The Phoenix Crisis (7 page)

Calvin tapped the intercom again and called
the lab.

“
Midshipman Hughes
here.”

“
Mister Hughes,” said
Calvin, “is the lab currently analyzing a listening device that was
sent down there?”

“
Aye, sir.”

“
Any results on that so
far?”

“
We found some skin cells
and hair that the computer is analyzing for a DNA match currently.
As for the device itself, it’s still being checked over to see if
we missed anything.”

That sounded promising. “Has the computer
come back with any results?”

“
The analysis is completing
now—hold on one moment, sir.”

“
Very well.”

Calvin waited for over two minutes before
Hughes replied.
        

“
Sorry about that,
sir—”

“
It’s fine, just tell me you
have some good news.”

“
That I do, sir. The
computer has positively ID’d the skin samples and the
hair.”

“
And?”

“
They belong to Midshipman
Patrick O’Conner.”

“
Thank you,” said Calvin and
he closed the line. It made sense for Patrick to be the mole, he
would have known the proper Intel Wing codes that had been used.
And, based on reports of his behavior at Remus, he clearly
sympathized with Nimoux and Intel Wing so he had motive. Now,
finally, there was a method. This new report gave Calvin some idea
of how Patrick knew about Echo Three—which he’d then, apparently,
leaked to Intel Wing. Hopefully establishing this meant Patrick had
been operating solo as the mole and that there were no further
security threats on the Nighthawk. But, just to be sure, Calvin
intended to maintain his restricted communications
policy.

“
Is that all, sir?” asked
Cassidy.

“
No it isn’t. I want you to
run a full diagnostic on all critical systems on every deck,
especially all life support systems. If there are any problems
found—and there likely will be from power surges that occurred
during the battle with the Phoenix—do whatever it takes to get them
resolved. I want the ship to be completely safe. Work with Andre
Cowen as needed and if you or the chief engineer need anything, let
me know at once.”

“
Aye, sir.”

“
Then, once that’s finished,
I want you to meticulously examine the air systems on the brig
deck. There were some failures there that resulted in the death of
a prisoner.”

“
Patrick,” she said in a
reverent tone. Patrick had belonged to Cassidy’s same shift and the
two had likely been friends, at least until Patrick had decided to
mutiny.

“
Yes, Patrick. I want to be
double sure that the systems failures that resulted in his death
were purely coincidental, and not the result of deliberate
sabotage.”

“
I’ll check them over to the
best of my ability, sir.”

“
That will be all.” He
dismissed Cassidy and then gave an order to the bridge to stand
down from condition one to condition two. The explanations were all
in place, Patrick had been the mole and he’d died of a systems
failure caused by the firefight with the Phoenix, so there was no
clear and present danger to the ship or his crew. But Calvin still
felt uncomfortable about the whole thing, so he didn’t order the
ship to stand all the way down to condition three. He wanted people
on their guard.

The ship was finally on its way to meet up
with Kalila—and had been for almost half an hour—they still had
time to spare and Calvin hoped that there would be no new crises in
that time.

Chapter 5

The plan was coming
together.
Mostly
.

Zane Martel received word from his second
that the other members of the Phoenix Ring were concerned about the
timing of the operation. “Renora should have generated more results
in the Assembly by now,” they said. Zane dismissed their concerns
and sent his second back to the others with a message assuring them
that all was moving forward as it should. The situation on Renora
was a developing chaos that Zane’s people had well under thumb, and
as for the Assembly—they would fall in line eventually. Zane had
assurances from Caerwyn, his brother—who was not a member of the
Phoenix Ring but was nonetheless sympathetic to their goals—that
the mood on the Assembly floor was one of growing anxiety. In time
the moment would be ripe to challenge the Akiras for the throne,
but not yet.

