The Phoenix Crisis (30 page)

Vulture nodded. “I’ll get word out to the
other cells.”

“
Tell them all hell will
rise on Renora soon.”

***

“
Final pass complete,” said
Jay from the helm. He looked very tired. They all did. Even Summers
felt her eyelids getting heavy, and she wasn’t able to think on her
feet as quickly as she was accustomed. With few options for relief,
Summers had had to keep the on-duty officers on continuous watch
while they surveyed Titan Three. A process that had taken over
twenty-hours. The only person missing was Miles Brown who’d spent
the entire time sulking in his quarters. No loss there.

“
Very good,” said Summers,
stifling a yawn. “Midshipman Dupont, can you confirm that our
survey mission is complete?”

“
Yes, sir,” said Cassidy.
“It will take some time to analyze, but we’ve mapped the entire
planet and all of the relevant space. We’ve also collected all the
information we possibly could on the local ships.” While they’d
been in the system, the local convoy ships and the Rotham ship had
hung around, working together to help dismantle more of the
industrial facilities on the planet’s surface. Summers was glad
they’d gotten what images they could and not chosen to arrive
later.

“
In that case set course for
the rendezvous point. Deepest safe jump,” said Summers.

“
Thank god,” whispered
Midshipman Ford from the defense post.

“
Aye, sir,” said Jay. “In
our current condition, I’d say seventy-percent is the deepest we
can go.”

“
Execute jump as soon as
we’re clear,” said Summers. “And once we’re in alteredspace notify
Mister Vargas and the crew of the Arcane Storm that we are en route
and looking forward to resupply and relief.” The ship’s systems
were acting up more and more, its armor was all but gone on the
port side, its ammunition reserves were effectively empty, and a
host of new technical difficulties had arisen. It didn’t help that
the engineering staff, as well as every other department on the
ship, was so understaffed that everyone was worn to the
bone.

“
Unable sir,” said
Jay.

“
What do you
mean?”

“
I mean there seems to be a
problem with our kataspace connector.”

“
Cassidy?” Summers looked to
the ops chief.

“
I confirm that,” said
Cassidy. “We can neither send nor receive kataspace messages. I’ll
contact Mister Cowen and begin coordinating a repair right
away.”

Summers nodded. “Let me know as soon as the
communication system is restored. In the meantime, Mister Cox,
continue on course for the original rendezvous. The Arcane Storm
and a convoy of supply ships should be there waiting for us whether
we hear from them or not. Once we’re stable and clear, I’ll order a
shift change. That way we can get a little bit of rest before we
get there.”  

***

Calvin stared out the window. He watched the
buildings seem to pass by, gliding along. Swarms of pedestrians
too, thousands of citizens in the hurried hustle and bustle of
Capital World.

He stared at them, thinking how removed they
were from all of the many dangers of the galaxy. Safe and secure,
worried more about the price of food and rent than Rotham fleets,
or hordes of Remorii, or a conspiracy within the government itself.
Calvin envied them. And yet he knew he could never be one of them.
Not truly. He had to be involved and in the know, as much as
possible. If things were bleak and hopeless, he had to be there on
the front line, giving all he had, struggling and fighting to the
bitter end. It was his calling. It was who he was. But it also
filled his life with anxiety and concern. And as he’d tried to do
all he could to spearhead the investigation into the Phoenix Ring,
it was thoughts of his mother that kept him up at night. He’d been
burning the candle at both ends, and in the interim, when he did
try to catch a few hours of sleep, he awoke often, seemingly every
half hour. He tossed and turned. Feeling either too hot or too
cold. And, in the blackness, realized how alone he actually
was.

