The Phoenix Darkness (3 page)

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Authors: Richard L. Sanders

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

BOOK: The Phoenix Darkness
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It was a slow process, but one which would
have been much slower had she kept her entire force together rather
than splitting it up across a dozen star systems where similar
repair operations were running around the clock. Still, to Kalila,
who felt agitated by the delay, the whole enterprise felt like
something both too little and too late, especially considering
Calvin’s warning, which looped in her head over and over as best
she remembered it, in the words of Captain Adiger who’d delivered
the message: “The Alliance has fallen, it can no longer deter
Rotham aggression across the DMZ.”

We are vulnerable
, she thought.
Desperately vulnerable. Now more than ever. With half the
Imperial fleet destroyed and the Apollo Yards gone…yet we continue
to fight amongst ourselves. How can we possibly hope to
survive?

She turned her attention briefly back to the
broadcast display in her office. It showed, as was displayed on all
frequencies, the farcical trial of Fleet Admiral Tiberon. The man
who had, apparently, been the one to order the enemy vanguard to
withdraw and spare the
Black Swan
. Spare her life. And yet
rumors swirled from the
Nighthawk
that this man was not even
the real Fleet Admiral Tiberon. That he was a replacement, a
replicant, a fraud. Even so, why would he command such a
devastatingly effective defense strategy, forcing Kalila’s fleet to
bleed dearly for every gain, only to forgo seizing the ultimate
prize, her, and choose not to win the war and all the glory? It was
like the man, or replicant, or whatever it was, wanted the battle
to be as bloody as possible, for Caerwyn’s forces to ultimately
drive Kalila from the system. But at the same time, hadn’t wanted
Kalila to be lost.
Because if I am lost
, she thought,
that would mean the end of the war
…But why would that
matter? She knew the man’s superficial reasons for abetting her
escape were false, despite his confession to the contrary; he most
certainly had
not
been in cahoots with her on any level.
Which left only mystery and the vague possibility he’d spared her
to continue the war. If he was a replicant, then did that mean he
worked for the Rotham? Hoping to spark further human civil warfare
to weaken the Empire’s defenses? Or, though she almost dared not to
think it, there was one other option. He might be working
for…
them
. She felt a wave of shame shimmy up her spine as
she considered the prospect, and then rubbed her hands together,
which suddenly felt very hot. They were dry, but she could have
sworn she felt blood upon them, still red and wet.

No!
she sternly reminded herself. That
hadn’t been her fault. Her father’s death, the deaths of her
siblings, she’d never wanted any of that. That had been someone
else’s cruel design. Some monster with a thousand faces and no
name. All Kalila had done was fail to protect the ones she loved.
And now her only family left was the Empire. And she’d sooner die
than fail her subjects, her beloved children.

She turned off the display once the image cut
away from Fleet Admiral Virgil Tiberon being strapped to the
nitrogen machine in order to show a close-up of the least palatable
thing in the known universe: the fat scheming face of Caerwyn
Martel. The man who all alone, through his own avarice and lust for
power, will likely be the one to singlehandedly bring down this
Empire, stone for stone. “Justice to all traitors,” the fat deviant
managed to spout before the audio and video were cut.

“Justice
indeed
,” murmured Kalila. She
knew justice was a difficult concept, and one which seemed to grow
ever more difficult each day, but if justice did exist somewhere,
the last person to know about it would be Caerwyn Martel.

She got up from her chair and headed for the
Bridge; there was no longer any time to dawdle. “Mister Adiger,”
she said, immediately upon entering.

“My Queen,” he and the other saluted.

“I want a status report of our forces
immediately.”

“Most of the warships in this system are
still in queues for essential repairs. Life-support, atmosphere,
and gravity systems have been restored on all ships, as have
shields for the most part, since individual Engineering crews have
been able to do those efforts themselves. Some fifty percent of
armor has been replaced, though only twenty-something percent of
munitions have been restored to inventory, including on this ship,
Your Majesty. All critically and seriously injured personnel have
been off-transferred and replaced. However, many ships are having
difficulty restoring ops controls, navigation, and full
alteredspace capability. Nevertheless, they are getting to the
bottom of it as fast as they can.”

