Read The Phoenix Darkness Online

Authors: Richard L. Sanders

Tags: #romance, #suspense, #mystery, #military, #space opera, #science fiction, #conspiracy, #aliens, #war, #phoenix conspiracy

The Phoenix Darkness (56 page)

“Now you know what I meant when I said I only
had time to prep one of the shuttles,” said Tristan. “I would've
searched the other for bombs too, had I the time.”

“We can mourn them later,” said Raidan.
“Right now we need to concentrate on our plan, or else we’ll be the
ones needing mourning.”

The shuttle docked with the
Harbinger
and the airlocks opened, allowing them to exit through the jet
bridge.

“Move, move,
move
,” said Raidan to his
men. They filed out first, then Raidan, and Tristan brought up the
rear.

As they made their way cautiously through the
hangar, they found it was empty of people, which was simultaneously
a good and bad thing. Mira’s shuttles were docked, which meant she
had in fact beaten them here and could have arranged an ambush in
the hangar and had not. But on the other side of the coin, Raidan
had asked several of his men to be waiting here for him, in force.
Either they’d changed allegiances or been wiped out. They did find
some blood on the deck, but no bodies. Mira’s people had dragged
the corpses away, no doubt to deprive Raidan of the knowledge of
whose people had been lost and how many.

“They can’t be too far ahead,” said Raidan,
once they were clear of the hangar. “Tristan, take these three and
capture Main Engineering. The rest of you, with me.”

“Yes, sir!” His people obeyed. Sending only
four people to Main Engineering seemed like a paltry force, but
Raidan knew how ferocious Tristan was; he probably didn’t need any
men at all. Raidan had a feeling when he got to the Bridge he would
be glad he'd brought the bulk of his soldiers with him.

 

Chapter 23

 

Sir Reginald watched the blackness vanish,
replaced by stars. His flight crew reported the successful
completion of their alteredspace exit.

“Sir, we have arrived in Ophiuchus
system.”

A glance at the 3D display showed his ship
surrounded by countless other smaller ones and more appearing with
every second. These ships were his charges. Sir Reginald led a
greatly reinforced Rook Squadron, in the name of the queen, to
defend Ophiuchus system. Without wanting to admit favoritism, it
was quietly known that Kalila prized Ophiuchus above all her other
core worlds because of its bounty of badly needed resources, and so
she’d given Sir Reginald the great honor of defending it, along
with every ship she could possibly spare and then some.

It was an impressive force, one-hundred and
sixteen ships strong, including: his personal flagship, the
dreadnought, ISS
Renown
, twenty battleships, thirty-five
frigates, and forty corvettes, along with twenty support ships and
around a hundred starfighters.

“Sir, we are being hailed by the main
platform.”

“Accept transmission,” he commanded.

The picture of a sixty-something year old man
with trimmed, grizzled hair and a blue-and-black uniform appeared,
along with the rank insignia for First Commodore. His eyes were red
and his face showed stress marks and creases; Sir Reginald doubted
the commodore had gotten a proper night’s sleep in over a week.

“Ophiuchus One to
Renown
,” said the
commodore, allowing a small sense of relief to appear on his face.
“You’re certainly a sight for sore eyes.”

“I’m just glad we got here in time,
Commodore,” said Sir Reginald.

“It will be an honor to serve with the likes
of you, My Lord,” said the commodore, no doubt recognizing Sir
Reginald and wanting to give justice to his station.

“The honor is mine,” said Sir Reginald.
Despite being a Knight Commander and one of the queen’s most
trusted, Sir Reginald did not truly believe himself superior to the
high officers of the service, contrary to his titles.

“You flatter me, sir,” said the commodore.
“And, if you will forgive my candor, your flotilla makes for an
impressive vanguard, a damned impressive one, but I cannot help
asking, where is the rest of the fleet?”

“You’re looking at it.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“The majority of the queen’s forces have been
committed to the engagement in the Thetican System.”