As a corporate magnate and acting chief
executive of MXR—which his father Brinton no longer took a role
in—Zane had considerable resources at his disposal. Other key
members of the Phoenix Ring had wealth, power, and status that
proved useful, but Zane at the helm of the mighty MXR brought the
lion’s share. And that had given him the opportunity to seize the
role of de facto leader—an opportunity he had not missed. Now,
though, there came certain responsibilities. He had to keep peace
among the different interests that’d allied themselves with him, he
had to manage a very delicate alliance with alien interests—which
he knew were extremely dangerous and self-serving—and he had to
achieve a certain level of results. Otherwise his brother would not
be able to successfully wrestle away the throne and all would’ve
been for naught.

Lately they’d had some success, via bribes
and extortion, identifying key members of the opposition, the
so-called Organization. It was a group of blind would-be patriots
who defended the status quo and acted as unknown pawns of the
military-industrial complex that had grown so enormous inside the
Empire. Their leader, White Rook, remained as elusive and
mysterious as the Phoenix Ring itself, but Zane knew better than to
underestimate him or her. Which was why it was so important that he
root out the rest of the Organization’s assets on Capital World and
eliminate them. The time of ascension was fast approaching and,
when the Empire was finally reborn, it would be reborn here. Here
at the center of everything. When that time came Zane wanted to be
sure that the Organization had no more resources to tap and no more
cards to play; they would be out of the game. Too distant and
dispersed to intervene in time.

Success had been slow and steady, but a few
variables remained that gave Zane concern. One of them was the
elusive Calvin Cross, a one-time asset that had been apparently
recruited by the Organization. Making him a threat. His talents and
resources were formidable, despite their practical limitations, and
Zane would not have a rogue further jeopardize their plans. He
didn’t know what information White Rook, or Asari Raidan, or
someone else in the Organization, had fed Calvin, but Calvin had
been sighted in Remus System. Just as the isotome weapons deal was
about to go down between the Organization’s fake Enclave agent and
the Rahajiim. Zane hadn’t yet gotten a full report on what’d
happened—as it had yet to be determined—but based on reports from
Intel Wing operatives, communicated to Zane through Director Jack
Edwards Prime, Calvin and his ship had been present in Remus. That
was around the same time the Phoenix Ring’s operative, who’d been
down on the surface, had stopped maintaining contact with the
Phoenix Ring. The way Zane saw it, only a few things were possible.
Calvin and his crew abducted, killed, or recruited the agent—all of
which were potentially quite bad. Especially if the agent, who was
a replicant himself, revealed how the Phoenix Ring was acquiring
replicants and which people had already been replaced. Or else the
Rahajiim had abducted, killed, or recruited the Phoenix Ring
operative. Perhaps they had something to offer that the replicant
wanted, or maybe they’d learned of the deception and knew the
replicant wasn’t a true Enclave agent. Perhaps the Enclave itself
had ceased to be fooled. From Zane’s perspective there was no way
of knowing, but if Calvin had taken possession of the replicant,
Zane wanted to know. He had to have some sense of what he was up
against.

“
Well if it isn’t my
favorite prisoner,” said Zane as he walked into the basement
dungeon. The guards escorting him stepped aside so he could get a
clear view of the prisoner. A tall, somewhat lanky man was chained
to the ceiling and floor, his arms raised uncomfortable above his
head.        

The prisoner raised his head and a look of
disgust and recognition came over him as he spotted Zane. He spat
and lowered his head.

“
He still isn’t
cooperating,” said the guard nearest the prisoner. Next to him was
a table with a variety of
instruments of
persuasion
and by the look of things, the
prisoner had already been tortured significantly. His clothes were
removed and bruises and cuts decorated his body. There was also a
pool of dried blood at his feet.

“
Come now, Rafael, it
doesn’t have to be like this,” said Zane. He stepped closer and
looked the prisoner in his defiant eyes. Rafael remained
silent.

“
You know, we have ways of
making things a whole lot better for you… and a whole lot
worse
.”

Still no reaction from Rafael.

“
He hasn’t said a damned
thing all day,” said the guard. “Shall I keep starving him and
limiting his water?”

