The Phoenix War (45 page)

“Why have their orbits decayed?” asked
Summers. Now wondering if these vessels were the source of the
distress call. That would explain everything except for the fact
that the distress call was sent exclusively to the Nighthawk.

“The vessels seem not to be producing any
thrust and they have insufficient momentum to compensate for
atmospheric drag,” said Shen.

“Begin standard approach,” said Summers, not
wanting to leave the ships stranded. Even though she was still
worried that this was some kind of elegant ploy, meant to lure them
into the jaws of a trap. Perhaps a more dangerous ship was hiding
just on the other side of the planet, or was stealthed.

“You got it,” said Sarah.

“Defense systems stand by,” said Summers as
the Nighthawk changed angle and accelerated.

“Shields and weapons are at the ready,”
reported Mister Donaldson from the defense post. “I can power them
at a moment’s notice.”

“How’s the stealth system?”

“Active and functioning normally,” said
Mister Donaldson.

“Very good, commence rescue operation,” said
Summers. “But don’t drop stealth until we absolutely have to.”

“Aye, aye.”

“Mister Iwate, I want you to keep a sharp
eye, if any other ships are out there—
I
want to know.”

“On it.”

“And Lieutenant Winters,” Summers looked at
Sarah. “See if you can’t pinpoint the origin of that distress
call.”

“Working on it,” said Sarah. “Its stamp
indicates the third planet and the computer agrees. No surprise, I
guess, since it’s the only planet in the system that can support
life.”

“Is the distress call still broadcasting?”
asked Summers.

“Yes, though very intermittently. I’ve been
logging a signal every five or ten minutes. At first it was every
few seconds.”

“The source could be running out of power,”
speculated Shen. “If it’s coming from one of those planetary
landers then a power-shortage could also explain why they’re not
using thrusters to climb to a better orbit.

“I don’t think it’s coming from those
vessels,” said Sarah. “It appears to be coming from the planet’s
surface.”

“Could someone down there have survived
impact?” asked Summers, thinking of the debris they’d scanned.

“Not likely,” said Shen. “Though I am
detecting a grouping of artificial structures on the surface. It
could be coming from there.”

“I thought you said the system was
uninhabited,” said Summers.

“Well, that was according to our database,”
Shen said with a shrug.

“Can we identify the colony?” asked
Summers.

“It’s not really a colony. More like a
forward outpost. There are several portable structures that have
been set up within close proximity of each other. The objects
appear to be contained within an area smaller than twenty hectares.
I am detecting no electromagnetic activity consistent with known
power generators. So either they’ve masked their grid or they’re
not using power. It could be abandoned.”

“Who are they?” asked Summers.

“The structures are of Imperial design.
Whoever set them up is either human or in business with humans,”
said Shen.

“Can we contact them?”

“Unknown. Based on these readings they don’t
have a transmitter switched on. Or… it’s possible that they aren’t
using any kind of power, like I said.”

“You also said they could have masked their
grid, do you mean they’re cloaking it somehow?” asked Summers.

“Yeah maybe,” said Shen. “It’s anyone’s
guess.”

Summers nodded. She’d seen too many strange
things in the galaxy to rule out the possibility they’d encountered
a technology previously unheard of. “They must be using power and
cloaking it,” said Summers. “How else could they be sending us a
distress call?”

“It’s not them,” said Sarah. “The signal is
coming from somewhere else. Almost fifty kilometers away from the
colony.”

“I confirm that,” said Shen. “My scans show a
faint trace of electromagnetic activity at thirty-nine point seven
three degrees north by one-hundred and four point nine-eight
degrees west, using standard mapping protocol.”

“My readings agree, the distress call is
coming from there,” said Sarah.

“It looks to be some fairly rugged terrain.
Mountainous and forested,” said Shen. “Apparently whoever is
broadcasting the distress call left the colony and ventured out
into the wild.”

“Why would they do that?” asked Summers,
perplexed. “What did they possibly hope to find in the wild that
wasn’t already available at the colony? Did they run out of food
and water? It’s not like there would be any help out there.”