“I beg your forgiveness, My Lord, but that is
absurd! Thetican System has not even declared for her. Those
cowards have oscillated between neutrality and direct support for
Caerwyn Martel and his unlawful Assembly!
We
, however, are
her most loyal system and, dare I say it, her most important
system.” The commodore had undoubtedly been placed personally in
charge of the system’s defense by the local magistrate, and it
seemed the man had pinned all of his hope on rescue by the queen’s
fleet. Now he looked beside himself, a man without any idea of what
to do. Sir Reginald did not fault him.

“Ophiuchus, like all star systems that have
declared for Her Majesty, is
invaluable
, which is why she
has sent me and this great force to defend you at all costs. You
may be pleased to note our orders are to hold position in this
system until the threat has dissipated; retreat is not
authorized.”

“That is some small comfort, but I cannot
help questioning the logic behind Her Highness’s strategy, if you
please forgive my impudence, My Lord.”

“With me, you are free to speak your
mind.”

“The queen has sent you to our rescue, yet
she commits herself and her primary fleet to the defense of a
system which doesn’t even recognize her as their queen…”

“That is true. And because of it, I am
authorized by her to apologize she could not come here personally,
nor send a greater force, in your time of deepest need.”

“Apologies may mend fences, Sir Knight, but
they do not win battles.”

“I understand and agree,” said Sir Reginald.
“But you must understand the queen
cannot
allow her realm to
be invaded by aliens.”

“A threat from outside the home is a serious
danger,” admitted the commodore. “But a threat from
inside
the home…that is an imminent danger.”

“The truth of that assertion notwithstanding,
we have our orders, each of us, and must now look to the execution
of our duties, a fact I am certain an accomplished military man
such as yourself can appreciate.”

“Yes, Sir Reginald,” said the commodore. He
did not look happy, but offered a salute.

“Now, please give me a report of the latest
intelligence, so I might best deploy my starships for your
defense.”

“First we’ll feel the wind, then the
hurricane,” said the commodore darkly. “The enemy vanguard is about
thirty minutes ahead of the main host. We count one-hundred and
fifty warships in the vanguard alone, including at least sixty
battleships. As for the main fleet, well,
that’s
the
hurricane. We estimate a force in the order of
five hundred
warships, not counting a fleet of supply ships, including countless
troop transports for planetary invasion.”

Sir Reginald felt a deathly chill. If these
numbers were accurate, then Caerwyn had done a lot more rebuilding
of his forces than everyone had believed. Sir Reginald knew Caerwyn
had been rushing to finish whatever starships he had under
construction, and that he’d pressed much of his merchant marine
into service by outfitting their vessels with guns and crews, but
still…a combined force of five-hundred and fifty warships bearing
down on them? Such a large number was hard to believe, especially
following the tremendous losses Caerwyn had suffered in the Battle
of Apollo.

The commodore must have noticed the grim,
blank expression on Sir Reginald’s face because he said, “You do
not look pleased to hear it, My Lord.”

“Are you sure there exists such a force?”
asked Sir Reginald, his mind still reeling at the numbers. How
could he have so many ready for battle, especially after sustaining
such losses during the Battle of Apollo? Sir Reginald could only
imagine how much greater those numbers would be had the Apollo
Yards survived.

“There is very little doubt of it, sir. And
now you understand my indignation. With a plea to forgive the
impropriety of my words, I must ask the question no one else seems
to be asking. When Ophiuchus falls into enemy hands, as we both
know it will, from where does the queen expect to harvest the
resources she will need to rebuild her fleet? Surely, after
engagement against the Rotham, she will need more minerals and
metals and other resources. If not from here, then where?”

Sir Reginald had no answer for the commodore,
and, truthfully, though it had been a hard choice for the queen to
make, he was not sure she’d made the right one.

“If they take this system,” said Sir
Reginald, unable to think of anything more reassuring to say. “They
must do it over my own corpse. Because I will
not
allow
these worlds to fall!”

“I am grateful for your aid, and I deeply
admire your personal commitment to us in our hour of need,” said
the commodore, “But please, should you and your men be made to
realize should you hold the line here with us, then you and they
will die here, with us. There is no hope for victory.”

