. “This one is guilty of
insubordination.” Now he was trying to deflate the situation with a
crass attempt at humor. Summers wasn’t about to let him off so
easily. “There will be disciplinary action, Missy,” said
Miles.

“
Yes there will,” agreed
Summers. “Against
you
, Mister Brown.”

He looked at her defiantly. She had neither
the time nor the patience to deal with this.

“
Snap to it!” Summers
barked. “On the double! Get your bulbous ass, and all of your
refuse, off my bridge immediately.”

Startled and embarrassed, Miles did as he
was told and collected the remaining pizza and beer.

“
And don’t come back,” said
Summers. “You’re not allowed on the bridge again until I say
otherwise.
Is that clear
?”

Miles nodded. He entered the elevator with
the expression of a sad puppy and then disappeared down to the
lower decks.

Summers took her place at
the command position and sat down, all the while mumbling,
“
beers on the bridge, honestly…”

“
Dropping out of
alteredspace in thirty seconds.”

“
Defense status?” asked
Summers.

“
Shields are down,
semi-operable, half our armor is gone. Most of our ammunition
reserves are depleted. The beam weapon is semi-functional. It has
power but is not charged,” said Midshipman Ford.

“
And the stealth
system?”

“
Active. They shouldn’t see
us when we drop into normal space.”

“
Make sure they don’t,” said
Summers. If they were seen and warships moved to intercept them,
the Nighthawk was in no condition for a fight. “Monitor that system
closely, let me know if even the slightest problem
appears.”

“
Aye, sir.”

“
Dropping into normal space
in two… one…”

Stars filled the window.

“
Position?” asked Summers.
Her eyes immediately flicked to the 3d display which showed
industrial ships in close orbit around the planet. Another ship,
one she couldn’t identify on sight, hung back in open space.
Seeming adrift.

“
We’re pretty deep, about
two point three million mc’s from the planet. Burners at five
percent,” said Jay.

“
Can they see us?” asked
Summers. From what she could tell none of the ships had reacted to
their presence. Hopefully that was a good sign and not a
trap.

“
I doubt it,” said
Midshipman Ford. “We’re not leaking any heat and there is no defect
in our system. Unless someone’s peeking out a window and spots us
with the naked eye, we should be fine.”

Summers nodded. There had been other times,
most recently in Remus System, when the Nighthawk’s stealth system
had been “running fine” yet they’d been spotted anyway. She doubted
the locals here had the kind of detection technology that Nimoux
and his squadron had, but Summers also wanted to play it safe. “Jay
I want an escape vector calculated at all times. At the first sign
of trouble, take us back into alteredspace.”

“
Aye, sir.”

“
Now bring us about.
Midshipman Dupont, begin scanner surveillance of the planet, its
facilities, and the ships present. Crosscheck the images of the
ships with our computer and see if we can find a match. Identifying
those ships is a top priority.”

“
Yes, sir.” Cassidy got to
work. Summers barely understood a fraction of the technological and
scientific considerations of the ops position, but she knew enough
to understand that their scanners were limited while stealthed, and
that their best data would be collected by maneuvering close to the
target. The trick, of course, was not to go too close.

“
Mister Cox, lock heading to
that ship—the one in the distance—and commence flyby
maneuvers.”

“
Aye, sir.”

“
Bring us to within
one-hundred and fifty thousand mc’s at the closest point. If the
ship changes position, adjust heading accordingly and inform
me.”

“
Understood,
Commander.”

The ship turned and the planet became
visible out the window. It looked small from this distance, but the
local sun was bouncing enough light off its white icy surface for
it to be seen by the naked eye. And just beyond it was a tiny green
light, it looked like a star except for its color. Summers was sure
that was the ship she wanted to investigate first: the one that
looked nothing like the others.

“
Project the target ship on
the 3d display.”

Cassidy acknowledged and manually changed
the image. It became a lot clearer and more focused, much of the
detail was now noticeable, but Summers still could not identify the
ship’s make or origin, despite her defense officer training. She
considered that her fault. Even though she hadn’t been a defense
officer in years, such was not an excuse to let everything she’d
learned slip out of her head.  

“
Can anyone identify the
origin of that ship?” asked Summers.

“
It looks… Rotham to me,”
said Midshipman Ford. Summers agreed, based on its angular features
and sharp contours. Certainly there was nothing Polarian or
Imperial that stood out about it. But guesswork wasn’t going to be
enough. If a Rotham ship was in Polarian space, without being fired
on, that implied a kind of cooperation that would likely prove
extremely dangerous for the Empire.

“
Can you identify the
model?” she asked.

“
No, sir. I’m sorry. The
computer should be able to. I don’t think I’ve seen a ship like it
before.”

Summers nodded. “Neither have I.”

The ship’s singular green light proved to be
many green lights as they approached it. Once they were side by
side with it and at their best angle, Cassidy scanned it full
strength. “Okay, feeding the images to the computer now,” she said.
There was a beep as the computer found a match almost instantly.
“It’s a Rotham ship, you were right,” she said, staring at the
output on her terminal. “It’s an XT-37 micro frigate.”

“
Micro frigate?” She’d never
heard of that classification. “You mean corvette? Or possibly
sloop?”