He missed his crew. Lighthearted Miles who
always put a smile on his face; graceful and unshakable Sarah who
was clutch whenever he needed her; Shen whose brilliance and
cleverness were the true story behind the Nighthawk’s many
successes; and even good-old uptight Summers. He missed Rain too,
with crazy untamable red hair. He hadn’t known her for long, yet
her stubborn optimism and penchant for philosophy had swiftly grown
on him. What he wouldn’t give to have her next to him, encouraging
and supporting him, all while questioning the ethical implications
of everything they did. He smiled as he thought of her and imagined
the things she’d say. He even missed their daily visits they’d
shared when she gave him his treatment dose of equarius. Those
trips to the infirmary had always embarrassed and annoyed him, or
so he thought, until they were gone. Rain would be proud of him
though, he’d been good and followed her schedule exactly. He
intended to be rid of equarius forever. Even though the relief it
provided was as tempting now as it had ever been, and Calvin felt a
need for its soothing calmness—this investigation was making him
pull out his hair—but even more importantly he wanted to be free.
And wanted Rain to be proud of him.

Most of all he missed Christine. Yes, she
was gone. He knew that. And he accepted that—at least as best he
knew how—but he pined for her all the same. When she’d been with
him he understood how sincerely beautiful and wonderful and
worth-the-investment life was. He felt like the luckiest man in the
galaxy and knew that, whatever would come, he had been given the
most precious gift that could ever be given—a companion to face the
tempests with him. To help him weather the storms. And to multiply
the joys of the good times. And then, as sudden as waking, she’d
been ripped from him. And he was alone again. Just himself. True
he’d been given the chance to play a major role in saving the
Empire. A chance he would not squander. But even as he toiled and
worked to fulfill his duty to the maximum degree, he wondered what
he was doing it for.

Not for
myself
, he thought. If his entire life
experience was simply an enterprise of collecting all the wealth,
comforts, power, and resources that he could, he’d just as soon end
it now.
We all die
,
he thought.
If we live a hundred years
collecting treasure or are stillborn from the beginning, what’s the
difference? In the end it’s the same outcome. We decompose into
nothing
.
And if we
are destined to be forgotten and the whole universe is destined to
keep expanding until everything is so far apart it freezes and all
life ends, then why is anything important whatsoever?

He could hear Rain’s voice in his head as he
imagined what she would say. Something about the value of life
being in the journey and not the destination, it wasn’t the final
outcome that mattered, it was the story of how it got there. The
beauty of a song was not confined to its final note, it was the
composition of all the many notes that contributed to the end that
made it worthwhile. That gave it its value. Just like life. But
Calvin still couldn’t help but wonder what was the point of any of
it if there was no one to share it with? And the only person he
wanted to share it all with was gone forever…

He stared out the window at the pedestrians
again. The hordes of people. And, as he continued to ponder, he no
longer saw nameless masses and instead saw the individuals. And the
families. A husband and wife with an infant son here, an old man
and his children there, a young child being led by the hand by his
grandma, a pair of young teenage sweethearts kissing on the
walkway…these were all stories, so many, many stories, his life
would scarcely brush them. Perhaps he would never know any, but
that didn’t matter. His choices would greatly affect their lives
and influence their stories. He sacrificed and struggled and gave
everything, possibly even his own life if that’s what it cost, to
restore the Empire for these people. It seemed counter intuitive to
him to find purpose in something that didn’t directly benefit
him—how did that promote his own survival?—and yet it worked. And
he felt a measure of peace.

“
You okay?” asked Nikolai.
The fierce-looking man broke his usual silence and gave Calvin a
look of concern. Calvin wondered how long Nikolai had been watching
him as he’d stared out the window with a frown on his
face.

“
Yes, I’m fine,” said
Calvin, clearing his throat. He opened up the binder of documents
he’d brought along and resumed prepping himself for the
interrogations he was going to conduct. The security preparations
had been made and his people were maneuvering into position to make
the arrests he’d ordered—though some of the people on the list had
yet to be found. Calvin had confidence in his teams, however, and
wanted to be prepared. Despite how much work there was to do,
Calvin had difficulty focusing. He ran a larger organization than
he’d ever imagined he would, and he was always surrounded by
people, yet feelings of loneliness persisted like never
before.