Sir Reginald knew this was true. And it was
with a heavy heart that he reaffirmed his commitment to remain,
along with his ships. “We shall stand with our brothers in defense
of Ophiuchus,” he said. A twinge of sorrow tinted his words, but
there was no hint of regret. It was the greatest honor to lay down
one’s life for one’s country and queen. He knew it, his men knew
it, and now all that was left for them was to accept that honor and
make the enemy pay dearly for every inch they gained.

“I am grateful to hear it,” said the
commodore. His words were sincere, but his tone dour. Sir Reginald
could tell there was still a great deal of fight left in the man;
he wasn’t about to fall over easily, but he was also a man who had
accepted the inevitability of his fate.
I suppose now so am
I
, thought Sir Reginald.

“Now onto the matter of tactics,” said Sir
Reginald. “If I deploy my forces in the outer region, I might be
able to ambush and destroy the enemy’s vanguard before the main
host arrives. Then, if my squadron is as expedient as I know them
to be, we can race back to the safety of the platforms and defend
against the main host together, shoulder to shoulder.”

“That would be a good plan, except we believe
the early arrival of the enemy vanguard to be a feint to force us
into committing to such a strategy,” said the commander. “They
would like nothing more than to keep our forces apart and
eviscerate your squadron from afar while my defense ships and
platforms can do nothing but watch and await our turn on the
executioner’s block.”

After some thought, Sir Reginald agreed. His
initial plan was too risky and the likelihood the enemy force would
regroup and attack as a singular unit was high. They would inflict
the most damage and receive the fewest casualties if they arrived
in rigid formation, cooperatively focusing their targets.

But what would work best for them would also
work best for Sir Reginald and the local defense force.

“In that case, I think it is best for me to
move my squadron deep inside the system and then hold against the
enemy while in close formation with your platforms. We can
coordinate fire against priority targets.”

“Yes. And we can eliminate the risk of them
pulling us apart and taking us at the flanks, so long as your
captains have the discipline to hold formation.”

“That, I can assure you, they do.” Sir
Reginald knew his starship crews would remain true and loyal. He
thought this partly because he’d led many of them in battle before,
but also because he had faith in their devotion to duty and in the
quality of their military discipline.

“Good, because when the line starts to
crumble and the ships start lighting up, falling like a line of
blocks collapsing one after another, it can be mighty tempting for
a captain to try and save his vessel and route from the
battle.”

“Tempting it may be for some,” Sir Reginald
admitted. “But they are cowards. And, I assure you, Commodore,
there are no cowards here.”

“Glad to hear it. Together, we shall make
them bleed.”

“More than that,” said Sir Reginald, with a
passionate fire in his voice. “We will cut the bastards down at
every corner; we'll make them pay through the nose for every scrap
of purchase they take from us. Whatever they would have, it shall
cost them
dearly
.”

“Hear, hear!”

With that, he gave his ships their orders,
and together they took their places inside the defensive formation
he and the commodore had agreed upon. Then all of them, starships,
platforms, starfighters, and everyone else, waited, standing
shoulder to shoulder on full battle alert, vigilantly watching the
stars and all the emptiness, knowing that this one, precious, quiet
moment, this calm before the storm, would be their last.

Chapter 24

 

Raidan and ten soldiers arrived at the
Bridge. He expected to find it heavily fortified, but when they
reached it and stormed through the door, weapons held high, ready
for a fierce fight, they found it deserted. Not a man or woman to
be seen. The Bridge crew itself was even absent. It just looked
like the command center of a massive ghost ship with consoles still
active, seats still warm, but not a soul to be found.

“Fan out,” said Raidan. “And be cautious.”
Can it really be as easy as this?
he wondered.

His soldiers divided out, each heading to
check on different stations, eyes keen for anything suspicious.
“There could be anything up here,” said Raidan. “Beware of
booby-traps, fixed explosives, enemy ambush, anything.”

As for himself, he stayed more to the rear of
his men, wanting to keep his eyes on the entire Bridge. He watched
his people begin to clear console after console and station after
station, thus far still finding nothing.

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