“
The computer says micro
frigate,” said Cassidy.

“
It’s a corvette,”
Midshipman Ford chimed in. “I recognize it now. Definitely one of
the older ships. They badged them as ‘micro-frigates’ to
distinguish them from the smaller corvettes, but she’s a corvette
all right. Not too many of these were ever made. Hardly saw any
action during the Great War.”

“
See if you can identify
this exact vessel,” said Summers. “Mister Cox, alter course. It’s
time to do a flyby of the planet. Let’s get a good scan of those
orbiting ships and whatever’s on the surface.”

“
Aye, sir.”

“
It will likely take several
passes, including some orbits of our own,” said Cassidy, “if we’re
going to get all of the intel we can.”

Summers nodded. “Begin the
first flyby, then alter course according to Cassidy’s instructions.
I want to get images of every square centimeter of that planet. And
I want to identify every one of those ships. If something sinister
is going on here, like Calvin suspects, I want to find it.” In
truth she didn’t much care what happened outside of Imperial space.
But if this was indeed the spot where the deadliest weapons in the
history of the universe were being manufactured, it would affect
the lives of countless Imperial citizens. Uncovering the secrets
here was an important task and she was happy to be doing it, but
she’d rather be on Capital World with Calvin hunting down the
corruption in the Empire to its darkest hiding places.
Godspeed Calvin… be careful.

“
From what I can tell so
far,” said Cassidy, “there definitely is some major industrial
infrastructure here. And a lot of it has been hastily disassembled.
Some of it destroyed. Most of it still remains, though. I’ll get
the best images I can.”

So they were trying to bury the evidence.
Fortunately they hadn’t been fast enough.

“
And there is some kind of
residual product being dumped into the atmosphere of the planet.
Looks like it could be the byproduct of a weaponizing process. I’ll
know more once the computer and the lab have analyzed a sample. I
wish I could launch a probe to scoop some up and begin studying
it.”

Unfortunately a probe would be seen. Despite
how small they were, the little bit of heat they gave off would
likely trigger red flags on every ship here. “Don’t worry, we’ll
retrieve a sample on our next pass,” said Summers. “Mister Cox,
alter course on our next pass to comply. Cassidy will provide nav
coordinates.”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
And whatever you do, keep
that escape vector calculated and ready to go.”

“
Aye, sir.”

“
And Midshipman Ford, keep
both of those eyes glued to that stealth system.”

“
Yes, Commander.”

It might be a long process, but it was one
Summers intended to do right. If the information they collected
here meant the difference between a safe Empire and a corrupt and
endangered one, she and her crew had to do the best damn job they
could. Even though taking their time meant delaying their
rendezvous with their away crew—and new recruits—and having to wait
for resupply and repair. So long as the stealth system, life
support, and engines held together, everything would be all
right.

***

Blackmoth made his way
casually through the city. Blending in with the hurried crowds. He
moved with the flow and no one paid him any attention. He knew
where he was going—
and he knew what he had
to do
.

The false master Zane had asked for the deed
to be a suicide. Blackmoth had prayed about it and asked the One
True God—the One True God agreed. The target’s time to return to
the darkness had come. And a suicide would be an appropriate final
message from the soon-to-be-slain to his surviving friends and
family. For a false master, Zane Martel was often in agreement with
the One True God. More so than the other false master.

Blackmoth reached the apartment tower and
went around the back. When no one was looking, he ran and leapt—an
almost inhuman leap—and caught the railing of a lower balcony. He
proceeded to free-climb all the way to the twentieth floor. Not
because he had to. He could have reached the target’s flat by
taking the stairs. But because it was divine Will. The One True God
wanted him to work for this kill, so work he would. He moved
cautiously, swift when no one was around and remaining still when
someone might be watching. The One True God guided him. His arms
and legs did not tire. There was pain but he ignored it. Pain was
the One True God’s way of telling him he was doing what he should.
And Blackmoth was grateful for the message.

When he reached the target’s balcony he
found the sliding door unlocked. He’d come prepared to force the
door but was grateful that the One True God had blessed him with
this small mercy. It would make setting the scene all the
easier.

Blackmoth silently entered the apartment and
waited.

Chapter 18

Calvin’s people had hit a dead-end in the
search for Merrill O’Reilly. From what they could tell he was
either an alias or a scapegoat name. Whatever the case one thing
was sure, Merrill O’Reilly seemed not to exist. So bringing him in
for questioning was impossible. This forced Calvin to keep digging,
he needed new leads that could get him to Rafael but nothing was
panning out. No one from Intel Wing had responded to his order to
report on the whereabouts of Rafael and the other prisoners, and
Merrill O’Reilly obviously wasn’t going to be telling him anything
useful.

The hunt for Michael Evans, at first, was
having no more success. Calvin’s people had tracked him to his
latest address and stormed it, only to find that he’d vacated the
premises over a week before. Apparently after taking his bribe he’d
decided to fall off the grid and disappear. At first Calvin feared
that Evans had skipped world like Samantha Salas had—leaving him
with no leads in the Datar family murder, but then one of his
investigators had gotten a lead and tracked Michael Evans to the
Ivory Tower Estates.