Authors: Kris Powers

The Phoenix Project (34 page)

“The Alliance
though,” Ranik said picking up his glass of Rye Whiskey and presenting it as
the solidification of his point.

“They’re militaristic, but they have more
similarities to us than differences. They’re more organized than we are.”

“So are armies,” Ranik said.

“So are alliances.”

“You want to ally with half of a race?”
Ranik asked,

“The Alliance
is closer to forty percent of their race.”

“So we’ll side with the minority?” Ranik
asked, looking at his cousin.

“I’m not saying that, I’m just speculating
about the future.”

“Yes. Certainly. But if this doesn’t come
down to an alliance with half of an entire race but approximately half of it,
who would you choose?”

“This is about your trust in Nadine,”
Lathiel replied.

“What of it?”

“She might be trying to play on our
ignorance of their culture.”

He harrumphed and took a swig from his
glass, emptying it. “I don’t think so.”

“How do you know?”

“I trust her,” Ranik replied.

“Why?”

“Stop talking like a Human, Lathiel. I just
know. Nadine’s a good woman,” he said and got up for another glass of whiskey.

“I’ve got the last of it.”

“To the Ruby then,” he said, patriotically.

“The rest of them are different.”

“What?” Ranik asked as he placed a bottle
of Ruby brandy down on the coffee table. He poured a full glass of the glowing
liquid.

“The Coalition.”

“Yes, the Coalition,” Ranik said, heartily
and sat down.

“They are suspicious of us.”

“They do have a reason to be,” Ranik said.

“That’s true, but this suspicious?”

“Also true,” Ranik replied revolving the brandy
around in his glass.

“We do have to ask ourselves what to do if
these hearings find against us.”

“You mean reparations?”

“I mean reprimands,” Lathiel replied.

“A political do your time or a real “This is
your sentence”?”

“Maybe both.”

“Not an outcome I would like,” Ranik said.

“How would our ancestors judge us?”

“They’d probably hang us for our offenses,
perceived or not. I heard they preferred to have people sentenced to death
garroted.”

“And we were just talking of similarities
to our ancestors,” Lathiel said.

“Only on the Coalition’s side.”

“Yes and there are seven Coalition members
on a twelve member panel.”

“Hmm,” Ranik said, revolving the glowing
crimson brandy in his glass. “That still doesn’t mean we just leave.”

“It is an option. They could never catch us
with our fold drives and they would face at least a ten year journey if they
tried to follow us.”

“There may be nothing left to find in ten
years,” Ranik said, watching his image relate the story of their first
discovery of the wormhole.

“Yes Ranik, I know.”

“All the more reason to make friends and
stay,” Ranik said.

“I suppose so, but aren’t we taking our
chances?”

“On what front?” Ranik asked.

“The Nevargh on one side and revenge on the
other.”

“Fury to the left and fury to the right
with only a dark, narrow road between,” Ranik quoted.

“That sounds familiar, where does it come
from?”

“It’s
Jusrick’s Firesong
from the
ancient times,” Ranik replied.

“I never knew you were so well read.”

“One of my many pastimes.”

“It seems an appropriate passage,” Lathiel
said.

“I hope this turns out better.”

“There was a second part to that line,
wasn’t there?”

“It goes: Fury to the left and fury to the
right with only a dark, narrow road between that led to our sorrow,” Ranik
quoted.

They sat in silence and watched the recap
of Ranik’s testimony on the screen.

The plans for the new Alliance fleet boasted some ten thousand
ships arranged in a new configuration, emulating the improvements in store for
the nation. There would be ten fleets divided into ten divisions. Those
divisions would be divided into five wings with each wing having four
squadrons. To date this new approach to fleet organization is still in use.

The Coalition’s preference for a large
fleet of frigates over the Alliance’s
smaller fleet of battleships showed their belief that space tactics were moving
towards smaller, more maneuverable, ships. Cruisers and destroyers of the old
fleet would be retrofitted and returned to service in supporting roles for
their newer cousins. The tall carriers were slated for decommission and would
never serve again in either fleet.