“
No, we don’t want him to
die,” said Zane. He found the sight of Rafael in this condition
oddly amusing. Almost like he was observing a puzzle that was just
a few pieces away from being solved. Despite the prisoner’s mighty
display of resilience and defiance, something about him looked on
edge of giving way.

“
Good idea sir,” said the
guard. “He’ll talk sooner if he has to keep pissing and shitting
himself.”

Judging by the looks of things there had
already been a fair amount of that, and goose bumps on the
prisoner’s skin revealed he didn’t like the cold air blasting him
from the vent.

“
In time you will
cooperate,” said Zane, looking Rafael squarely in the eyes. “And
you will ask Calvin the questions I demand you ask him.”

“
And if I don’t?” said
Rafael at long last.

“
Then everyone and
everything you love will start disappearing—starting with your
fingers and toes.”

In response, Rafael spit again. This time a
large mucousy glob that landed on Zane’s hand-made suit. The guard
nearest him whipped out a handkerchief and started dabbing at the
spit and the guard with the torture instruments withdrew an
electric stun baton and jammed it hard into Rafael’s ribs, shocking
him with pain.

“
I’m sorry about that,
Boss,” said the closest guard.

“
No matter,” said Zane. He
could buy every suit on Capital World if he wanted—and every
company that made them—and he’d never feel the slightest difference
in his wealth. “But do show our guest that we mean business. Index
finger, left hand, see that it’s gone.”

“
Yes, sir,” said the guard
next to Rafael. He picked up a pair of pruning shears and
approached the prisoner, who squirmed against his
chains.

“
The more you take from me
now, the less I’ll have to lose tomorrow. And the easier it will be
to resist you,” said Rafael. He did a good job of showing no fear
in his voice, even though it was clear as day on his
face.

Zane smirked. In another life he would have
liked to have this one working for him. “Just remember, you are the
one making things hard on yourself. Don’t be your own enemy. It’s
time for you to look to your own needs. Rather than protecting
those who’ve abandoned you.”

“
Go to
hell
,” said Rafael.

“
Oh I intend to,” said Zane.
“And the way things are going, it looks like you’ll be getting
there first. Be sure to save a place for me.”

***

Three hours had passed since the Arcane
Storm and the Nighthawk parted ways. Now the battered stealth ship
was gliding seamlessly through alteredspace. Calvin had some time
to kill, and the chance to mentally prepare himself for the
rendezvous. He hadn’t forgotten how easily and completely Kalila
had charmed him the last time they’d met face to face, and he
didn’t want to bend to her will like hot steel in a fire. If he was
going to work with her, and trust her, she needed to earn that
trust. And until she’d been properly acquitted in his mind for the
attack on Renora, he knew he had to be on his guard with her. And,
if it turned out that she was behind the attack that had led to
mass chaos and civilian deaths in the scores of thousands… that
made her an enemy, not a friend.

He lay in his bed in the darkness, staring
up at the ceiling. He wanted to catch up on sleep—he hadn’t
properly slept since the Remus mission—but his excitement,
curiosity, and anxiety of the encounter to come forced him awake.
He tossed and turned for the better part of twenty minutes before
resigning himself to lie awake.

He remembered the princess’s beautiful face
in his mind, like an echo of a warmer yesterday. And the feelings
that had shot through him when she’d touched his arm, and their
eyes had met, and she’d spoken his name. Pleading with him to help
her. Trusting him. That someone so far above his station knew of
him, and had sought him out…

No
.
He wouldn’t be dazzled by her rank, or her status, or her very
effective manipulation tactics, he reminded himself. People were
dying in Renora, even now. The political situation across the
Empire was becoming unstable and unpredictable, and a very real and
dark corruption had taken root inside the upper echelons of the
military leadership. For all Calvin knew Kalila was a part of
it—though he doubted it, and wanted not to believe it—he forced
himself to consider the possibility that she was maneuvering many
of these events for her own selfish interest, perhaps to wrestle
away the throne from her father and older siblings, maybe she had
some large grand design for the Empire, one that might align with
the Phoenix Ring.