“Who knows,” said Shen.

There was definitely something strange going
on, they all sensed it.

“We’re now entering the thermosphere,”
reported Sarah. “Three of the four orbiting vessels have lost too
much altitude for the Nighthawk to safely retrieve them, but we can
get to one of them.”

“Proceed,” said Summers.

“Aye, aye. Entering orbit and beginning
gradual descent. We will overtake the target vessel in three
minutes.” The planet was now dominantly visible out the window.
Like most habitable planets it was a blend of color, mostly white
and blue. It looked beautiful and perhaps deceptively serene.

Summers tapped her direct line to HQ. “Mister
Pellew.”

“Pellew here. What can I do for you,
Commander?”

“We’re about to dock with an orbital landing
craft. I want you to take one of your operational detachments and
some medical and engineering staff and board the vessel. It is in a
decayed orbit with no active systems so plan accordingly.”

“Understood. How much time do I have?”

“We’ll latch onto the craft in just under
three minutes. After that you’re clear to breach whenever you’re
ready.”

“Very good. Are we capturing the ship or just
taking prisoners?” asked Pellew.

“Hopefully neither. For now survey the ship
and see what we find. If you’re able to restore power to the
systems please do so. If you find anyone, render what assistance
you can.”

“But… you’re guessing the crew is dead, am I
right?”

Summers frowned. “All I know is, the
life-support systems seem not to be functioning.”

“Roger,” said Pellew. “And if we manage to
restore the craft’s systems, what then?”

“You will be given coordinates to a distress
call on the surface. Please investigate and inform.”

“Understood. Pellew out.”

Once the jetway was attached and pressurized,
they were able to force open the planetary lander’s main hatch and
board the tiny vessel. Pellew went first. He felt encumbered by the
full-body climate suit he wore—the same one that’d protected him on
Remus Nine—as he slipped through the jetway and floated down into
the black recess of the planetary lander.

He tapped his mask and his infrared goggles
switched on. The lime green image revealed that he was in what
appeared to be the main passenger compartment. It looked upside
down. There was a narrow corridor in between rows of seats, no
passengers or corpses were anywhere to be seen. At stern there was
a sealed compartment and at bow there was a large cabin door that
was partially open. Pellew floated over to the door, pushing off
the seats to propel himself the right direction. Others of his team
came aboard. Weapons at the ready, infrared goggles on, they
floated, using mostly their legs to push off of objects when
necessary.

“Search and secure the area,” Pellew ordered.
He let go of his weapon for a moment, allowing it to float next to
him, as he pushed on the door. Trying to slide it farther open so
he could slip through. He had to steady his feet against the nearby
bulkhead but, after some effort, he succeeded in moving the door a
few inches. Enough to get through, climate suit and all.

“That should do it,” said Pellew. “Emmett,
see if you can unseal that compartment at aft. Nassar, you’re with
me.”

“Yes sir.”

Pellew grabbed his rifle and pulled himself
through the opening. Nassar followed closely behind. On the other
side of the door was a very small control section of the planetary
lander, it was more of a cockpit than a bridge. Room for two pilots
and a half dozen computer terminals. It was so small Nassar nearly
bumped into him as he floated past, toward the window.

“Let’s see if we can squeeze some life out of
these systems,” said Pellew. He grabbed the pilot’s chair just
above him and used it to flip his body the right direction so he no
longer felt upside-down. “That’s better,” he said, he positioned
himself in the chair and strapped in.

From there he was able to adjust the controls
and attempt to bring the main systems online. Knowing that the odds
were against him—why else would the crew have abandoned the
vessel?

He activated the computer. To his surprise,
the systems came back to life with a hum. Including artificial
gravity, causing Nassar to drop like a stone to the deck. “Well
I’ll be damned,” said Pellew. “That wasn’t so hard.” He checked
over the systems, everything appeared to be working. Life support
was restored, even the thrusters were immediately responsive.

He switched off his helmet’s mic and
activated the landing craft’s communication system. “Pellew to
Nighthawk, do you copy?”