“And this ship?”

“We are currently being refit for new armor
on our starboard side,” said Captain Adiger. “In addition, new
supplies and ammunition are still making their way aboard and into
storage.”

“And systems?”

“All systems restored, Your Majesty,” said
Adiger.

“Glad to hear it,” said Kalila. At least now,
if Caerwyn or some other menace attacked them, they'd be able to
mount some sort of defense, although it ate at her that these
repairs, no matter how expedient, would not be fast enough, or
adequate, to openly oppose a hostile Republican fleet. Especially
without support from Caerwyn’s fleet, which, for all Kalila could
expect, would try to engage her in another pitched battle before
the Rotham arrived, something Kalila absolutely must not let happen
if at all possible.

“And the status of our other ships in the
other systems?” she asked.

“Varied. Some squadrons report complete
battle-readiness; most do not, however. The average seems to be on
par with the situation here, with the worst performing system being
that of Euripides, where thirty-eight destroyers in mostly bad
condition are cycling for use of two orbital platforms.”

“Divide that force and spread them around the
other systems,” said Kalila.

“Having them move would leave them vulnerable
to ambush in transit,” Captain Adiger pointed out.

“True, but so long as they can’t get the
repairs they need, there’s an entire squadron of them vulnerable to
attack. I’d rather not keep all those eggs in that one basket.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I’ll send the order at
once.”

“Have someone else do it, Captain,” said
Kalila. “I need you with me.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he gave the
appropriate orders and then followed her off the Bridge and into
her office where she took her seat and he stood, resolute and
attentive, ever the proper soldier. Despite the greying tufts of
hair which showed under his uniform cap, he preferred dress
uniform, and despite the unmistakable signs of aging, a wrinkling
in the skin, a thinner, gaunter appearance, he remained a fixture
of strength in her eyes, and in the way he carried himself, there
remained something fierce.

“Tell me, and I wish you to be frank with me,
sir,” said Kalila. “What is the latest status report of our loyal
worlds? Do any starve or need supplies, are any in danger of
attack, have any shifted so far that they risk defection?”

“Your Highness, that would require a far more
detailed report than I am prepared to give.”

Kalila knew this, but she also knew Captain
Adiger was a shrewd man who kept tabs on the big picture, always
keen to root out any potential concern, even if he did have a bad
habit of keeping those concerns to himself, in a benign but
unhelpful way of trying to safeguard the queen from additional
burdens. However, Kalila was no longer a child. And when she
accepted the mantle of monarch over the Empire and claimed her
father’s throne and declared herself queen regnant in her own
right, she accepted to carry all those burdens, whatever they may
be.

“Honestly, Your Majesty, the majority of our
systems are holding their own independently. Unlike Capital World,
and probably Renora at this point, none of our systems are resource
upside down, even in the absence of regular trade due to the war.
There are a few bold traders, and even some smugglers, who get
desperately needed commodities from place to place, but each of our
systems, at current estimates, is able to withstand siege
unassisted for years if not decades, provided their ecosystems and
industrial facilities are not bombed.”

Which, they both knew, would almost certainly
be the case.

“All of our core worlds have been scrambling
to increase their defensive capabilities, as per your previous
orders, and the funds we’ve sent them to assist in this task have
greatly accelerated the process.” That had been an unpopular choice
among many of her senior knights and advisors, who wished the funds
to go into rapidly building more battleships and shipyards. Perhaps
that would have been the wiser course of action, considering the
loss of the Apollo Yards, but at the time, Kalila had expected to
take the Yards, not destroy them utterly.

“That’s all well and fine, Captain,” said
Kalila, “but do stop sugarcoating it by giving me only the good
news. Tell me of the bad; that's what requires my attention
most.”

“A handful of our core worlds are having
troubles of a sort,” admitted Captain Adiger.