“
It’s your mum, isn’t it?”
asked Nikolai.

“
What?”

“
That’s why you’re so down,”
his eyes narrowed and he looked at Calvin knowingly. “It’s all
right,” he said. “I’m a total momma’s boy myself. No shame
there.”

Calvin wouldn’t have described himself as a
momma’s boy. He loved his mother, of course, and would try to call
her and write to her whenever he could—and he thought to do it—but
he often forgot, could never remember her birthday, didn’t usually
spend holidays with her, and saw her probably only twice a year.
Not because he had ill feelings toward her, truthfully she was the
only family he valued, but his lifestyle growing up on Capital
World, especially with a working mother and no father around, had
taught him to be independent. And he was used to not having her
around. But now that she was gone, he’d give anything to have her
back. He wished he hadn’t forgotten to call her on her last
birthday, and he swore to himself he would find her, somehow, and
that she’d be safe. The trouble was, he didn’t know where to
begin.

“
Take it from me—” said
Nikolai. He was interrupted by the screech of brakes and burnt
wheels as the car swerved suddenly and came to a stop.

“
What the hell?” asked
Calvin. He couldn’t see through the front of the car, the panel
separating him from the driver was shut, and he couldn’t see much
out the side window. A crowd of on-lookers was gathering and then,
like a herd of animals catching sight of a predator, they
scattered. Fleeing every which way. Some people trampling over
others.

Calvin drew his pistol and reached for the
door handle. Nikolai stopped him.

“
I’ll find out what’s going
on, sir,” he said.

Calvin nodded.

Nikolai opened the door and, the instant he
did, he lurched back in pain and grunted. Blood appeared on his
left shoulder and soaked through his coat.

“
Get down!” Calvin yelled.
He reached out and pulled Nikolai down into cover just as another
bullet whizzed by, this one sinking deep into the upholstered
bench. It’d been aimed for Nikolai’s head. Together, they forced
the door closed. A third bullet crashed into the bullet-resistant
window but failed to penetrate it. Calvin looked at the spent
bullet, trapped in the armored glass like it was a museum piece in
a display case.

“
New plan, stay here,” said
Nikolai. He pressed his right hand firmly down on his left
shoulder, trying to stall the bleeding as best he could.

“
Are you hurt bad?” asked
Calvin. He searched the car for something to dress the
wound

“
First aid kit, under the
seat,” said Nikolai through gritted teeth.

Calvin found it and flipped it open. He
recalled his Intel Wing training and, though his medical knowledge
was nothing beyond a basic emergency technician, he knew he had to
do all he could to help Nikolai until they got him to a higher
echelon of care.

He placed a sterile pad firmly over the
wound and wrapped it thickly with bandages. Nikolai closed his eyes
tightly but bore the pain without a sound. Next Calvin checked for
an exit wound, it would do no good to treat only half the
injury.

“
Bullet… struck bone,” said
Nikolai with difficulty. “No exit…”

Calvin checked him over anyway, just to be
sure. Nikolai seemed to be right. “Now we wait here until the
police take care of it, then we’ll take you to a hospital. Just
hang in there a bit.”

Nikolai grunted. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve
had far worse.” He looked out the window and the expression on his
face changed for the worse.

Calvin looked too, wanting to see what had
startled Nikolai. At first he didn’t see anything, and then he
looked up and spotted a man on a third-floor balcony. He raised a
large black object and pointed it down at the motorcade. “Is that
what I think—”

A rocket roared to life, glowing bright red,
and soared down toward the middle car—the one carrying the decoy
Calvin.

“
Oh
shit
!” said Calvin, scrambling away
from the window. There was a deafening explosion and fire and
debris flew everywhere.  

“
Go!” said Nikolai “Now!” he
shoved Calvin toward the far door. Calvin didn’t argue. He fumbled
with the lock and then opened the door. He knew that once he was
outside he’d likely take fire from snipers but, compared to
becoming a fireball, a bullet didn’t sound so bad.