“Loud and clear,” came the reply. The
feminine voice on the other end belonged to the pretty woman who
piloted the ship.
What’s her name? Sarah, yes, that’s it
.
“Summers wants a status report,” Sarah added.

“The vessel is secure and we’ve found nobody
aboard,” said Pellew “On top of that, all systems appear completely
functional. I’m guessing these landers were abandoned recently, and
that their orbits were purposely set to decay within a matter of
hours. Whoever left them here wanted them to crash.”

“Is the craft safe to use?” asked Sarah. No
doubt relaying the question on behalf of Summers.

“Yeah, it looks like it,” said Pellew.
Glancing over the systems once more. He wasn’t an engineer or a
pilot, but he had a basic understanding of starship controls—it was
a required part of training—and all the lights and switches showed
green.

“We are sending coordinates to you.
Investigate the source of the distress call and report. The
Nighthawk will remain in parking orbit.”

“Roger,” said Pellew. He closed the channel
and then reactivated his helmet’s mic. “Okay people we’re taking
this bird down to the planet. Seal the hatch and prepare for
descent. Campbell, you’re a pilot—get your ass in here. The rest of
you strap in.”

“On my way,” said Campbell.

“Emmett,” said Pellew, unstrapping himself
from the pilot’s chair and moving to the co-pilot’s position. “Have
any luck with that sealed compartment?”

“Yes sir,” came the reply. “It’s a
maintenance hatch. It gives access to the engine-room below.”

“Did you search it?”

“Yes sir. Nothing found. No one is here.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Pellew.

Campbell arrived and took the pilot’s seat.
Nassar had already returned to the passenger compartment to strap
in and prepare for descent as ordered.

“What’ve we got?” asked Campbell, he took his
helmet off and wiped the sweat from his face. Then he took in the
spread of controls before him. “Oh a T-X Mark Three, not bad, not
bad. This ship can’t be more than two years old.”

“I have coordinates,” said Pellew, the lander
had received them from the Nighthawk. Using the co-pilot’s controls
he fed them to the helm.

“Got them,” said Campbell. He pressed the
transmitter. “Planetary Lander to IWS Nighthawk,” he said, leaning
unnecessarily over the mounted mic. “We’re locked into those
coordinates and preparing for descent. Please release docking
clamps and confirm.”

“Roger that, Lander,” said Sarah. “Cutting
you loose now. Confirmed, you are now under your own power.”

“Thank you, Nighthawk.”

Pellew glanced at his display, it showed that
the hatches were all secure but, in the interest of not being
burned to death on reentry, he decided to make doubly sure.
“Emmett, did you visually confirm that the hatch was sealed?”

“Yes sir, its secure,” said Emmett. He was
one of the original special forces soldiers that had been with the
Nighthawk all along, and Pellew trusted him significantly more than
most of the rest of the soldiers. Especially since half of them
were mercenaries. He understood the mercenary mentality but he
didn’t trust them to know what they were doing. Or to maintain
discipline in the face of hell itself.
Perhaps we’re about to
find out if I’m wrong
, he thought.

“Sir, requesting permission to commence
planetary descent,” said Campbell.

Pellew checked the systems one last time.
Everything looked good. “Permission granted.”

“Aye, aye.” With that Campbell adjusted their
velocity and angle and the window ahead filled with the planet
moving toward them. At first it didn’t feel like they were getting
any closer and then Pellew felt weightless again. The restraints
held him tight and he watched the window fill with orange, bathing
them in fire, as they rushed toward the planet’s surface.

It was a discomforting experience but one
Pellew was used to. He was just glad he didn’t have to be the one
at the controls. He waited silently as Campbell and the vessel’s
computer guided their accelerated reentry. Before long, the orange
was gone, replaced by white clouds and blue sky.

“Okay I’m approaching the target position,”
said Campbell. “The coordinates seem to be a mountain range, see
it? Just over there,” he pointed at the window. Pellew squinted and
saw what he was talking about. From here it looked like a flat,
perhaps slightly wrinkled landscape. But as they neared, he got a
better sense of what it was.