Kalila looked at him as if to say, “Go
on.”

“Cygnus III is the one exception to the
adequate stores of food I mentioned earlier. They still have some
stores, but the booming population there has not allowed the local
agricultural industry to catch up. —And why should it have; up
until recently they had a lucrative trade deal with Olympia for
extra food. Now that the two planets are on different sides of the
conflict, well, Cygnus III is rushing to plant for adequate crop
yields, and estimations look good, but there is going to be a rough
time between now and harvest.”

“I see,” said Kalila. “Arrange for a group of
transports to travel from Leo-Venetici, under swift escort, to
deliver additional food supplies to Cygnus III.”

“That brings me to Leo-Venetici. They are
having a similar problem, but with water. This time not due to
overpopulation, but rather contamination of springs and wells.
Sabotage is suspected, and although Intel Wing had offered to look
into it—”

“Intel Wing likely as not
caused
the
poisoned water supply. Don’t let them go anywhere near the planet.
In the meantime, make certain they are scrubbing and chemically
treating their water sources to re-purify them.”

“They are, Your Highness, and there is more
than enough water there for the population, once they manage to
restore its purity. But, until then…”

“Does Cygnus III have any excess water, or
are they as behind on water as they are food?”

“They have some excess water, Your Highness,
but most of it is reserved for the rushed cultivation of
crops.”

“Order them to set aside a sufficient amount
to be given over to the convoy we’re sending from Leo-Venetici in
exchange for the food supplies. Have the convoy make repeat trips
if necessary.”

“Such an effort is dangerous and all convoys
will be at the mercy of any Assembly patrols, or even pirates,”
said Adiger.

“Pirates?” Kalila furrowed her brow.

“There have been strange reports, Your
Highness. But I will see to it that your orders are carried out and
that, should multiple trips be necessary, the convoys take
different charted paths each time.”

“Very good,” said Kalila. “Now, what of
Ophiuchus?” Ophiucus was something of a crown jewel on the queen’s
list of loyal systems. The Ophiucus system, while boasting nothing
nearly so impressive as the Engineering finesse of the former
Apollo yards, did lay claim to the largest natural supply of ores
and minerals of all known types compared to any other system in the
Empire. Such resources, which were desperately demanded for
building and repairing starships and interstellar structures, were
treasures beyond reckoning, and promised to become increasingly
valuable as the battles continued.

“I’m happy to report the system is stable,
loyal, well-defended, and all mining operations are operating at
full capacity,” said Adiger.

That, at least, was some good news. “What
about neutral-leaning or potentially disloyal systems; did our
alleged defeat at Apollo shoo away any of our more important
supporters?”

“Difficult to say at this point,” said
Adiger. “Carina, Pegasus Minor, Pisces II, and Capricornus are each
systems worth keeping a sharp eye on. But, for now, none has taken
any action, or made any statement that they are disloyal or
uncooperative. They've just been…slow and cautious in their
contributions to the war effort.”

“Delicately put, Captain. How slow, exactly?”
Kalila needed to know what she could trust and what she could not.
And, unlike Captain Adiger, she could not force herself to speak
only of the optimistic side of the cloud when there was a chance
that, should she look underneath, it was grey and storming.

“I’ll have reports made and sent to you
directly, Your Highness.”

“Very good.” Adiger saluted, clearly
expecting to be dismissed, but there was another thing which, after
a moment, he picked up on. “Something else, Your Majesty?”

“Have you given any thought to Mr. Cross’s
warning he sent us?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“And?” Kalila sat up straighter, staring
Adiger down with her regal gaze. “If he’s right and there is a
fleet of Rotham warships able to slip through the DMZ and attack
the Empire, what are we to do about that?”

“My hope is that his intelligence is
incorrect,” said Adiger, “or the attack is not so imminent
that…”

“We both know hope alone is no kind of
defense at all,” said Kalila. “What do we do when hundreds of
Rotham warships storm The Corridor? Those systems cannot defend
themselves.”

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