A New Century, A New Navy

by Robert Tenor

Chapter XII

Elliot kept a
meal warm in the food processor while he waited out the ten minutes until
Nadine was expected to arrive. She had suggested the date to get to know him
better. Elliot could hardly refuse now that he had such an intimate knowledge
of her. He sat down and turned on the INN.
Presently, they were speaking of one of the panel members, a Coalition
representative named Nancy Wright. She was a member of MERA of all things and
an adjutant to Louis of the Twelve. He saw no indication of any abilities of
her own and believed her to be more of an administrative cog in their machine.
The biography seemed to support his supposition. Although she was a quiet
person in nature, she knew how to climb the ladder of her hierarchy.

The sound of the biographer’s droning voice
was interrupted by the beep of a communications signal. Elliot sighed at the
intrusion so close to dinner. He gave his voice authorization for the high
level clearance signal. The dark, aging features of Fleet Admiral Nelson
appeared on the screen.

“Admiral, good to see you,” Elliot said.

“I just wanted to give you a heads up. Our
military analysts are predicting a finding against the Ferine.”

“I don’t need an analyst to tell me that,”
Elliot said.

“There’s more. We’re expecting an
extradition request in a few weeks and I’ve got to speak to the Senate and the
Prime Ministers.”

“Extradition request?” Elliot asked.

“There isn’t an official one yet. We’re
expecting one as soon as they find against the Ferine.”

“They really are that certain aren’t they? I’ll
see if there is anything we can do to change that. What do you think the
Coalition would do if they ended up with the Ferine in their possession and a
guilty verdict?”

“I think a stretched neck for a Ferine has
the same effect as it does for a Human,” Nelson said.

“This isn’t the eighteenth century.”

“Concept is the same, Eli.”

“Surely they wouldn’t resort to that.”

“Are you sure? Are you really sure?” Nelson
asked.

“Than I assume you are recommending against
any extradition request.”

“Haven’t made up my mind yet,” he replied.

“I hope you keep me updated.”

“You’re first on my list,” Nelson said and
ended the communication.

Elliot sighed out stress and allowed his
back to sink into the plush couch of grey only to have an involuntary jerk of
alarm shoot through his muscles at Nadine’s early buzz for entry. He sat back
up and rose to his feet to allow his Coalition counterpart entry into his
quarters. He pressed the small dark button next to the door and saw the MERA
operative in loose, willowy clothing of sea green with a low neckline to tease
Elliot’s eyes. She held a small lavender bag in one hand.

“Very oceanic, General.”

“I just got it yesterday. I needed some new
clothes,” she said, exposing a satisfied smile.

“Come in.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked. Her smile
disappeared from her face.

“Just an update. Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure,” she said, elongating the word in
suspicion of his explanation.

“Just a minute,” he said and walked to the
kitchen. She placed the bag on the floor and followed him on slow legs. Nadine
paused at the entrance to the kitchen as he poured two cups of coffee from a
fresh pot sitting in the percolator.

“What kind of update?”

Elliot gave her a look of obvious
incredulity while he readied the drinks. “What do you have in it?”

“Just milk.”

He poured milk from a small metal
dispenser, prepared his own and brought them to the table. The two wordlessly
sat down with Nadine uncertainly taking the opposite chair to him at a
transparent table similar to the one in her quarters.

“If we’re not going to talk about that then
can we find something else to talk about?”

“Sure,” Elliot replied, playing with his
cup.

“Fine,” she said losing patience, “I’ll go
back to my quarters.”

“If that’s what you want.”

She left the coffee and stood up, crossing
the room while he continued to stare at his cup. Nadine nearly reached the exit
before turning on her heel. She paced back to his engrossed thought and slapped
the table with both hands.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Elliot passed the mug back and forth between
each hand.

“I showed you my mind. Tonight you were
supposed to tell me about you and now you’re acting like this. What is your
problem? Is this cold feet?”

He said nothing and continued to examine
his ceramic, clay colored cup of coffee. Nadine stood up straight and, with a
fast left hand, slapped the mug from his hand and sent if flying into the wall.

“What?” she demanded.

“Have you gotten any updates?”

“Like what kind of updates?”

“About the Ferine.”

“What about the Ferine?”

“Are you going to extradite them?”

“Why would we extradite them?” she asked
and sat down at the table.

“Good question. Once the panel finds
against them,” Elliot began.

“That’s not been determined yet,” Nadine
interrupted.

“Don’t tell me you’re that naive.”

“As far as I know, the hearing is not
finished and no judgment has been made.”

“If I had not seen your mind, I wouldn’t
believe it,” Elliot said.